Photo/FILE Kenyan women are renting out their wombs to carry other people’s pregnancies, with some being paid as much as Sh1 million. The trend, that has in the past been seen as a solution in developed countries for infertile women seeking to have their own children, is increasingly gaining acceptance in Kenya.

Sometime in 2010, a young woman received an invitation to meet a couple she had earlier encountered at a Christian convention in Nairobi.

The well-to-do couple lived in Mombasa but had arranged the meeting at one of Nairobi’s posh hotels, betraying nothing of the extraordinary proposal that awaited the 35-year-old Vivian (not her real name).

Would she agree to carry a pregnancy on their behalf since the wife did not have a uterus of her own?

“It took me eight months to think about it,” recalls Vivian, who cannot disclose her identity or that of the couple under the terms of a contract she eventually signed.

“I asked God to help me make the right decision. It was the toughest in my life.”

Made up her mind

When she finally made up her mind to do it at a fee of at least Sh650,000, the mother of three effectively joined a growing list of young Kenyan women who are renting out their wombs to carry other people’s pregnancies, with some being paid as much as Sh1 million.

The trend, that has in the past been seen as a solution in developed countries for infertile women seeking to have their own children, is increasingly gaining acceptance in Kenya.

Women are usually unable to have a baby because they might have medical complications that make pregnancy impossible.

Those who carry the pregnancy, whether for a fee or for free, are known as surrogate hosts and the owner of the baby as the commissioning couple or genetic parents.

In the past three years, 20 couples have commissioned other women to carry their pregnancy for them at Nairobi IVF Centre, one of the clinics offering this service.

Statistics from the clinic show that close to 30 babies have been born by surrogate hosts during that period.

Last year alone, seven couples sought the services of surrogate hosts, signalling a growing acceptance of the practice.

In a country where surrogacy is treated with a lot of secrecy and reservations, this is quite a high number.

It is also instructive that these statistics are from just one clinic, which also happens to be among the most successful in East and Central Africa, having delivered 700 test tube babies by the end of last year.

The clinic enjoys a success rate of 48 per cent, far above the 2011 global average of 36 per cent, according to the European Society of Human Reproductive and Embryology.

“It is amazing and encouraging to see couples who had been condemned to childlessness agreeing to have someone else carry and give birth to their child, something that was unheard of in the past,” says the director of Nairobi IVF Centre, Dr Joshua Noreh.

And it was not an easy decision for surrogate host Vivian either. Her family and partner completely rejected the idea at first. However, after months of discussion, her partner eventually agreed.

She and the couple then made arrangements to rent a house for her and how her daily needs would be met for the nine months she would be pregnant.

An agreement was also drawn up stipulating the fee and that she would hand over the baby to the couple in the delivery room.

The fee would be paid in four instalments — when she started the procedure, after the first and second trimesters, and the final payment being made after delivery and handover of the baby.

With all the details settled, the couple and Vivian went to the doctor. “We just told the doctor we were friends and did not disclose further details,” says Vivian.

The in vitro fertilisation (IVF) procedure was done and the embryo transferred into Vivian’s womb.

When she was four months pregnant and the signs were becoming visible, she left home, telling family and friends that she had found a job in Sudan.

For seven months, her family assumed she was in the neighbouring country.

“This was the most difficult time of my life especially being away from my children. But I had to do it because I really needed the money,” she says.

Vivian recalls how the couple monitored her on a daily basis. “They were so concerned that they would call me twice a day to find out how I was doing,” she says with a broad smile.

One week to delivery, she was admitted to hospital. “Immediately I delivered, the baby was given to its parents. I did not even see her (the baby).”

They in turn paid her the final instalment. Two months later, she went back to her family, having “spent 11 months in Sudan”.

Up to date her family has no idea what happened. She says this will remain a secret because society is yet to accept surrogacy.

“They see it as a very strange thing,” she says. Says Dr Noreh: “Some couples will be open about it, while others are very secretive. For us, our job is to ensure the couple achieves its goal of getting a baby using accepted medical intervention.”

Every month, Dr Noreh’s clinic, which pioneered IVF in the country, gets at least five inquiries about surrogacy, with some women inquiring how they can be hosts at a fee.

Surrogacy is an arrangement in which a woman carries and delivers a child for another couple or person — genetic parent(s).

The procedure is undertaken to help women who cannot have their own children, either due to lack of a uterus, or medical complications. Cancer of the uterus or other illnesses may result in its removal.

The procedure involves the retrieval of eggs from the woman who is unable to carry the baby and fertilising them in a laboratory using the husband’s or partner’s sperm.

The resulting embryo is then transferred into the surrogate host’s womb to conceive and carry the pregnancy to term.

Once the child is delivered, the surrogate host hands it over to the commissioning couple guided by terms of a contract signed between the two parties.

The increasing interest in surrogacy in Kenya has been triggered by the number of women with a dysfunctional uterus, no uterus at all, or have serious medical complications.

