Here’s something I don’t get. Some women think that there is only one man for them, they believe in the concept of ‘Mr Right’. Let’s not go into whether I believe this or not. It’s irrelevant. What baffles me is that they have this belief and will still lie and pretend in order to get the man they want.
Take a girl, let’s call her Ebube. Ebube likes Ikem. Ebube thinks Ikem is exactly the kind of man she wants, but Ikem does not like women who are outspoken. So Ebube being a ‘smart girl’ decides to be as quiet as a mouse; all her responses become ‘Yes, sir‘ and ‘No, sir’ and ‘Three bags full, sir’.
Ikem also likes women who scrub his feet with coarse salt and warm water each time he comes back from work and even though Ebube has a rule about whose feet she touches and when, she goes ahead and scrubs away, excusing herself at intervals to ‘check the food on the fire’ all the while going into the toilet to vomit until her intestines are in her throat.
(I wrote this at the weekend and forgot to put it up.) I was doing some …ahem!…research when I stumbled onto my MyHeritage.com. I decided to upload my picture to see which celebrities look like me. The results were…
I mean, Coolio? Seriously? Now look at all these people again. What is the one thing you think they have in common with me? Go on, guess.
I laughed at this video because a lot of Igbo boys I know are like this. Their salaka is too much, biko. When you dash and dash like this, after marriage what will you give her then eh? I swear, that’s why a lot of you slack after the wedding.
During courtship: Porsche Panamera (or other car) + funky coloured hair-do, which of course you paid for.
After wedding: Jacked-up hair + waking her up in the middle of the night with “Bia, nwanyi. Ji arulu aru na-agu m” and expecting her to roast yams at that time of the night.
OK, OK, fine. I have been told I am hard on your guys but really, it’s all love.
I have heard o! Flavour is engaged. Whoop-di-do. Congratulations to him (and Her!).
Now I have acknowledged it, you may cease pressing your ‘Send’ buttons. Even Hubs is in on it. You should have seen the speed with which he sent me the news, sef. I could imagine him sitting back and cackling.
Thank you all for your concern. I am not sad, marriage is a beautiful thing and a true Igbo man should endeavour to marry at least once in each lifetime. It is a sign of manhood. He will get to drink the dregs of palmwine because oji oru n’aka.
However, if Flavour N’abania were retiring, the story would have been completely different:
You know how sometimes, you see something and you wish you had written it yourself? (This is how I amass writer friends. I simply decide that rather than being jealous like I used to in…ahem! …ages past, I would simply befriend them.) Well, this one is one of those such things. I could have used the lesson in this when I was 16.
And 23. Heck, I could have used it not three years ago, dammit!
Ah, I miss writing poetry.
Enjoy this one.
I bind myself loosely so that you’ll see me
and not too tightly so that you can understand me
So, I come apart trying
…and you aren’t here for the pieces.
Pieces that you say will never touch floor,
Are stuck in muddy expectations
I don’t recognize them anymore-
Me. Is this me?
This come-away, this back-and-fort-undecided
This can’t be me
I, pour forth from generations of kings that disregard their crown
Not because it doesn’t fit but because
The weight of gold is a constant reminder
of a responsibility we constantly wish-away.
Now this is me
Hands-on, cut-the-crap, say-what-you’re-about girl
You can take this response as my ability to get up
even when I touch floor
To trust again and slide from rubble
Knowing that these cracked situations are training wheels
…I catch a bus …I ride…