C’MON LUHYA MEN; C’MON!

 

I am seated in the salon having a time of my life enjoying someone else making me look good. I grab a copy of the many lifestyle magazines they display around to help us beat boredom or for freaks, to kill thoughts of the drier catching fire while you are in it. I ease myself in the chair as I prepare to suck in all the envy I’ll be feeling as I read about ‘perfect’ people with ‘perfect’ lives. He is right there on the cover page, easily one of the few hot Luhya men around seeing as he has a face that plasters perfectly on the glossy cover. If rumors are to be trusted he is a loaded city tycoon with an entrepreneurial acumen that is so very rare where I come from. It is not hard to see why he nailed the beautiful (and controversial) highlands politician resting her head rather lovingly on his generous chest on the colorful portrait that is the cover page of the lifestyle mag.  Then there’s the catch; the headline reads: ‘Mrs. and Mr…’ Is the Editor of the mag a Feminist or what?! Good heavens! A catchy quote further reads: “I can do anything to protect my wife and family, even if it meant dying for them bla bla!”

 

Ove musiru sana.

 

If you know the couple in the above scoop you definitely know there is something fishy, something not so very right that informs my beef with Luhya men: where the heck does your manhood go to when you get involved with women from the highlands? Why are all the good Luhya men, sorry, sissies taken by women from the highlands?

 

The answer to the latter could be that there are more beautiful women in the highlands than in the rusty bundus of Western. We can’t blame men for being rather visual, can we? Alternatively, I hear that the only useful thing about the omundus who find themselves in the highlands are their bigger than normal ‘Johnies’ (by highland standards). Sissies who are good in bed, strange, right? I risk suffering from foot in mouth disease since a good number of my male relatives too have opted for the highlands. This is a personal rant; what is so wrong with us Luhya women that our men are treated like ‘rugs’ in foreign lands while we treat ‘semejis’ like kings where we are married/ dating from?

 

My best friend has been piling pressure on me to find and date a fella from home; apparently it would be a ‘waste’ to take my kind of genes to another county where ‘there already are too many other good women’. The stereotypical Luhya man is a serial polygamist, a wife batterer and is painfully un- ambitious. I wouldn’t be caught dead near a man who will not house his kids well and take them to good schools. I can only breathe easy that my own dad does not fall anywhere near that awful stereotype. I am not currently available but a quick survey on campus revealed that the few civilized and dateable Luhya men were already taken, by women from other counties of course! Yaani where was I when all the good Luhya men were being grabbed?! It’s my loss if you know the kind of hot bodies guys from Western have; combine that with a sharp brain and voila! Husband material.

 

Back to our bros who decide to climb mountains; they never go back home, ever. No one knows how their children look like or even their names. They suddenly develop an affinity for the big cities and actually are the same idiots who ‘refuse’ to be transported back home once dead. They live large in the cities but have no structure to call a home in the villages and are normally built for ‘risee’ upon death. ‘Risee’ for those who do not understand is an ugly structure made of plastic bags (preferably dirty) built (at night) for the shame of a man who dies without having built his own house. Their kids are no different; they speak atherere and go by names like Kamau and Wanjiku. I am a Feminist but that is the height of a man being ‘sat on’, it should never go to such extents.

 

Those who make out of the mountains alive are a wrecked lot and live to tell tales of how the house was emptied and everything including kids ferried to an unknown destination by their dear highland wives. They receive beatings too and are cheated on right, left and center (refer to our cover page couple at the beginning). Men with their money and names are reduced to nothingness.

 

Back to us, your women. Ni ki kya kuvura kya muhevwa na Vaseve? When you people are broke like church mice you happily date and marry your own but once you make money you go running after akina Ciru. Kwani mliskia sisi hatutaki pesa pia? Jinga.  I know you people despise us and think we are stupid, game less, submissive morons who should not live a good life. Here’s the reality though, most of us are now educated and capable of setting standards you will have to sweat to reach. We want our children to attend the best schools around so quit laziness, alcohol, women and stupidity and go make some real cash out there. We will live in leafy surburbs with you our dearest Luhya husbands paying the mortgage, go out there and make cash like other men do. I want my husband to have status so for the love of God go make some real cash out there and buy you a Range Rover or a Merc. Btw, I have every intention of attending clinic and delivering all our children in Aga Khan so you had better work hard and acquire that private medical cover.

 

Look, sweethearts, kill the idea that your women are stupid. We have brains and are capable of helping you build that business empire you want to have. We are well capable of raising the kids as you go for all those business travels. We will work on our careers as well too. We will not litter your house with kids like you think, we know about family planning. Oh, we are beautiful, and know you would like us to be glowing and fashionable always. C’mon, we totally know how to keep activities in the bedroom steamy too! Yes, I am a good, non- obligatory cook! Are we submissive? We have been raised to respect our husbands though, as long as you keep your end of the bargain. Divorce? Nah, most of us have been raised staunch Quakers and marriage is forever, as long as you don’t dare beat us up. Oh, pass the memo to our loving mothers- in- law too, random madharau from them will not be welcome.

 

One last thing, we hate it that you people normally litter ‘outside’ children all over before and after marriage; be advised that we will not be so lenient as to allow brats to come take our children’s rightful place like it’s been happening. Personally, only one ‘outside’ kid born before I met you is the much I can allow. If you ever fancied polygamy too, forget. This MoU has no such clause and any attempts to marry other women will result in a divorce that will leave you penniless and wrecked. Get that clearly, we are not stupid. Use your physical body advantage to give us maximum pleasure, not to beat us. I look forward to mutual respect from now onwards. Let’s make you kings, shall we?