At the Nairobi IVF, close to 30 women who consulted the clinic in the last three years did not have a uterus or had a dysfunctional one.

“While these women qualify to use surrogate hosts to have their own babies, many cannot afford the procedure,” says Dr Olegs Tucs, a clinical embryologist.

According to Dr Noreh, the least amount a surrogate host has been paid in the cases he has dealt with is Sh600,000, but in some cases the figure can be as high as Sh1 million.

“We play no role in such negotiations. Ours is to offer treatment once the parties agree on the fee. But we first advise our patients to get relatives or friends who may agree to do it for free,” says Dr Noreh.

He adds that they have handled surrogate cases where the host, who is either a sister or friend to the commissioning parents, has agreed to carry the pregnancy cost-free.

Besides the fee, the commissioning couple also meets the rent and subsistence costs of the surrogate host.

Judith Ogeto, who was a surrogate host two years ago, says the commissioning parents used to give her Sh40,000 every month for rent and subsistence.

They also paid her Sh650,000 for carrying the pregnancy to full term. The commissioning couple also pays Sh300,000 IVF fees and meets the hospital costs where the surrogate host will deliver the baby.

In total, commissioning parents require a minimum of Sh1.5 million to manage a surrogacy arrangement.

In addition to finances, there are other obstacles the commissioning couples have to overcome. For increased chances of success, the surrogate host has to have had children before.

At Nairobi IVF Centre, married women and single mothers are the main surrogate hosts.

Problems, however, sometimes arise where the woman is married. Her husband has to be involved from the onset.

“He is informed that the wife is going to carry a baby that is not theirs and the strict conditions he has to abide by before and during that pregnancy,” says Dr Noreh.

Some of the conditions include giving up the baby immediately it is born, avoiding sex for the first two months from the time the surrogate host gets the embryo, and not engaging in anything that may endanger the life and health of the baby.

The surrogate host or her husband is not allowed to make any future claims on the baby, thus the requirement to hand over the baby immediately to avoid bonding.

To ensure the surrogate host and the husband abide by these conditions, a contract is prepared and signed by the surrogate host and husband and the commissioning parents.

While the cost of the surrogacy arrangement is high, the number of couples who need the service, but cannot afford it, is rising.

At the Nairobi IVF Centre, nine women who were seen in the past one year did not have a uterus. One of them was born without it.

The latter case happens due to a chromosomal abnormality where a woman inherits only one of the X chromosomes instead of two.

“The other missing X is in most cases manifested in the lack of a uterus or other abnormalities,” says Dr Tucs.

For other women, a dysfunctional uterus caused by fibroids which are difficult to treat or other diseases, makes it difficult for them to carry a pregnancy.

But there are also cases where women with a normal uterus may have to rely on surrogacy to have children.

A woman with a heart disease or other medical condition which might be complicated by the pregnancy leading to death also qualifies for surrogacy.

But Dr Noreh warns that surrogacy is not a procedure of convenience especially for those women who might opt for it because they fear carrying a pregnancy.

Although there have been questions that the surrogate host may influence the behaviour and character of the child, Dr Noreh says this is not true.

“There is nothing transferable to the foetus from the surrogate host. Only nutrition and oxygen is what the host conveys to the baby. The rest is the genetic material of the commission parents,” he says.

AWC Feature

Source: http://www.nation.co.ke/News/A+surrogate+mother+speaks+I+rented+out+my+womb+for+Sh650000+/-/1056/1319640/-/13vph5oz/-/index.html

Photo/JARED NYATAYA/NATION When Evelyn Nyambura Simaloi was infected with HIV by her lover, the world around her collapsed, until she realised hope and audacity were part and parcel of the struggle against the virus.

Because in our country, and on our continent, HIV has pervaded the most intimate moments in peoples’ relationships, it has burrowed itself deep into the very soul of our most unmentionable of taboos — sex.

It has held us hostage through our own silence and our burning shame. And most strangely, in a country and a continent divided by many things, it has united us, in the deaths of our parents, our brothers and sisters, our friends.

Even our enemies. But amid the pain that HIV/Aids has caused, are threads of hope — that one day there will be a generation that doesn’t know how to describe HIV, because they don’t have to experience it.

This is a story of that hope and the audacity of those, infected and affected, who have remained unbowed by the enormity of the task of finding a cure for HIV/Aids.

In the middle of the ever growing grey rows of apartment blocks in Mwiki, east of the city centre of Nairobi, Evelyn Nyambura Simaloi, and her seven-year-old son Emmanuel are preparing to go on a journey, one that they hope will change both their lives.

Simaloi, especially, has hoped that this day will come for almost all of her adult life.

“It was about two years after I had finished high school; my step-mum had kicked me out for stealing a plate of chips.

“So I met a guy who became my boyfriend and took me in. One day, I was looking for a job and they required that I take a HIV test.

“Around the same time, my boyfriend fell very sick and was admitted at Kenyatta National Hospital Ward 7D. I’ll never forget that ward. Then he later told me that he knew he was HIV-positive. I was really shocked,” she recalls.

