Dennis Waithaka Gichimu

I Lied About Being Single to Avoid Catching the Bouquet — and It Spiraled By Dennis Waithaka Gichimu It started with a flying bouquet and ended with a fake breakup, a confused aunt, and a rumor that I’m “still healing.” Let me explain. Last December, I attended my cousin Carol’s wedding — the kind of Kenyan wedding where half the village shows up, the MC has more airtime than the bride, and one goat dies for every ten guests. Everything was going smoothly. I’d eaten, danced, taken photos in front of a flower wall that looked like it came straight from Pinterest but smelled like glue, and was ready to sneak out before the “catch the bouquet” chaos began. But then I heard it:​ “Ladies who are not yet married, kuja hapa mbele! It’s time!” Now, in most cultures, bouquet tossing is harmless. Fun, even. But in Kenya? It’s an emotional ambush. You’re paraded in front of hundreds of aunties and family friends, all silently judging you like you’re livestock at a county fair. I panicked. I wasn’t in the mood to be seen as part of the “still available” squad. I’d recently started dating someone casually, quietly and the last thing I wanted was for him to be tagged in a wedding photo captioned: “Future Mr. Waithaka?” So when Auntie Jane turned to me and said, “Dennis, enda mbele ,you’re not married,” I replied with a shrug and a lie that would soon spiral: “Actually, I am seeing someone. Very seriously. Possibly even engaged.” Auntie Jane’s eyes lit up. “Whaaat? You didn’t tell us! Bring him home! Is he Kikuyu?” It got worse. Fast. Before I could slink back into the crowd, she grabbed the mic from the MC. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have just learned Dennis is off the market!” Cue applause. I smiled through my teeth. The DJ played a love song. And suddenly, I wasn’t just avoiding the bouquet I was in a committed relationship that didn’t exist. The Aftermath I didn’t think it would go far. I assumed it would be forgotten by dessert. But Kenyans, bless their record-keeping hearts, remember everything. A week later, my mom called to say someone from church was “praying over my upcoming union.” Another relative DM’d me to ask if I’d set a date. Now I had to loop in the guy I was casually dating let’s call him Kev.​ “Hey, remember how we’re not serious?” I said.​ He nodded.​ “Cool. Well, my entire family thinks we’re engaged.” Kev ghosted me two weeks later. Fair. Eventually, I had to “break up” with my imaginary fiancé. I told Auntie Jane the engagement had been called off due to “irreconcilable differences” a vague, respectable term that could mean anything from cheating to him supporting Arsenal. Now whenever there’s a family function, someone always whispers, “Be gentle with him. He’s still recovering.” What I Learned ●​ Never lie at a wedding. The spirits of truth, love, and nosy relatives are watching. ●​ There’s power in standing still while the bouquet flies. Let it land where it may. Or duck. ●​ Sometimes it’s okay to be single — or just say you are. There’s less pressure, less storytelling, and no fake engagements to maintain. Next time I’ll just laugh, line up with the rest of the hopefuls, and maybe even jump for the bouquet. Who knows — the next spiral might actually lead to something real.