A LUO MAN, A PERFECT MAN

 

He walks into the room and expertly scans the surroundings with one sweeping look. I am sure he is headed straight for me; his chin is poised at angle perfect enough for him to maintain a rather intimidating eye contact with me while seemingly smelling his own aura. His Hugho Boss cologne does the introduction for him metres before he even reaches me. He is tall, reasonably well built and with a richly dark skin that makes his facial features even more striking. He has glasses on; expensively- rimmed glasses. He is in a tailored official outfit that fits perfectly on his ‘Sauti Soulish’ body; two buttons deliberately left open to reveal an expensive piece of jewelry resting on that well- chiseled chest. His shoes, oh, those shoes! It has to be real leather, brown leather. With one hand inside the pocket, he casually glances at his Rolex watch momentarily shaking his arm and adjusting it to a position where he can check the time clearly. His steps seem to be following a well choreographed motion running through his mind, he owns every step he makes. In my mind I am adjusting that stray hair that seems to be out of place and refreshing my lipstick. I even practice that perfect cheese smile I always have on while in front of the mirror alone! In reality though, I am dazed; my eyes are on a drool. My heart is threatening to pop out of the chest and my entire being wants to bow before this fine bro and ask him to do with me as he pleases. He has had me even before hello!

 

With his arm fully stretched out for a firm handshake:

“Hello jaber, may I please have the honour of sharing your beautiful company over lunch?”

 

(Awkwardly smiling from cheek to cheek) “Hi, I do not mind company either.”

 

“I am Ian, Ian Mark O’dek*. My peers refer to me as Counsel O’dek though. May I know your pretty name?”

Sigh. They always have important- sounding names; it’s always two English names. He pronounced his surname with a stress on the first part, making it sound like some exotic designer brand. Notice that their careers are an informal part of their names too, if he doesn’t mention what he does within ten seconds of meeting you, he is not Luo.

 

“I’m Vilma, pleasure to meet you.”

 

Hehehe! Now now, it is not every day that I pronounce my first name like that, this is not just any man! My ‘A’- game always surfaces from Lord knows where when a Luo guy is involved. My English is at a personal best with words rolling off my tongue like I swallowed some goddamned Dictionary!

 

“That’s a unique and beautiful name jaber, sounds like a name from a well cultured family. So what do you do?”

 

“Thanks, I am in my final year in campus. I am taking a Finance Major.”

 

“Excellent! Beauty with brains, as a matter of fact I have always fancied Bankers and people in that sort of field. I might consider Public Finance for my second Masters degree.”

 

*Eye roll*. I now know he already has his first Masters degree without even asking! He glanced at the menu with a familiar casualness perhaps to indicate he is used to eating at such places, almost paying no attention to the prices section. It’s a Scottish restaurant in Kisumu, I was to have an interview with someone who ended up stuck elsewhere and this happy accident in the name of O’dek happened! He motioned the waiter and asked me to place my order first. He ordered for drinks as we awaited our food to be served; I do not remember the pronunciation of the wine’s name but all I know is that it’s the smoothest wine to pass my throat yet! A gentleman with refined taste;

 Charmant.

 

Let’s not kid ourselves ladies, when a man, any man for that approaches you, he has a clear plan; a plan to sleep with you. When a Luo man approaches you however, he has a detailed blueprint in which he reconnoiters through all that art has placed at his disposal to get you get you drooling, flat on your a*s and begging him to take you to ‘heaven’; a heaven whose directions only Luo men can maneuver! He was too good to be true; but Luo men are always like that- putting up a show is their lifestyle. The lunch entailed me getting unsolicited information about the law firm where he is a partner, his investments and an array of companies he had consulted for. At some point he got up to bring some documents he wanted to go through over lunch from his Subaru parked outside. He clearly stated that the car in which he had left his documents in was a Subaru but he preferred driving a Merc that was still at the garage! That’s the much nerve of bragging I had to put up with. I took the chance to Google his name and holy sh*t! Everything he had said about himself was true!

 

I picked his brains on a broad range of issues from CBK’s Eurobond and its potency to matters Baba. He had no ring on but I had a strong feeling he was a taken fella. A man this crisply polished cannot stay single in a city full of well endowed women like Kisumu. Surely he must have seen plenty of other women before me and one of them must have scored his heart if not his hot self! After the lunch he insisted on taking me back to school, something I vehemently objected to given that being seen alighting from a Subaru at school is the easiest way to joining the dreaded ‘divas’ list. He however insisted that I take a cab, that his future ‘ex- wife’ couldn’t ride a matatu! The charming nerve! Soon after i left I asked the cab driver to refund me three quarters of the fare and let me take a Mat back to school, what a wasteful culture these Luo men have! That guy is too good for me to step anywhere near him again. Anything good about a man always spells trouble. Counsel O’dek made it to my blocked calls list faster than it takes you to say plair! A ‘normal’ man ought to have flaws, many flaws. He should walk clumsily and wear a belt that mismatches his outfit. A ‘normal’ man should be ‘broke’! A ‘normal’ man should have a bit of a beer belly, not fiercely ripped abs! I mean, since when did Lawyers start caring about visiting a gym?! A ‘normal’ man should not generate a load of Google search results! Sorry counsel, you are a Luo, sorry, perfect man. I do not do perfect!

 

*Name changed for anonymity.

 

 

 

GOOGLE’S CHOICE: ‘ALTERNATIVE READERS’ AWARDS!