The news of her status was a blow she just wasn’t prepared to take. To this day, she still has a photo of the man who infected her with the virus.

At just 21 years of age, Simaloi felt the cruel irony of contracting a disease she thought would kill her just as she was about to begin life as an adult.

This, to her, was yet another dark twist in the tough life she had already endured. When Simaloi was an infant, her father, then, an airforce pilot, and her mother, separated.

Esther Wanjiku, Simaloi’s paternal auntie says: “Me and Simaloi had a special bond. I felt very sad, especially for her, although I didn’t fully understand why they were separating.”

Simaloi found herself in the homes of step-parents whom, she says, saw her as a burden — as a baggage from past relationships.

After they discovered her status, her family was the last place she was going to look for support. Desperate, bitter, and in denial, Simaloi told herself that she wouldn’t die alone.

“I used to have multiple sexual partners,” she told the radio station QFM. It became more than promiscuity for Simaloi.

She turned to commercial sex work to support herself, and try to soothe the bitterness that she felt for having contracted HIV.

For three years, Simaloi partied, drank, and had sex with many men. “I used to look for womanisers — men who like women. I was young and attractive.

“When men would see me on the dance floor, they would come running. I would always propose a condom, but some would refuse and I would say ‘fine, have it.’” But all that changed one night in 2002.

“I was coming from a chang’aa den at like 3 am. A man who had wanted me followed me, and raped me. I conceived,” she says.

Simaloi decided to turn her life around after discovering that her rape ordeal had left her pregnant. She became a Christian, stopped drinking, and reconnected with some members of her family.

Nine months later, Emmanuel was born; spinning her rape ordeal into what she says is the biggest blessing she has ever received.

But even Emmanuel, or Manu as she likes to call him, wouldn’t escape her past. “My son is a blessing. He has the virus, and that is one thing I regret. I gave him the disease through breast-feeding.

“He gets really sick two or three times a year and I panic, but whenever we celebrate his birthday, I thank God because I never thought we would go this far,” says Simaloi.

Manu had a positive impact on her as she eventually came to terms with her status. More than that, in her work as a freelance journalist and a peer educator, she found her purpose.

She would tell people that HIV is a virus like any other and encourage HIV-positive people to get on anti-retroviral treatment as soon as possible.

But in telling people this, Simaloi was secretly fighting her own battle with the disease — that of getting onto ARVS herself.

“For me personally, I don’t want to get onto ARVS. Yes they prolong life but I don’t want them,” she says. In truth, Simaloi didn’t know that HIV was eating away at her.

Says Dr Nicholas Muraguri of Nascop: “The period between the time one gets infected and the time the disease manifests itself can be between 8 and 15 to 20 years.

“There are three stages of HIV; in the first phase, after two months of infection you develop flu, or you have flu like symptoms.

“The next phase is asymptomatic HIV where you don’t have any symptoms. Then there is stage three where opportunistic diseases begin to develop and stage four when you develop full blown Aids.”

A month before we first met her, Simaloi was admitted in hospital for one month with a severe case of cryptococal meningitis.

Her son Emmanuel took pictures of her while she was ill. She was advised to start anti-retroviral treatment immediately, before she slipped into stage four of HIV — full blown Aids. But Simaloi resisted.

“I eat well, I’m OK even after getting ill,” she says. Simaloi admits that she didn’t want to get onto anti-retroviral treatment, because, apart from the side effects she had seen, it is a life-long treatment, and not an absolute guarantee of recovery from illness, especially for people like her who have already progressed into stage three of HIV.

ARVS are recommended once HIV-positive people’s CD4 count, that is, the number of white blood cells in the body, goes below 500.

When Simaloi was discharged from hospital after recovering from meningitis, her CD4 count was just 107.

Her attempts to boost the count with vitamin pills were working in fits and starts, but she nursed the hope of finding one set of medication that would leave her healthy for life, without committing to taking it every day.

Then one day, she heard about medication that promised that. And more. The medicine was made by a man in Molo, in the southern Rift Valley region of Kenya.

And it wasn’t just medication for HIV/Aids management, its maker said that it had the potential to cure her of HIV.

So on November 11, 2010, Simaloi, still weak and shaken from her last battle against HIV, set out with her son.

Ironically unshaken by the looming consequences of her decision — she walked with the support of a crutch, the lingering effect of the meningitis, which at times causes partial paralysis — but she was also leaning on her faith.

Faith in a man she had never met, medicine she knew little about, and faith in time, which she knew she may have little of.

For most of the drive to Molo, Simaloi sat in silence, reading a brochure that told her about the herbal medicine she was on her way to take.

It was a big decision; and having lived with HIV for 11 years, she knew that there were many herbalists who had claimed to have the answer to HIV — many of which she has tried before. This time around though, she was confident.

“I don’t know why, but this one is different,” she says. In pursuit of her story, we all arrive in Molo town, a small outpost of the large breadbasket that is the Rift Valley.

