A special suit for going to bed

ANXIOUS that I would not be the laughing stock at boarding school, Mother bought me a pair of pyjamas.
“We don’t want other boys to know that this is your first ever pair of pyjamas,” Mother said as she washed my night clothes on the wash board. “A thorough wash will take away the starch but leave the pyjamas still looking new.”
I rubbed together my hands in glee, wishing I could there and then fly to the boarding school. I itched to shine in those floral brown pyjamas. Two days later, I was in the boarding school dormitory with 11 other boys. Whistling a catchy tune, I took out my pyjamas from the black trunk and put them on. The soft flannel was gentle on my skin. I playfully pulled the elastic waist line.

“Wow!” A tall lad exclaimed, admiring me, “this chap is coming straight of the white man’s world. A special suit for going to bed!”
“They are called pyjamas,” I told him.

The lad chuckled, slapped his thigh and exclaimed: “What we will see here! The white boy even has a name for his night clothes.”
“Huh,” a boy next to my bed snorted, “putting on clothes when going to bed is like wearing sunglasses on a pitch-dark night — a total waste.”
“No, it is not a waste,” the tall lad leapt to my defence. “How else can those with too much money show off?”

Laughter rippled through the boys. That night, my dormitory mates entertained each other with jokes about boys who adopted strange foreign habits like wearing clothes in bed.

The following morning I put back the pyjamas right at the bottom of the trunk. Throughout the six years I was at the boarding school, I never wore pyjamas again.

In fact up to now, one of my greatest achievements is that I have never wasted money buying pyjamas for myself. What for? On hot nights I go to bed as Adam was before the fall. On warm nights, I am content with old shorts. Come cold nights, I snuggle into my old loose fitting clothes.
What about you dear reader? Do you burden yourself with real pyjamas?

Lest you accuse me of stinginess, kindly be advised that three times, I have bought my wife night dresses. I am after all my mother’s son. I did not want my wife to be the laughing stock on her first nights at the maternity ward. Yes, on three occasions I have bought her night dresses.
Not so long back my wife told me she was going to buy herself a night dress. My heart leapt into my mouth but I quickly swallowed it back. I felt sweat run down my spine. “Will it be safe for you to give birth 20 years after our last child?” I asked.

“What makes you think I am expecting?”
“Why would you need a new night dress?”
She laughed. “I am preparing for the ladies’ church conference.”

I frowned. “What has a church conference got to do with night dresses?”
She sighed and shook her head. “We will be sharing bedrooms and I am sure all the ladies will be sporting new night dresses. You don’t want your wife to be the odd one out.”

“I see no need for new night dresses. You already have those night dresses I bought you. Besides, your t-shirts and old tracksuit bottoms are comfortable and beautiful. I am sure your friends . . . ”

“It is not as if I want to buy those trendy designer night dresses and fluffy gowns worn by the leading ladies in soap operas. I just want something new, simple, respectable and different for each conference. Be warned, several conferences are coming up. With this buying of night dresses, I have not yet said one. More shopping trips are on the way. Mind you some husbands, I suppose these are loving ones, take it upon themselves to buy their wives . . .”

“Okay, okay, go buy the simple type suitable for the conference,” I said with finality.
The other day my cousin told me that his favourite time was towards general elections.

“Since when have you been interested in politics?” I asked him.
“I am not but towards elections, I am a political animal. I belong to every political party and attend as many rallies as possible. My mission is simply to amass enough t-shirts for myself and family until the next elections. Mzala, t-shirts make the best pyjama tops and what a variety I harvest! My wife and I go to bed wearing t-shirts of different political parties. So you see, we don’t just preach tolerance, we practice it.”

They say at times you struggle with a problem when the solution is right there in front of you. I have seen the light. The arguments with my wife about pyjamas are over. Soon she will have all the variety a woman desires. I am going into politics.

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