 

In the Arts business emotions rule; you have to elicit a reaction from your audience whether positive or negative- either way you will have succeeded as an artist. This week I received a surprise email from a reader in Netherlands! Never mind that the much I know about that country is the goddamned ICC, Van Persie and the stories I read about the red- light streets of Amsterdam. A quick check on my Google audience statistics reveals that my second biggest audience after Kenya is Netherlands followed by South Africa, Germany, USA and a host of other countries. As a Writer it’s very easy for one to remained wrapped in their own little world in the name of ‘writing for oneself’ forgetting that that your audience could be so diverse. I have no idea how people from outside Kenya are able to follow my blog as I always find myself writing in ways only local audiences are used to. The beauty of Literature however is that the audience still has the freedom to have their own interpretations.

 

Hallo Netherlands! Hoe gaat het met jouw? I received an email from a kind Dutch lady responding to an earlier post I did about enduring cramping and the African connection. She has never been to Africa but says she knows much about Kenya from the ICC and the famous ‘Safaris’ in the Maasai Mara and other game reserves in the country. She even wrote a few Swahili sentences albeit with broken grammar but it was all very refreshing! She wants me to write more about African women and our ‘daily struggles’, whatever that means. If you come down to Africa, the average young female leads a life more less the same as ladies in Amsterdam or any other European city. We are all going through stuff like education, careers, dating, family, motherhood etc. Our men are more adventurous though, if you know what I am talking about! Kenya is a beautiful country with warm and kind people. Visit us more and eat some delicious nyama choma and drink the totally smooth Kenyan beer, Tusker! The sandy beaches in Mombasa should sound like a plan too once winter sets in back there. Heel hartelijk bedankt! You take the honors in the premiere ‘Alternative Readers Awards’!

 

At second place is the rainbow nation, South Africa. Forget the abrasiveness Kenyans on Twitter displayed when there was tweefing between the two countries the other day, here you are loved wholeheartedly. Guys, I know my surname is popular among the Xhosa people of S. Africa; it is also found among the Luhya people of Kenya! I love the beautiful connection my own name creates between the two nations. Save for the clicking sounds, some Xhosa words sound similar to Luhya words; I will leave for Anthropologists to establish the source of these similarities. We all loved and adored the late Nelson Mandela and yeah, Dstv is a big deal here. Our capital city is Nairobi not Kigali and the current president is Uhuru not Museveni! There is Africa beyond South Africa guys, enough with the ignorance, visit the rest of us! Uh oh, before I forget, S. African comedian Trevor Noah is totally cute and funny! Shout outs to him!

 

Up next is Berlin, wie geht es ihnen? Thank you for gracing my humble blog with your readership too. Borusia Dortmund is my favorite team in the German Bundesliga and the Volkswagen my all time favorite vintage car. If I were to name the features on DW Tv that have left me in awe about German technology it would require a whole blog post! Mesut Ozil, apart from his football prowess has cute eyes too! I might just support Germany in the upcoming world cup courtesy of him. Visit Kenya and enjoy great holidays down here, tell friends to tell friends- Karibu Kenya!

 

We hate to love you guys- Kenya is a USA prototype of sorts. A good number of things back here, including our music and even the constitution are modeled on the lines of USA. We hate the Obama connection- it reminds us everyday how our own leaders make us look bad even in the eyes of our son, Obama. Tech giants like Google, MS etc dominate here and so is the whole Coca cola- Pepsi drama. Heck, there’s even Kentucky chicken being served all over Nairobi. Our athletes dominate all your major city races and you know what, those are chosen from the amateur team squads! Kenyans are as critical as you people and ummm… could you kindly remind Kenyans living there to drop the American twang once they land at JKIA? We totally hate it. We speak Swahili, native languages and Standard English thanks to British colonization; questions about whether we speak ‘African’ will not be entertained. Africa too is a continent, not a country; helooo? There is life beyond the USA, travel and see the beauty that is Africa. Talking of travelling, a certain American Facebook friend of mine once asked me if we play with Lions and Leopards in our backyards like you play with dogs. I forgive her. Thank you for reading my blog USA, objective criticism will be very much welcome to help me grow as a Writer!

 

Jambo Kenya!  I refuse to rank you guys- you are this blog and this blog is you! Special shout outs to my campus, Maseno University. I totally appreciate the curious stares I get from people on the streets and to those who walk up to me to express their views about what I write about, thank you a lot! To my friends like Abdi who reads almost each of my pieces and offers me invaluable counsels towards my writing, thank you! To people who I have never met but religiously read every single piece and encourage me on, I am lost for words. Thank you my loyal readers like Faith, Flo, Ambrose, Joe, Crispin, Karen, Chema and each every one of you who read in anonymity. Thank you. You are the spirit that keeps this small community alive!

 

To my best friends Njeri and Barbs who think I am a total Writing genius, thank you sweethearts. To my mom who is always in awe anytime she ‘accidentally’ reads my blogs when she borrows my laptop, thank you so much! All these brains and mastery of the Queen’s language is courtesy of the good genes you bestowed upon me! To my two brothers Nelson and Menelik who secretly say that their sister is a genius, asanteni sana. I love you big boys; to Menelik, how you manage to retrieve my hidden documents and mess them up is totally appreciated too!

 

I hope to keep writing and tell stories that will not only be entertaining but inspiring too. I would appreciate getting feedback from you guys especially when I do those totally ‘sh*t’ posts that are a pain to readers, I want to write not only for me but for you too! One world, one love, one blog! Thank you ‘Alternative Readers’ from whichever part of the world you may be in.

 

 

 

 

21 AND OVER? SINGLE? THIS IS FOR YOU

 

This article is for women who fit in the above- mentioned category. Ladies, welcome to the members club. Feel free to order for anything, bill on me. I am normally a teetotaler but for today I’ll be having a triple dry Martini. I suggest you do double tots and above too, this is not a story fit for the sober mind. This is a story we should all forget once we are sober and back to our lives, inspired by the Oprah Winfrey show. This is not a story ‘True Love’ will ever tell you. It is not a story ‘Eve Sisters’ will tell you. Nevertheless this is a story we all have to hear. All clear, I hope there is no man still around. Twende kazi:

 

Disclaimer: This article is in no way meant to suggest that all that women should do on earth is fight to escape singlehood. It is still the story of our lives though. I am assuming all the women participating in the quiz are straight and easy on the eye.