A beautiful landscape from which, like in many other places in Kenya, the cries of people who have lost loved ones to HIV, have echoed.

But there too have been whispers of a man trying to turn this tide of tears back. A son of the soil with a remedy that people say has worked wonders for the health of many who were staring death in the face.

Sixty-year-old-David Mwangi is that man. And as he comes out to meet Simaloi and Manu, he looks like a man who, if all the rumours about him were to go by, cloaked this mystique well under his unassuming appearance.

But once inside, his faith, and his convictions are very clear. After Simaloi tells David how she and Manu contracted HIV, David begins what he calls a counselling session, heavy laden with biblical references.

“I believe anybody has the capacity for everything. Nebuchadnezzar was used to destroy the Middle East. To believe you must cleanse yourself of all of these other beliefs,” he says.

“You have to believe that this works.” A lot of what David tells Simaloi on this day is about her own belief that his medicine can work.

Because he doesn’t profess to have any specialised knowledge as a doctor or as a traditional healer, we ask David on a different occasion how he came about this medicine.

The one area he says he does have experience in, belief, and faith, gives us the answer. “There is something inside called a guiding spirit,” he says.

David then goes on to explain to Simaloi what his medicine is. “What we are going to do is that we are going to kill the virus. One thing is that you will start to feel changes in 10 days.

“In 15 days’ time people will start to notice. My medicine will do its work. You will have to attend to other things like eating right.”

But having heard advise like this before, an attentive Simaloi has some questions. “Are you saying that this will kill the virus completely?” she asks whereupon David explains:

“When you see people who have lived for six years without using ARVS coming back to help, what do you say? We are coming from old wineskins to new wineskins.” He explains.

After what has been 30 minutes of a back and forth between David and Simaloi, he goes to get his medicine.

His medicine, which he calls poochmed, is extracted mostly from plants and natural products but he won’t tell us what it’s made of.

Simaloi though seems happy with the discussion. “I’m still very positive. Usually I walk into a place but today I have got no nagging feeling about this,” she says.

Minutes later, poochmed, David’s medicine is brought out. Simaloi and Manu have their first taste. David insists on their taking more water than usual to help the medicine in its effectiveness.

This first dose will last Simaloi and Manu two weeks, after which they will need to come back and get a second dose.

David also wants them to return so that he can monitor their progress, and chat with Simaloi, who he feels still has misgivings about the medicine; especially whether it will or won’t cure her of HIV.

A week later Simaloi and Manu are on their way to their regular clinic near their home and Simaloi says she’s feeling a big change in her since she began taking poochmed.

Manu, however, reacted to the medication badly and had diarhorrea for three days. “Now I have to take half dose”.

At the clinic, Simaloi decided to take a HIV test. Even though she knew her status, she thought it was a good opportunity to get the message out there that knowing your status is half the battle won.

She was also feeling very optimistic about poochmed. “I am positive, definitely positive,” she says.

In most hospitals that run HIV clinics, once a person tests positive for HIV, the next step is to get their CD4 count taken. Because she’s been feeling better, Simaloi decides to check her count.

“It’s not good,” she says. The doctors here shepherd her to the drugs counter to ensure that she takes her dose of ARVS.

But as we go back to her home, Simaloi begins to regain her confidence in poochmed. “I have seen drastic changes,” she says.

The effects of her bout of meningitis seem to have worn off, but this is where most doctors claim that herbal medicine can be at best confusing, and at worst, disastrous for someone’s health.

Prof Omu Anzala is the director of the Kenya Aids Vaccine Initiative. He’s been at the forefront of the search for a Kenyan developed aids vaccine.

“With proper science we diagnose and give treatment for HIV as well as for opportunistic diseases. With herbs you don’t know what is being treated,” says the professor.

“I don’t think that there is any herbal concoction that has proved efficacious against the disease,” says Dr Muraguri.

Even David himself knows that his chances at being taken seriously as a researcher that may have stumbled onto what could be the biggest medical triumph of this generation are slim.

“The biggest drawback with Africans is that if something does not come from the West we consider it primitive, backward. It has to come from over there so we can take it,” he protests.

————————
In our company, Simaloi and Manu are back in Molo to see David for their second dose of poochmed. Mother and son claim that their health has vastly improved.

The molluscum — the black pimples on her face, seem to have faded since the last time we saw her, and so outwardly at least, something seems to be happening.

But Simaloi still has questions about the efficacy of David’s drug. “I’ve always feared to ask this: Will I turn negative, what am I expecting?” she asks.

There seems to be confusion about whether David’s medicine cures or manages HIV, so I jump in to ask what exactly David believes the medicine does. He obliges.

“There has been no medicine that can isolate the virus within the CD4 and kill it,” he says. When we ask him if that is what the medicine does he replies in the affirmative.

“After the medicine does its work, you will test negative but if you go for another test you will test positive.

For instance there is a lawyer; a lady who says she tests negative but when she goes for, I don’t know what, virology, she tests positive,” says David.

