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Sqoop – Get Uganda entertainment news, celebrity gossip, videos and photosSqoop – Get Uganda entertainment news, celebrity gossip, videos and photos


Dating mares:  The sooner we know maids are women too, the better




We all express shock and disgust each time we hear about a man having a physical relationship with a house help or maid.

I was in the same boat too until I realised it is but absolutely normal to have such things happen. When Janet told her neighbour about her fiancé hiring a maid yet she only visited him once or twice a month, she was shocked she had allowed such a thing to happen. “How could you? Were you in your senses? He can only hire a maid when the two of you start living together.”

I could strongly relate. I am also of the view that Janet should in the meantime hire someone to come over to do her fiancé’s laundry each weekend, with her supervision. I sound insecure—but here is why. My neighbour friend Olivia was never bothered about having a maid or two around. According to her, her husband was too staunch a “savedee” and his eyes never strayed to the extent that when she brought a house help from her village—Micheal was very disturbed. He did not like the 19-year-old girl at first glance.

“So, of all women in your village, this is what you managed to fish out?” he asked, with despicable hatred. To top it all, he sought all excuses to keep away from the dining table, while the family had dinner.

One day he opened up: “Olivia, I cannot eat food prepared by that filthy girl. If you cannot cook, then I will starve.”

Olivia was troubled but deep inside she praised her gods for bringing about such hatred. Because of this, she was able to leave the two home without worrying. She would even go to the village and spend a week, knowing “Mr Pride” would not think of eating the girl’s “food”, in any form.

Three months down the road and she is at my door begging me to let her in in the wee hours of the night. “Olivia, why are you crying? Is your son sick?”

“No,” she replied. I woke up in the dark to pick Ian’s milk from the fridge and saw the maid’s door open—and—and…” I ceased trying to calm her down. I let her sob as long as she was able to give me the news.

Amidst sobs, Olivia said she walked to the maid’s door and on trying to close it, looked back, only for her phone torchlight to flash in Michael’s face, on top of the then sweating maid, with his pants on the ground. She could not believe her eyes. So she used Ian’s milk to wash her face just to be sure she was seeing right.

Micheal, shame-struck, barked at her: “What are you doing here? Is this what you do all night? Hover around all rooms, snooping on people?” She did not expect this kind of reaction. So she ran to the door, bare-feet and headed straight to my house.

I can be mean sometimes. Instead of consoling her and rebuking Micheal like she anticipated, I told her it was quite normal. I told her about my cousin who spent days in the hospital nursing her Caesarian section wounds after having a first baby boy for her husband. He only came to the hospital once and was busy for the rest of the days and nights—and she understood.

So, on that fateful day, she sent me to her home to pick a few necessities at night. On reaching her home, the door was wide open so I just walked into the sitting room and called out her maid’s name. The maid in the leather sofa, was busy entertaining my cousin’s husband. I watched and listened for a while and then told her: “Felista, get me two flasks and the baby’s net, pampers and a percolator”.

Astonished, she pushed him off and he was quick to explain that he had not yet completed the sexual act so I didn’t have to run telling my cousin and everyone who cared to know. I looked him in the face, swallowed hard and waited for the items. I told her to pack her belongings and gave her transport to head back to her village the following morning. To this day, my cousin blames me for sending her very hard working maid away. Yeah, she worked really hard at everything.

By the time I was done telling my cousin’s story, Olivia was laughing and tears flowed down her cheeks while she, in her mind, compared the two scenarios. “I think men do not mind where they enter as long as it is hollow,” she screamed.

“Sshh! Woman, it is a high time women started to do the right things in their homes because maids are women too—and once they can do something better than you then you might as well just keep the ‘madam’ title and share him,” I assured her.


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