 

Quick questionnaire. All sections have to be filled clearly in capital letters, bold and underlined where necessary. Blanks will not be entertained.

 

1. When was the last time a total stranger hit on you, asked for your number and invited you out for a REAL DATE? (Please stay informed that ‘total stranger’ does not include men on social media, men you met in bars, married men, colleagues or schoolmates).

If it’s more than three months ago take your first shot within two seconds and feel free to say any cuss word. What a misogynistic world we live in!

 

1. Do you suddenly feel empowered to hit on men too? When was the last time you hit on a guy? (This includes conscious flirting, unnecessarily complementing him, offering to cook/ clean for him etc).
   If your response is positive, make your drink a triple and ask for lemon slices from the bartender.
    
2. Do you have a gang of girlfriends you hang out with regularly? Do you have ‘ladies night/day out’ where you spend time trashing your ex’s and men in general?
   If you answered in the affirmative, you should get a front row seat as the session proceeds. Feel free to start drinking your Vodka straight from the bottle.
    
3. Do you suddenly feel empowered to have several random flings purely for sex? Are you warming up to the idea of ‘friends with benefits’? Do you objectify men?
   If yes please move to the counter.
    
4. When was the last time you got a freebie from a man out of pure kindness? I am talking free drinks at the club, unsolicited airtime/cash, offer to pay bus fare etc?
   If you find yourself creasing your forehead to answer this question please proceed swiftly to the next question.
    
5. How busy is your phone apart from work- related matters? (Please let’s kindly keep juvenile things like WhatsApp/FB/Twitter notifications out of this). Does your phone only get busy during weekends as team mafisi look for random women to kill the cold with? Do the supposed men who hit on you only call and text during weekends or holidays?
   Positive? Drink on sister, drink on.
    
6. How is your dress sense now compared to say, 3 years ago if below 25 and at least 7 years ago if above 25? Would you describe your fashion sense as bold? Are you daringly showing more skin now?
   Showing more skin? You should be crawling back to your seat.
    
7. How many concerts have you attended so far with the sole purpose of getting a possible boyfriend? Do you hang out more solely to get hit on by men?
   Your fears affirmed? Your leg should be resting on a crate of cold Whiskey by now.
    
8. Are you quick to read/watch/listen to material that purports to be ‘relationship advice’? Wait, how quickly did you click on this link?!
   If you are a ‘relationship advice’ junkie, you are in a good position for the honors today, proceed on.
    
9.  Do you get critical anytime you are invited for a wedding? Do you find yourself making divorce- related or any negative statements about the newly- weds at weddings?
    
   Yes? Silly, marriage was ordained by God not you.
    
10.  Do you ‘hate’ love? Do you make statements to the effect that love is an illusion/ non- existent etc? Do you say things like ‘love is a decision, not a feeling’ etc?
    Do you honey? This is bad news.
     
11.  Do you hate getting invited to baby showers? Do you think it is becoming a tad too common and is ‘interfering’ with your schedule? Do you find yourself asking when you’ll have your own baby too when shopping for diapers, formula etc for your friends/ relatives with babies?
    Who hates on babies? Stupid.
     
12.  Are you currently dating a married man? Have you dated one before or are entertaining thoughts of becoming a mistress?
    Yes? We are setting the dogs on you. Marriage wrecker.
     
     
    I won’t say too much sh*t seeing as my own head is heavy already. Honey, if you positively id with two or more of the above situations, you are what Cosmo calls ‘an actively searching female’. But that’s Cosmo and that is the language they use to keep you buying their magazine year in year out. What you are is a desperate female searching for a husband. The good news is that it has nothing to do with you, blame it on a generation of men that fear the commitment word. Stop all this madness, life is for living; not for wasting looking for non- existent husbands! Enjoy while it lasts.

I REFUSE TO BE AN ‘AFRICAN WOMAN’

 

I have failed the generation that is African women, terribly so. As I write this I have just recovered from an episode of intense menstrual cramping that had almost claimed my sanity. Earlier during the day some of my friends came visiting and the subject of discussion was…Childbirth! As everyone got talking about the best way to bring forth new life I found myself in familiar territory- holding a contradicting opinion that made me the black sheep of the conversation. After what I just underwent for three hours or so this evening, I feel vindicated to have been of the opinion that Caesarian Section is the best way to go about things. I refuse to be an African woman regarding the issue of reproductive processes. I know anything natural is always the best choice but if it involves pain, I’ve gotta give it a second, third and even fourth thought.

 

Back to cramping; after being criticized by my friends for being a weakling who always wants the easy ways out, I started thinking seriously about my ‘Africanness’ and how I could begin expressing it. As if the gods had their ears on the ground waiting to help a sister in her quest to be a true African woman, my ‘days of the month’ decided to show up today, how appropriate! This is a God sent opportunity! I thought to myself as I braced myself for five days or so of giving painkillers a wide berth and enduring the pain like a proper African woman. This was going to be a good starting point if I was to embrace the idea of labor pains and natural birth in the near future. I was excited; it felt like I was a confident soldier going to war for the first time and with the surety of a victory in the battle.