David also claims to have given his medicine to nearly one hundred people like the lawyer he has just described. We ask to contact them, but he is hesitant.

He claims that none of his former patients ever wants to be associated with the disease — or with him after they’ve been healed.

It takes us months to convince him to let us interview one of his “patients”. On our third visit to Molo, he introduces us to a friend and a neighbour of his whom he says took poochmed. He is the 30-year-old John Hamisi Hanga.

John Hamisi looks frail, the effects of what he says was his brush with death, after contracting tuberculosis late in 2010.

Tuberculosis is one of the more common and deadly opportunistic diseases that affect HIV positive people who have progressed to stage three of the virus.

Hanga though, claims that he’s doing much better than he was in January 2011, when he was given anti-retrovirals after his diagnosis.

“The drugs reacted badly on me so I took them back to the doctor who said I had no alternative but to use them. But then I happened to meet this man David.”

Source: http://www.nation.co.ke/Features/DN2/-/957860/1318584/-/awrpek/-/index.html

It begins, I believe, with the modeling that we witness as we grow up.  It, being the preconceived thought pattern young girls allow to penetrate their identity, of what type of man they find attractive.  This is not something that is easily avoided.  If a young girl lives day in and day out with a father or male figure that is authoritative, demanding and unfair to the women in his life, then that young woman may seek out men with similar personalities in their mates as they reach sexual maturity.  Boys that witness their fathers or male figures verbally or physically lashing out against the women in their proximity may begin to feel that the mode of communication or allowed format of “being” with a woman constitutes an abusive type of demeanor from them.  Not to say that drugs and alcohol in some people cannot play a part in personality changes, but for the most part, we seek out people that provide a comfort level to us.  Unfortunately, the comforting feeling may stem from abusive attention.

People, women in general, don’t enter into relationships hoping to be degraded, yelled at or physically abused.  Many times, the symptoms are present from the beginning.  It may present itself in the form of constant insults or the continuous questioning of their decisions from their partner.  A way to demean them or question their abilities. Then, it may slowly progress to pushing or shoving.  Lastly, and most seriously, hitting or punching, choking and kicking.

I knew quite a few battered women as a teen.  I was afraid of their husbands.  These men would walk into the room and snap their fingers and the woman would jump up, no life in her eyes and shoo me out the door.  I would walk down their  stairs and hear slaps and cries and often, I could hear furniture being toppled over.  I never told anyone.  I was afraid to.  The next day, I would visit my neighbor and see her sporting a new black eye and listen to her excuses as to why her boyfriend or husband got mad the night before.  I begged these women to leave these men.  They stated they couldn’t.  Eventually, they moved away, to another neighborhood where the neighbors hadn’t yet begun to alert the police about the screams of terror coming from their home.  The most shocking of endings during that time in my life was the loss of a 17 year old babysitter in the neighborhood.  She was always fighting with her boyfriend and coming to work with bruises around her neck and arms and bloody lips.  I told my parents about her and I’m sure out of fear, they told me to mind my own business.  One weekend, she told me she was going out of town to meet her boyfriend and she was going to tell him that she had had enough.  They found her body in a ditch the following Monday.  I ran outside and cried after my mom had broken the news.  I felt responsible for her death.  I knew she was going to meet this monster but I didn’t know who he was or what his name was.  I felt helpless and petrified that I one day would meet up with someone like that myself.

In college, I had a friend that would get into fist fights with her boyfriend.  Then, afterward, they would make passionate love.  I couldn’t understand that kind of foreplay.  They eventually ended it with each other; thank God, after they put each other in the hospital.  She threw a full sized antique mirror down the stairs on top of him, breaking his leg.  He grabbed her by the arm and twisted so hard that he popped her shoulder out of socket and broke her arm.  I still wonder today if both of them married abusers.

As an adult, I have made friends with people from all walks of life.  Some of them are being abused as I write at this moment.  These women are smart, educated women.  They are athletic and work to support the family.  They wear clothing to hide their body marks.  Or, they tell their “war” stories of how they staved off the most recent attack as if they are bragging.  Some of these women are hollow shells, with sunken eyes and smile less faces.  They go through their daily routines of raising their children, catering to their husbands and pretending that others have it worse than they do so they shouldn’t complain.

The fact is, NO ONE should be subjected to constant or intermittent battering.  Yes, we all yell, argue and possibly get into heated arguments with our loved ones.  The difference is simple.  Beyond a hurt feeling and some tears, no one truly gets hurt to the point where they are immobilized in their life.  Constant mental abuse knocks the self esteem right out of you.  Fear keeps a person from speaking out.  Fear of more abuse keeps them quiet.  Relationships should not have this as the building block or the foundation.  Home should be a place where one feels safe.  If you don’t feel safe in your own home, or have never known the feeling of safety, then please call your local abuse hot line.

