Dating Mr Director

The campus Mr Director!
The lady's man!
He got his votes by enticing the campus, the girls to be precise. I remember him setting up ice-cream containers, attracting huge numbers, the girls ordering all sorts of flavors. Putting up shisha base,creating humongous circles of dudes, and the majority being the campus girls, who overtake the number of men in this smoking, as the research proves.

As they pass the hookah, they promise to give their votes in return. His pocket filled and not stingy this time, throws mullah all over, calling guys for drinks,in other words, 'kuchafua meza! ' Creating squads especially the gym guys, who later on become his bouncers, the body guards, yet the director is a skinny, boney nigga , surrounded by heavily built guys  assuring him maximum security. He wins the elections, with the tittle Mr. Director! 

Word in the street is that I am Mrs Director. Well, oh well, things change now. People say am gold digging, but am thinking, so what if my man gat money? It doesn't mean am a gold digger!
The topic becomes Dating Mr Director. 

He has formed a clique of the hiphop type, I call them 'Mabarbie'.. He nowadays only knows the American slang. Apparently Meg and I are in the clique. How we got here is so simple. Mr Director calls me to to his house and adds I shouldn't come alone. This phrase, so familiar, he wants to hook his friend up.You know how Alikiba sings, "mwambie aje, aje na marafiki zake." So this is Meg and I. Am wondering how he takes other ladies for lunch, in the name of, you know they voted me in. 

Mama knows I still reside in the hostels of the campus but truth be told, am married, "a come we stay with Mr Director."Am his personal assistant, doing his class assignments, as he's busy running errands, Lord knows what they are. I do the laundry, I iron his shirts the days he has the director meetings, I clean the house and arrange after  his squad leaves. Am tired. I feel like screaming out, "I ain't your mama!! "

Mrs director has no say in this house. I am expected to stop putting on sweatpants and migrate to the cosmopolitan fashion, dress, heels, bootyshorts, fancy clads . There's no cooking in the Mr Director's house, we fancy, you know, we eat out. The expensive hotel in the campus, he awaits the prime hours when people are packed in this hotel. Meg really benefits from this food sector, you know, as Mr Director let's her tag along with us . look how he forces Meg to use the forks and knives yet she is super hungry, all because he wants to be associated with class. It's always like a governor around his area, how people greet him, his hands ever waving, his endless stops in the streets of the  campus make me sick. 

He expects maximum cooperation from me in the club. Look how we storm in the club like the tittle written on our foreheads "aslam le` presidenta!" Meg and I are from the ghetto, clubbing means dancing, but the cold eyes send us back seated, sipping expensive drinks and am now thinking, how about he gives us the money instead, we could buy cheap liquor and pocket the rest, you know. Am sure Meg thinks the same. 

Mr Director wants to show off his girlfriend to his squad, as he forces me to play the pool game. Meg giggles as I lazily take the stick or whatever they call it. The balls are many, am tipsy, I can't believe what colors am seeing, oh Lord I give up. This I say, he ain't about that life, but he wants to fake it till he makes it. I think I want the old Mr Director, the middle life guy. So I'm just gonna sit here and wait for him to be depleted, become broke and pesa iishe !!!!
Dating Mr Director is horrible!!!!!!