 

I was tempted to go to the Chemist and get some painkillers ‘just in case’, I mean; the late Maya Angelou said a proper woman should always be armed to the tooth for anything, right? I decided to pass the idea and headed back to my house. My sixth sense told me it was a bad idea given the intensity of pain that was awaiting me but with the hindsight of how proud my friends had been as they described their ‘African woman moment’ of braving pain during such times, I decided to soldier on. There is always a first time, I told myself as I filled several bottles with hot water to join the brigade of African women fighting pain ‘the natural way’. I even busied myself with physical exercise as I had been advised and did a random walk around school to avert any cramping on the way.

 

The first pang of pain cut right across my tummy like a sharp object. I lay on my back and got onto the first remedy- think less about the pain and divert your thoughts to something more interesting, like someone you love. I started thinking about a certain guy, a certain guy in my Fb inbox with really cute eyes. It made me feel better for a while. Only for a short while; before I knew it the cramping was fast spreading from my tummy to my thighs. Heh! That was just it. I took two hot water bottles and quickly placed them on my tummy and thighs. Bad idea, the heat from the water was making the pain even more intense. My back too had joined forces now and I just couldn’t stand the pain. Did I mention nausea and a bad headache? I tried doing a self massage but that didn’t make things any better. Lying in bed felt like relaxing in the middle of a bonfire, the pain seemed to increase with any slight movement I made.

 

I saw death, no; I was dead for a moment. I swear I became numb for some seconds and feared I had joined my ancestors right in the middle of my bold quest to become an ‘African woman’. When I regained consciousness being an ‘African woman’ was the last thing on my mind. I asked my housemate to go collect any kind of painkillers she could get from our neighbors. She came back with a cocktail of drugs, some of which I have never seen or heard of. I was like a druggie who had been off their thing and their system was threatening to explode if they didn’t do a re- boot at the earliest opportunity. I quickly grabbed two yellow capsules I’ve never seen and two Paracetamols and gobbled them down with lots of water before jumping into my bed and covered completely. Whatever happens let it happen as long as it is not the pain I am currently experiencing.

 

I woke up two hours later covered in sweat but with a surprisingly relived body and a light head. I wanted to write immediately! My housemate offered me supper, it was around midnight. I said no, the inspiration bug had bit me and this is not a moment any Writer wants to pass. I rarely get inspired by failure but here I was all flared up after my poor show in braving pain like my fellow African women. It’s currently raining outside even as I write this. I feel like going outside to dance in the rain and tell my African forefathers that I have failed. The bar was placed too high for me. I want that bar lowered or my name be forever struck out of the book of ‘African women’ if the tenets are going to be voluntary endurance of physical pain.

 

I am thinking about labor pains now. If I could not stand a few hours of cramping pain how will I even face the pangs of childbearing? Will my husband see me as a complete failure if I fail to endure pain for the sake of his children? No, will I feel like a complete failure if I do not endure pain while bringing forth our children? Does it make me any less of an African woman that I am so afraid of physical pain? Isn’t there any other measure of being a ‘true African woman’ apart from endurance of pain? Why must our strength always be inspired by pain? Isn’t it time we all rested from the idiocy that is putting ourselves through physical pain in order to express our womanhood? I am strong but I refuse deliberate pain. To my future husband: my strength is not sufficient to see me through a labor ward but if you promise to stick by my side to the very last minute, I might just pass Caesarian section and go through those six hours or so of pain to bring forth our child. What I mean is- if you volunteer to be the recipient of my out of love kicks and blows as I go through labor pain, yes honey, natural will do it for me! Meanwhile I will be at the Chemist first thing in the morning to get my monthly dose of painkillers; I have refused to be an African woman!

 

 

WHEN YOUR GIRLFRIEND BECOMES A FEMINIST

I’ll preface this article by stating that my longest relationship finally went on its knees and I have a sure feeling it has something to do with my opinionated Feminist self. I avowedly ID myself as a Feminist and strongly believe that gender egalitarianism is an ideology every human being should push for. While this article is purely anecdotal to my own experiences as ‘tween’ feminist in the dating circles, it does somehow shed light on what is is like to be in a relationship with a feminist and what we tween feminists are all about.

Those who have read a few books know that Feminism is a multi- faceted ideology especially on the African continent with all the conflicting cultural settings. It basically calls for the equal treatment of all human beings. I’ll not state which school of feminism ideology I subscribe to but it is something Mr. Boyfriend wants me to erase from my mind if our relationship is to continue. At the beginning he was really excited about my well thought out intellectual opinions on just about everything and my secure personality. It earned me some brownie points: he always insisted I tag along whenever his boys were around and of course they were all impressed that a 20- year old could sustain their kind of talk. It seems he liked it just that way- pointing out his trophy kick- ass girlfriend from a safe distance; when the kicking was directed to his a** though, hell broke loose.

Are we that stubborn?

I just like to believe we were all given brains so that we could think on our own. The most independent aspect of me has to be my thought process. It therefore comes naturally that my opinion be considered in any decision we make as a couple. No one understands better how frustrating ‘consultation’ can get like our old man Mwai Kibaki. I overruled any decisions made without prior consultations and this simply meant one thing: we could never really move forward. I am all for respect and compromise being both- ways. Somehow Kenyan men are socialized to make decisions without consulting the women in their lives, something I find rather unsettling. I refuse to be used as a mere prop in a relationship. Oh, it’s not only in romantic relationships where I think my thoughts are valid, just ask my friends who always wins arguments. Mr., I know it bruises your ego every time I ask to give an opinion on every decision you make but hey, am from the Feminist Faculty! Even the good book says that ‘two heads are better than one.”

Admissions currently ongoing!