I have suported local abuse shelters for women and their children for years but giving clothing, toiletries, toys and food.  I cannot imagine how difficult it is for these families to leave all that they have and begin a new life; in hiding for some.  I left a mentally abusive relationship but I had the financial means to begin again.  I realize that many women fear what will happen to their children or anticipate more abuse if they attempt to leave.

The children however are forming images of what they believe a relationship should look like.  If your relationship is abusive, then that will be the comfort zone for your child unless they are lucky, as I was, to have other influences in their lives that can help steer them toward good choices in life.  I saw a lot of abuse.  I saw many adults throughout my life tell me that my business was to stay out of other’s.  I have been told by my friends that they can’t imagine giving what they have up to begin again.  I hope that someday, they can realize that they don’t have anything if all they hang on to is the dream that he won’t come home and beat her that night.  Abuse is death.  Even if you feel like you are alive…you are allowing someone to slowly kill you from the inside out.  It is a slow and painful death.  For the abused, the children and difficult for those who love you to watch you remain in a situation that could mean the end of your life one day.

My wish for you, if you are in this type of situation is that you will empower yourself with faith in humanity and the kindnesses of your friends and family.  Seek out people that can help you realize your potential.  Read books.  Scour the Internet.  Erase your history if you fear that your abuser will discover your resolve to change yourself.  You have as much right to be happy as any of us.  He will not change.  He will always give you excuses.  Put your children and their future first if you cannot imagine yourself as being important enough at this moment.  Do something.  Pray to God.  Make a friend.  Think of a time in your life when you felt confident in yourself and slowly work yourself toward that moment again.  Build up your bravery and know that it is NOT your fault.  Live without fear.  LIVE.

Ken Mac Dougall bit into the sandwich his wife had packed him for lunch and noticed something odd—a Post-it note tucked between the ham and the cheese. He pulled it out of his mouth, smoothed the crinkles and read what his wife had written: “Be in aisle 10 of Home Depot tonight at 6 p.m.”

Mr. Mac Dougall was renovating the couple’s Oak Ridge, N.J., kitchen, and his wife had been urging him to pick out the floor tiles. He felt he had plenty of time to do this task. She felt unheard.

“I thought the note was an ingenious and hysterical way to get his attention,” says his wife, Janet Pfeiffer (whose occupation, interestingly enough, is a motivational speaker), recalling the incident which occurred several years ago. Her husband, a technician at a company that modifies vehicles for handicapped drivers, didn’t really see it that way. “I don’t need a reminder in the middle of my sandwich,” he says.

Nagging—the interaction in which one person repeatedly makes a request, the other person repeatedly ignores it and both become increasingly annoyed—is an issue every couple will grapple with at some point. While the word itself can provoke chuckles and eye-rolling, the dynamic can potentially be as dangerous to a marriage as adultery or bad finances. Experts say it is exactly the type of toxic communication that can eventually sink a relationship.

Personality contributes to the dynamic, Dr. Wetzler says. An extremely organized, obsessive or anxious person may not be able to refrain from giving reminders, especially if the partner is laid back and often does things at the last minute. Other people are naturally resistant—some might say lazy—and could bring out the nagger in anyone.

It is possible for husbands to nag, and wives to resent them for nagging. But women are more likely to nag, experts say, largely because they are conditioned to feel more responsible for managing home and family life. And they tend to be more sensitive to early signs of problems in a relationship. When women ask for something and don’t get a response, they are quicker to realize something is wrong. The problem is that by asking repeatedly, they make things worse.

Men are to blame, too, because they don’t always give a clear answer. Sure, a husband might tune his wife out because he is annoyed; nagging can make him feel like a little boy being scolded by his mother. But many times he doesn’t respond because he doesn’t know the answer yet, or he knows the answer will disappoint her.

Nagging can become a prime contributor to divorce when couples start fighting about the nagging rather than talking about the issue at the root of the nagging, says Howard Markman, professor of psychology at the University of Denver and co-director of the Center for Marital and Family Studies. For 30 years, Dr. Markman has researched conflict and communication in relationships and offered relationship counseling and marriage seminars. He says that while all couples deal with nagging at some point, those who learn to reduce this type of negative communication will substantially increase their odds of staying together and keeping love alive. Couples who don’t learn often fall out of love and split up.

Research that Dr. Markman published in 2010 in the Journal of Family Psychology indicates that couples who became unhappy five years into their marriage had a roughly 20% increase in negative communication patterns consistent with nagging, and a 12% decrease in positive communication. “Nagging is an enemy of love, if allowed to persist,” Dr. Markman says.

The good news: Couples can learn to stop nagging. Early in their marriage, Ms. Pfeiffer, now 62, repeatedly reminded her husband about household tasks and became more demanding when he ignored her. “If I was asking him to take care of something that mattered to me and he was blowing me off, that made me feel like I didn’t matter,” she says.

Mr. Mac Dougall, 58, says the nagging made his muscles tense, he would become silent and his eyes would glaze over in a “thousand-yard stare.” “Her requests conveyed some sort of urgency that I didn’t think was needed,” he says. “If I said I was going to get to it, I would definitely get to it.”

