My Village Husband

My name is Natty Dom Nyaboke

Back in my village, there were only three kinds of men worth calling husbands.

A teacher, a doctor, or a police officer.

If your man didn't carry chalk, a stethoscope, or handcuffs, you were basically single in our eyes.

Now, I didn’t go far with school. Dropped out in Class Six. But even with that, I had my standards. I wasn’t going to tie myself to any random boda rider with shiny teeth and big dreams. No.

I wanted a man with a title. Respect. Uniform, even better.

Word spread quickly.

“Natty only wants men with jobs that have letterheads.”

That was fine with me. Let them talk. What people didn’t like saying out loud, though, was that I also had a small problem, with my hands. I didn’t hesitate to return a slap with interest if a man tried disrespect me.

So, most of the men kept a safe distance away from me like a cursed...