Miss ‘know it all’

Some people are of the idea that Feminists are generally smart women. Well, seemingly smart women like Margaret Thatcher did not subscribe to the Feminist ideology. I think feminism and one’s level of education are independent things and the fact that most feminists sound smart is purely coincidental or due to the fact that many generally like to read. I have always stood up for my own and strongly believed in the cause even before I had a full grasp of what life is all about. I consider myself a widely read person and chances are I have an opinion on just about everything. News time was some kind of hell for him as I was always armed with opinions about the headlines. He didn’t like how seamlessly I transitioned from a debate on the Finance Bill to matters football. Am not the type that’s eager to rub my opinions on people’s faces, it’s not even part of the feminist ideology! I only strongly believe people should independently analyze situations to make & defend their own views. Trying to dismiss my opinions as ‘feminist- driven’ is not only sexist but misplaced too!

Oh yes, feminists can cook

One of the reservations my ex had about my beliefs is whether they prevented me from stepping in the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised to know that I had no qualms about hitting the kitchen but there was a catch: it was never to be obligatory. Am not the type of woman who feels like they’re in heaven while in a kitchen and I won’t even try to justify that. On those days I felt beat, I would slump on the sofa with full expectation that he would hit the kitchen too. Its common sense, I cannot possibly slave myself when am already tired. Unlike people who aren’t feminists who believe in slaving for their men at all costs, I believe responsibilities should be shared accordingly. I do not advocate for female chauvinism but I think men should be responsible adults too capable of doing for themselves things like laundry and cooking instead of merely depending on women to do it for them.

Bring it on!

Ambition is priceless

There is more to life than men, there has to be. My life does not rotate around men or the idea of ultimately nailing a man. Am quite content with pursuing other areas of interest in my life with equal if not more zeal. He just didn’t get what the fuss was all about. I was chasing opportunities all over, reading all manner of books and my list of to- achieve things kept growing longer. One day I was all about writing a blog and when that was done I wanted to write for a local paper and when that was achieved too I mentioned something about wanting to research and write a policy brief on the prevention of gender- based violence and sexual crimes in local campuses. He thought I had truly gone mad! “Who are you to do such a complicated thing?” He posed on the night I mentioned to him my latest dreams. I didn’t feel crushed but it hurt that he thought my ambitions were next to crazy. Am well aware of the fact that am still a broke college girl who should be working on her transcripts but hey, as someone once sang, "ambition is priceless". Feminism has taught me to dream beyond the limits set by gender stereotypes and that sort of thing and that is exactly what I do, with or without the blessings of my boyfriend.

Women are not born, they’re made

One of my best feminist authors has to be Simone de Beauvoir, she’s a French Feminist known for authoring books like  The Second Sex and other material that greatly contributed to the feminist philosophy. Controversial as her personal life may have been, her contribution to the feminist cause cannot be ignored. The notion that nature intended certain roles for specific genders is preposterous to those of us who subscribe to her school of thought. “It takes the effort of someone to make another person the other”, women are ‘the other’. This perhaps best describes my decision to become a feminist. With that in mind, do not expect me to be the conventional girlfriend. I have a clear description of who I am and what I want in life and in the relationship, some of which may border on rebellion. I simply refuse to fit in the traditional description of a woman- submissive and passive, stupid even. That idea was created by someone and it could as well be uncreated by me of course. Anytime you wonder why I, your loving feminist girlfriend do not fit in traditional female roles, scroll up here.

Simone de Beauvoir

Surprise, surprise! We aren’t going Dutch!

Yeah I know, feminism and independence are supposed to be Siamese twins joined right at the hip. Then there’s the dogma that Feminists are rich, influential, Caroline Mutoko- like women who buy islands for their partners to prove they’re feminists. There existed nothing like splitting bills or me picking up the tab to prove that am a feminist while dating my ex. Double standard, right? I never really expect a guy to pick up the tab but I totally appreciate him doing so! Am strictly speaking for myself here and there is a valid reason: my college budget just couldn’t allow me to pay dinner bills at the kind of restaurants he used to take me to but if we were doing chapo madondo at Mama Ciku’s, I would gladly flex my feminist muscle and pick the tab! There was no way of getting his uptown stomach to eat at Mama Ciku’s and there goes the story of us missing the Dutch flight.

There were positives though; I do not dig the whole Valentine’s and anniversary gifts drama and so he got to breathe easy on such days. One thing is sure, am working my a** off every day to provide for my own needs, nothing breeds resentment from a man faster than financial dependence on him.

Feminists are not bitter/ angry/ victims/ man- haters

Most people hold the asinine thought that feminists are be bitter, bra- burning women with a bad history with men. Ours is just an ideology backed by several books we have read and our own personal contributions to the cause. We appreciate humanity and are the few bold women willing to be assertive for what we believe to be the right cause in a world full of misogynists. We do not fear housework either! Speaking for myself again, I became a feminist long before I started dating and my experiences with men if any do not inform my stance.Oh, feminists do not hate men either! There does exist male feminists as well and most have been vocal about their support for the cause too. We have passion for the cause because we believe in its potential to better human lives.

Some people just get it wrong!

 

Feminists make interesting lovers!

I know my good friend Nyoiro would dismiss this thought as akin to saying that bees make interesting house guests! For real people, think of a girlfriend without the usual drama that some women have. No nagging- we believe you are mature enough to get things once. No whining about our body sizes and things like that- we are confident and secure people. We are totally intelligent- conversations will be way more interesting. We have no inhibitions when it comes to trying out new things and taking risks. We have other interests- this means we have a life apart from the relationship and we won’t spend all our time bothering you with questions of your whereabouts! Above all we are not scared of being single so clinging involved.

Everyone needs Feminism!