Ms. Pfeiffer decided to soften her approach. She asked herself, “How can I speak in a way that is not threatening or offensive to him?” She began writing requests on Post-it notes, adding little smiley faces or hearts. Mr. Mac Dougall says he was initially peeved about the sandwich note but did show up at Home Depot that evening smiling.

Ms. Pfeiffer sometimes writes notes to him from the appliances that need to be fixed. “I really need your help,” a recent plea began. “I am really backed up and in a lot of discomfort.” It was signed “your faithful bathtub drain.” “As long as I am not putting pressure on him, he seems to respond better,” Ms. Pfeiffer says. Mr. Mac Dougall agrees. “The notes distract me from the face-to-face interaction,” he says. “There’s no annoying tone of voice or body posture. It’s all out of the equation.”

The first step in curbing the nagging cycle, experts say, is to admit that you are stuck in a bad pattern. You are fighting about fighting. You need to work to understand what makes the other person tick. Rather than lazy and unloving, is your husband overworked and tired? Is your wife really suggesting she doesn’t trust you? Or is she just trying to keep track of too many chores?

Noreen Egurbide, 44, of Westlake Village, Calif., says she used to give her husband frequent reminders to take out the garbage, get the car serviced or pick up the kids from school. “I thought I was helping him,” she says. Jose Egurbide, 47, often waited a while before doing what she asked. The couple would argue. Sometimes Ms. Egurbide would just do it herself.

A few years ago, they got insight into their nagging problem after taking a problem-solving assessment test, the Kolbe Assessment. Ms. Egurbide, a business coach, learned she is a strategic planner who gathers facts and organizes in advance. Her husband, an attorney, learned that he is resistant to being boxed into a plan. Now, Ms. Egurbide says, “I don’t take it personally when he doesn’t respond.” “There is a sense of recognition about what’s happening,” Mr. Egurbide says. “It’s easier to accommodate each other.”

Death by a Thousand Reminders

Is nagging a problem in your relationship? Here are some tips for both partners to help curb it.

•Calm down—both of you. Recognize the pattern you are in and talk about how to address it as a team. You will both need to change your behavior, and ground rules can help.

•Look at it from the other person’s perspective. ‘Honey, when you ignore me I feel that you don’t love me.’ ‘I feel that you don’t appreciate what I am already doing when you nag me.’

•If you are the nagger, realize you are asking for something. Use an ‘I’ not a ‘you’ statement. Say ‘I would really like you to pay the Visa bill on time,’ instead of ‘You never pay the bill on time.’

•Explain why your request is important to you. ‘I worry about our finances when you pay the bill late. We can’t afford to pay late fees.’

•Manage your expectations. Make sure you are asking for something that is realistic and appropriate. Does the light bulb need to be changed immediately?

•Set a timeframe. Ask when your partner can expect to finish the task. (‘Can you change the car oil this weekend?’) Let him tell you when it works best for him to do it.

•If you are the naggee, give a clear response to your partner’s request. Tell her honestly if you can do what she asks and when. Then follow through. Do what you say you will do.

•Consider alternative solutions. Maybe it’s worth it to hire a handyman, rather than harm your relationship with arguing.

Source: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203806504577180811554468728.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

Most women love fun and crave for family romance but average men perform poorly in these.

A good number of men are completely clueless on how spice up the marriage. An average man is responsible enough to provide for his family and offer security but creating family fun is a weakness to many.

If you are lucky you will get one who understands the basics. That of buying you chocolate, occasional flowers and a once in a long while dinner outing.

He might be good in providing for the family and is faithful to you but the missing small things can easily lead to lack of fulfillment in marriage.

While these major things are the building pillars of any marriage the small things spice it up. Family fun and romance adds flavor to the relationship.

Remain Positive:

The automatic reaction of an average woman when she discovers her man is ‘boring’ is to rant about it and let all her friends know she married a mshamba. The tendency is to give up on ever sharing fun and family romance with him and choosing to enjoy life with the children and friends.

The danger here is that you miss out on the fulfilling opportunity of sharing and enjoying life as a couple. Extremes of this solo fun have also resulted to infidelity.

Since you already in it your best bet is to make the best out of it; to resolve to make it work. The first place to start is to appreciate his strengths, those things that attracted you to him. This appreciation helps you acknowledge there is nothing wrong with your man only that there are things he does better.

Your next step is to resist the temptation of gossip. Broadcasting it to your girl friends never helps the situation. It has a way of taking your eyes from appreciating the good things he has and consumes the remaining confidence you have in him. Never allow your husband to be the Chama gossip or the girls out hot topic. This safeguards the respect of your man and ensures you remain focused to work on it.

Having protected your man from outsiders and appreciating his strength your next step is to create the family fun you would want to have in your marriage.

Speak your mind

One of the biggest mistakes women make is imagining that their husbands will figure out their needs. Even when it seems so obvious what works for you most men fail terribly to figure it out. You might be mourning that he does not care about you yet he is confused on what to do to make you happy. Speak it in black and white or other times proverbially but ensure you communicate.

