Married men and home cooked food—the untold fear behind

One too many times I have found myself on a round table, often with married men—both officially and otherwise, discussing the institution of marriage, children and the kind of parenting models they are implementing. We have discussed the first words their kids said, the ecstasy of hearing those words, the joy they’ve experienced in watching them grow from a fragile being straight out of the womb into mini-me’s that are running around the small spaces of their rental homes, at least for most, while laughing uncontrollably over nothings.

Some have gone on to share about the indescribable joy that fills them when their kids run to welcome them back from work with a hug and a smile wide enough to render their ears inexistent, each eager to share their own stories of the day, most of which include learnings, small squabbles with either mummy, a friend or a sibling and who wants to be bought what.

For those with more than one kid, the delight of watching them fight for your full attention in the snap of a moment, each wanting to tell their story first or, if it’s a common story, the competition of wanting to beat the other to telling the story. The joy of having to listen intently so as to be able to predict half-baked or mispronounced words and try to make sense out of a conversation from a toddler that’s yet to have a good command of their tongue but very eager to tell their story without leaving out any detail.

Although it comes with its subtle pressures, strictly out of love, some have shared the joy, and concern in equal measure, of having to keep up with some of their demands, often being toys and other things.

Those with school going kids have discussed the schools their children are attending and what influenced their choice of school, with most left feeling fulfilled with the things their kids are learning. Some have been kind enough to retell what their kids say about their teachers. Of course, it’s not without the struggles of early morning school drop-offs that often involve Kampala’s heavy traffic, the agony of walking the mud on a rainy day when you don’t have a car among other things.

And in broader context, some men have shared how they govern their homes, how they navigate marriage and its everyday commitments, the challenges and sticking points they’ve had to face, the non-negotiables for some and what helps their marriages stay strong.

Finances, mostly in the ability to provide, the sexual prowess or something close to it as well as their availability, both physically and emotionally, part of which involves just sitting there and listen, or at least pretend to, intently—which is often signaled by your interjections in acknowledgement (mmmmh) or otherwise.

However, when all is done and dusted, I have always found one common unsettling fact, an itching burnt bush-like thorn in the foot. Surprisingly though, some find it okay while others speak about it without ease, as if they are not at liberty to say–that it’s a pinch that keeps on giving.

Many of them have trouble or uneasiness eating office food or lunch in the right amount, fearing that if they eat a little more, they won’t be able to eat what is regarded as enough at home. I have watched and chit chatted with some as they eat portions less than what they would desire during a conference at a fancy hotel for the simple reason that they need to reserve some space for what they will consume when they return home. Not because they relish the thought of returning home to eat a home-cooked meal but rather the fear of unwritten strict terms under which they must eat this food. Which begged the question for me, is it a must to eat even if you don’t feel like doing so? Must one literally wait-starve themselves just because they must eat at home!

Whereas really, it’s perhaps the pleasure of every woman to see their husband eat a hefty plate empty of a home cooked meal, should it not be considerate! Isn’t a married man not allowed to be without appetite on any given day of their marriage or return home after a long day’s work that culminated into a late lunch that they don’t want to do dinner without lingers of suspicions of where they ate! Can’t a wife serve just a portion that’s to the husband’s liking, rather than what feels like an indirectly forced bigger portion? I wondered to myself.

If you don’t eat the food, then she will stop cooking. And if she stops cooking, then you will eventually start complaining, one of the guys remarked. A mental prison many have been locked in, I often thought to myself. And then more recently, a closer friend, who we often go months without speaking but just pick up the slack from wherever we left off every time we chance to meet, recounted that it’s “a tricky part for most married men”. “You can’t say no to the food or else you will be grilled, or chastised depending on the character you married,” he explained.

Isn’t there a middle ground where a married man can enjoy their lunch at work without the fearful thought of what will happen if they can’t eat “enough” at home. Those with lived experience, more the one in my jacket pockets, please indulge me with lessons. Otherwise, I just don’t get it.