With all these positive aspects of Feministic women, you may wonder, why did my relationship end? Well, I mentioned something to him about not being keen on dropping my maiden name upon marriage and my intention to give all of my progeny my surname. He thought I was kidding and rebuffed it with a sexist joke. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how the cookie crumbled. My children will bear the name Lumadi and that’s not debatable!

FRIENDS WITH ‘BENEFITS’: WHO REALLY BENEFITS?

Sex is no doubt a major factor in most young people’s relationships today. An interesting trend that is however shaping relationships or acquaintanceships on campus today is the ‘friends with benefits’ or f.w.b factor. This is supposedly a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement where the parties involved are only available for each other sexually; no emotions or getting all mushy and lovey dovey. Just plastic, lusty sex and the deal is done, till next time. No texting or calling to complement each other afterwards or anything that borders on commitment. To them, love is considered an illusion for the weak and the naïve. This mostly happens between people who are already friends and yeah, ex lovers. For ex’s however, I believe there is the whole point of sex for closure and finally learning to let go, anything past that then qualifies to be f.w.b.

While randomly chatting in a friend’s room, one of her roommates revealed that she was still a virgin. We asked for her views on the ‘f.w.b’ subject and to say that she reeled back in horror will be an understatement. To her sex is a sacred act only to be shared with those who are truly loved under the cover of marriage, how refreshing! You should have seen the envy on many people’s faces as she went ahead to narrate the ‘I-will-be-broken-my-virginity-on-our-wedding-night-in-Bahamas’ fantasy that we all once had at some point! So it is not everyone who shares in the random sex idea on campus, very encouraging news indeed. My major concern however, is those who believe in it and have at some point been or currently are parties to this arrangement as well as those planning to enter into it. To the ladies mostly, are you really benefiting or are merely lying to yourself with the hope that something will grow out of the arrangement? Think hard about it.

Women are extremely emotional people; we attach meaning to everything that happens, up to and including sex. So how does it work for women in these arrangements? I refuse to believe that there are normal women who would have plastic sex and walk out without any tiny string attached, forget the girls on the streets, that is a different ballgame altogether. If you keep sleeping with the same guy for some period of time, chances are that there is this one characteristic about them that you will like and find difficult to forget. Like you love how he strokes his chest while talking and find it extremely attractive! Or you like the way he walks. Piece these little details together and you will find yourself in a catch-22 situation where you have fallen for your ‘f.w.b’ who does not share those feelings. How will you handle that?

 I was also made to understand that the men in these ‘f.w.b’ arrangements are not big on matters foreplay, how crude! One thing that was synonymous among us as we talked about the subject is that foreplay is a major factor to all women. Fine, we may like the idea that you are lusting after us but then there is this bonding that comes with kissing and the whole foreplay thing that all women need. We have to feel secure with you first before letting you have a taste of the kingdom! So when a woman is in an arrangement where the ‘idiot’(allow me to use the term) comes and jumps on top of her and in three minutes they are done and are off, it is obvious that things are not right for her. There is also this ‘awkward’ moment that comes after you are done; it is during this moment that men should tell their women ‘sweet nothings’ to jerk them back to their senses and make them feel valued. Without this I do not know how one then musters the courage to do the ‘walk of shame’ from Kilimanjaro to Mak Box without feeling like a rug along the way!

So how exactly does one react when they are introduced to the guy’s other f.w.b’s? Do you protect your f.w.b territory as well? Do you ask them how he is with them? There is always this instinctive feeling in all women to mark their territories. For control freaks like me, put a man in my life and I will be dying to make my presence felt from what he wears to how much he weighs! That is how I mark my territory but then here is a situation where there is a whole man in your life whom you cannot influence even just a little? A woman has to have a bit of control and influence on the man in their life; it is just being a woman. I cannot imagine myself in a situation where I have to persevere being pivoted by a guy’s potbelly just because our f.w.b arrangement does not give me the power to ask him to lose weight! I would have to device a way to make you do it, like making you fall in love! Haha!

Here then comes the big question; is it possible for a f.w.b arrangement to premise in a relationship? At what point do the two of you finally decide to stop saying “f**k love” and embrace this warm and soft feeling of being in love? Or tragically, what happens should one of the parties in the f.w.b arrangement fall in love with another person? Do you just accept and move on or what exactly is the protocol for handling such a mess? How do you learn to start caring for a person who sometime back was just a sex object to you? I hear it is possible for men to sleep with women they hate, me thinks women who manage to do f.w.b also secretly hate this men! That would be the only way to pull off a ‘no strings attached’ relationship successfully without having to fall for the guy.

I do not mean to be mean to the guys but in as much as many of these illicit affairs always seem to be working to your advantage, do not celebrate just yet. When you are done being generous with your D and overworking it(I hear you are big on Viagra too!) with all these women and finally get married, here is to you suffering from a serious case of Erectile Dysfunction and failing to satisfy the most important woman in your life then! Here’s to her cheating on you with that guy you despise now because he is not as Macho as you are! Here’s to the juicy stories I will be hearing in the chama about so and so whose Johny is ‘dead’! Here’s to the ladies, finally! I will not even feel sorry for you because am sure I will not be the woman to deal with your woes then, you see, my kind of man is too  busy working on how to take care of me and our children in future, not fu***ng aimlessly like some crazy goat! And hopefully, it won’t be my optimistic vajo friend to deal with your ‘dead’ D in Bahamas either! Still thinking of keeping 10 friends with ‘benefits’? Cheers! Here’s to you!

9 MEMORABLE CAMPUS FIRSTS

1.    FIRST NIGHT OUT

First weekend in campus, you have lots of cash from parents, siblings, student loan and what have you. There is a general smell of freedom in the air and everyone is excited about the weekend. You are caught in this hype and off you go out of campus to experience your first night out without having to watch your back for hawk- eyed parents. You do not want to look like a greenhorn so you drink as much as is available and get your first lap dance from some hooker. Nothing good ever comes from this first night. Club brawls on this night leave students seriously injured while for others this is where the angel of death picks them from.