If he is buying a lot of dresses yet you love trousers let him know. Don’t allow him to keep buying red roses whereas you want yellow ones. He might not meet your needs as fast as you would like but at least he knows.

It wound help to understand his view of good family time and romance. Get into his world and get what works for him. However ‘danda’ he looks you will be surprised that he has something. Working together with him and through sober talking you will be able to create your own fashion of fun and family romance.

The key here is to ensure that you don’t get obsessed with your fashion of fun and attempt to drag him into it because you will fail terribly.

Don’t Copy:

It is good to appreciate that all relationships are unique and therefore what works in one might not necessarily work in another. Your call is to avoid duplicating what your friend is doing but to go the extra mile and create a world of fun that fits the two of you.

Fulfilling marriage is about meeting your partner’s needs and meeting them in the best way he/she would feel appreciated. Family fun needs a creative and dedicated heart. It calls us to resist the temptation of blame game and take on the cloth of responsibility.

It doesn’t have to be all extraordinary expensive things but small yet special things could do the trick. Think about candle lit dinner, a dinner out, a family weekend holiday or a Sunday afternoon family outing.

Whereas naturally the man should initiate these when you know he has a weakness take up the lead and ensure that your family is complete. Instead of ranting about it appreciate his other strengths and make it your business to spice up the union.

Source: http://kagiriwaithera.wordpress.com/2011/07/18/when-you-marry-a-boring-man/

The first day of the Queen’s reign dawned a trifle oddly

THE  first day of the Queen’s reign dawned quietly enough, if a trifle oddly, as it found her 30ft up a tree. The then Princess Elizabeth was at Treetops, the famous hotel in Kenya where guests stay in cabins carved out of wild fig trees overlooking the water holes where the big game come to drink.

Photo/FILE House-helps take a lot of flak from their bosses, some of who are straight from hell.

My bank is a rubbish bank. I could leave, but I look at the other options and none inspires me to make the jump.

And that’s the thing with banks – they are like women. You could leave, but for what?

You leave one hoping to find peace and happiness with the other, only to find that the new one goes to bed with a pair of scissors under her pillow and, worse, sleep walks.

That’s a woman you don’t want to go to bed angry. Anyway, back to the reason why I am so upset with my bank: Mobile banking.

Or rather, my bank’s refusal to let me enjoy the convenience and simplicity of said mobile banking. I filled the forms ages ago.

They promised they would call me with codes and things when it was good and ready. A year later, I am still waiting.

Instead, they get these pesky guys to call me about the new, exciting products that they are offering their clients – except that these exciting products are not exciting at all because they are loans.

So anyway, I decide to pay these ‘exciting’ guys a visit and ask them whose feet I have to wash to get mobile banking.

So there I am, sitting in the customer care section, waiting for my turn. In front of me is a middle-aged lady fiddling with her phone.

Another lady spots her and walks over to say hello. It is evident from the production that ensues that they haven’t seen each other in a while.

They do the whole confusing thirty-peck thing on the cheeks. Then follow the niceties about children, hair, dress and shoes. Nobody asks about Baba Nani.

Then one of the ladies mentions, frustration palpable in her voice, that she has to run back home because her house-help hasn’t yet come back from shagz after the December holidays.

The discussion then turns into a long discourse about maids and their cheek.

It seems this is the season for house-helps to do a number on their employers. And the house-helps seem to know not only where to squeeze, but when to squeeze.

And their excuses are insulting to the intelligence. There are those who get mugged and have their phones stolen on the day of travel. Or some who said they were on their way back… two days ago.

There are those whose mothers suddenly fall ill, or whose hair wasn’t finished on time at the salon because the hairdresser went into early labour.

Or some who haven’t decided whether all those hours spent explaining why sugar and other essentials don’t last a month is worth it.

Or my favourite – the ones who find out that they are pregnant while in the village.

That said, their employers aren’t any better, calling in sick at their place of work when they are actually inspecting their chicken farm in Kitengela.

It’s the capitalist drama; when you are not screwing someone over you are the one being screwed. But house-helps take a lot of flak from their bosses, some of who are straight from hell.

They have to deal with the brats that have become our children – kids who have never heard of the word ‘respect’.

They wake up early, sleep late, and earn meagre wages which they have to split between ailing relatives, children who need school fees and a new weave so that they can look just like the boss.

So when mothers call and ask, “Kwani ulisema unakuja lini, Betty? Usipokuja leo uje na uchukue vitu zako, mimi sina wakati wa kubembeleza mtu,” they roll their eyes and go back to sifting the rice.

House helps wield silent powers in the house, not because they understand the children more than their mothers, or know the domestic politics of the house, but because they can grind everything to a halt if they decide to.

Source: http://www.nation.co.ke/Features/saturday/The+help+is+away+without+official+leave+/-/1216/1301008/-/e3lbjf/-/index.html