For freshmen, if you are going to have your first experience with alcohol, do not even think of doing binge drinking. Vodkas and any kind of cocktails are a no no. Grab a beer instead and pretend you have a thing for ‘mature’ drinks.

2.    FIRST CAMPUS BASH

Hot on the heels of the first night out is the freshman party that is held in most campuses ostensibly to welcome freshmen to campus. This night campus mafisis hit jackpots while many naïve freshman ladies get the infamous ‘baptism by fire’. That K.U banned this bash should tell the magnitude of damage this event causes. Everything from unprotected sex to outright rape happens on this night. For those who do not meet any misfortune however this night remains a memorable event, from the dancing to good music, they leave full of praises for the campus partying culture.

3.    FIRST CAMPUS CRUSH

You came, you saw, you fell in love bla bla bla… We all know how this kind of story normally turns out. The feeling of being in a sea of members of the opposite sex for the first time and falling for a certain fish however is memorable. The romantic walks around campus with hands held, booking for each other seats in lecture halls, wearing matching clothes (nkt!), sleepovers etc, oh the feeling of innocent love! Both of you swear you are inseparable and fill fb and twitter with childish romantic conversations and pictures. We all know this kind of lovebirds and love to hate on them, right? Well, I wonder why no one still holds hand while in 4^th year.

4.    FIRST ‘BEE STING’

A few weeks ago I came under fire from one of my friends for writing a ‘self- righteous’ piece that apparently hoisted me to the rank of the likes of Angel Gabriel. I will therefore tone down and make a small confession. My fb profile picture at around the time I was joining campus read: ‘Am proud to be a virgin’. Am not laughing so don’t either. I was sure my first ‘bee sting’ would be on some romantic island in the Bahamas- cool sea breeze, floating candles and all. No one bothered to tell me that I would experience the kind of love that would get me ‘giving in ways I would have never imagined to give myself’ before I enter marriage.

For those of us who got that really painful ‘bee sting’ while in campus, let’s all hang our heads in shame. You are lucky if it wasn’t on some small, squeaky hostel bed with a janitor to watch out for. This night is not to be remembered ladies, right? Let me move on to something else.

5.    FIRST HEARTBREAK

For purposes of this piece, bad is the new memorable. Hell hath no fury like a campus heart broken! The drama that follows first heartbreaks is always welcome comic relief especially for the known campus lovebirds that are on everyone’s radar. Sides are taken and the battle line drawn.  On such days you can be sure to get enough entertainment from the two on fb as they publicly air each other’s dirty linen so be sure to purchase enough mb’s!

 If given a chance am sure most of us would handle that first heartbreak the same way or even add a bit of salt and pepper in to it! The adrenaline rush as you exchange expletives at his place and the subsequent drama that characterizes campus break- ups is something to be remembered. Good thing is that everyone else is handling their heartbreaks that way too so there is no condemnation.

Bad for you if it comes during fourth year after wasting a whole four years you could have used to meet lots of other potential suitors on campus not to mention there is no time for drama at this stage!

6.    FIRST LAW ENCOUNTER

Did I frame that right? Ok, your first encounter with the law, precisely the first time behind coolers. Somehow campus life is ridden with many not so good experiences. You go out on a fine weekend to have fun with your friends and the next thing you know is that you’re nursing a nasty hangover at the government guest house with your friends. This is the time you will know who you true friends are seeing as you will have to part with a fine or be thrown behind bars for being ‘drunk and disorderly’ or violating Mututho laws.

Parents are the last people who should ever know about this turn of events. In fact they are never to know and so should the school administration lest they stumble upon your parents contacts and inform them about your jailbird status. The police are not your best friends while on campus; if not at the club they’ll still nab you during a campus riot.

7.    FIRST ‘JANITOR DATE’

There’s always someone watching, if not the police then it’s the snoopy janitor. Some of us have a small problem following rules so the trips to the janitor’s office are endless. From playing loud music, violating the ’10- 10’ rule, cooking in non- designated hostels you name it. We simply cannot enough of the janitor’s wrath.

The first encounter is hair -raising though, the tough talking janitor makes it clear that he’s going to book you on the disciplinary committee and you are reduced to begging for forgiveness before you finally part with a tidy sum for a bribe. Phew! You’ve got to give it up to janitors for knowing how to scare the hell out of naive freshmen.

8.    FIRST TRANSCRIPT

We came to campus primarily to study, right? After you have done all sorts of things to experiment your new- found freedom, the first transcript comes calling. Depending on the nature and extent of your experiments, this transcript is either a wake- up call or an affirmation that indeed you are in campus by merit. You soon realize a ‘D’ is not as good- sounding on your transcript as it is in a bedroom!

You aren’t beyond redemption after first year though, in most campuses first year marks do not count. Get better friends, visit the library more and kick out habits like over- drinking, heavy partying and you will be back on track. Wouldn’t campus be more fun though if someone abolished exams and the likes?

9.    FASHION FIRSTS

Admit it; you were not as fashion forward as you are now when you first joined campus. I know of people who first wore skinny jeans at school and keep them under lock when they go back home. What happened to the nice flowing skirts and dresses that people came wearing in first year? The weave fetish that ladies discover once they do a semester at school? For the gents, those mushaino pastor suits that you used to put on with sports shoes or that same shirt you wore the entire semester? Growth is a necessary thing though; feel good about your new- found sense of fashion. Should we talk about fashion firsts gone wrong on campus? No, let’s spare people that thrashing for today.