Phone rings. *Click!*
Jade: So, are you going to tell me who it was or do I have to figure it out?
Charles: Huh? Who? What are you talking about?
Jade: Oh come on Charles. I’m a woman. I know there was someone at your place before I got there today. I couldn’t miss that Liz Arden.
Silence… Loud yet eerie silence.
Charles: So nothing, Jade.
Jade: Oh wow. I can’t believe you’re actually going to make me push you for this.
Charles: Don’t push me Jade. It’s nothing.
Jade: Same way you and Kemi were ‘nothing’ back then.
Jade: Come on Charles. I’ve been your best friend for well over ten years. I guess I know you more than you think I do.
Charles: What do you know about Kemi and I?
Jade: That really doesn’t matter now. I’m just worried about you and this decision to get married. I know how much pressure your parents failed marriage has put on you but please, please, please don’t bottle this in. You asked us to help you so let us REALLY help.
Charles: And you guys have been wonderful.
Jade: Well, if you say so. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later then.
Charles: Alright. Bye.
I walked into the room painted all white and the blandness immediately got to me. “So much for an office,” I turned and said to Darlene.
“Oh please shut up jo. This is still a hospital, remember? Mr. Creative Director.” We both laughed and then sat down beside each other on a set of beige twin sofas mechanically arranged in a corner of the office.
“Charles Charles. The one and only Cha-cha. Wow. It is so good to see you again. Gosh, I’ve actually missed you…”
“Hey, that’s totally your fault. You’re the one who chose to go to nursing school to learn to save everyone else’s life but mine.” I chastised.
“I followed my dream Charles. That’s one thing I’m happy to say I learnt from you.” Darlene looked into space, memories flooding her mind. Her blue eyes still caused my skin to tingle. Born a half-caste, but it seemed the European blood in her totally over-shadowed the Nigerian bit. “So how is everyone: your mom, your sister?” Darlene brought me back to the present.
“Well, everyone is good. Thank God my sister ‘dreamt another dream’ and changed her mind about going down the nursing line like you…” I was being self-righteous on purpose. No reason. Just me being the occasional douche.
“And what do you mean by that? I’m sure you bullied the poor girl. Someday you’ll publicly accept and perhaps come to terms with the fact that your fear of injections is what drives your seeming dislike for medical practitioners.” Darlene always teased me about that.
“Oh my, you know, sometimes I really wish you hadn’t given me that injection,” I replied. “How can you say that. How then would I have felt that your ridiculously soft behind and subsequently fallen for you?”
“Oh, so NOW, you admit it was my ass that got you!” We both laughed together. “And how about your other sisters?” Darlene questioned.
“What other sisters?”
“Oh come off it. Kemi and Jade. Is Jade still in love with you?” Her words cut right through me. Darlene had always alluded to this but this was the first time she had said it to my face. “Why are you all quiet like you never knew. Well, knowing you, I’m sure you did and I do hope y’all did or are doing something about it.” It was obvious Darlene was ready to be completely expressive about the subject. Too many people had accused Jade and I. How ironic.
“Did you get Charles’ email?” Kemi asked.
“No, what email?” Jade said.
“He said he was trying to call you but the network was acting up. He had to rush to Abuja today.”
“Abuja eh? Hmm.. and I heard from the grapevine that Chioma might just be in Abuja.”
“Oh is that so?.. Anyways, he won’t be meeting us but he sent me his Darlene review and asked us to pick the next victim.”
“Wait, let me guess.. it’s probably a no and it had to do with the way she smells?” Jade’s sarcasm made Kemi wail with laughter. Once her mirth-high had receded:
“You know your friend too well. Let me read you his words: ‘You know I have mad love for that girl. She’s awesome. It’s just that I hate hospitals and I can’t have one living with me.’”
“Yup. That’s Cha-cha alright…” Jade spat,
“…the man we’ve come to accept and love the way he is.” Kemi finished. Jade’s countenance at once became grim as she inquired: “Kemi, are you in a tell-all mood? I need to ask you something…” Kemi cocked her head to one side as she mulled over what Jade could possibly want to know. “Sure. Wasap?” “I just want to know what happened with you and Charles that night… the night before your wedding…”
“Oh dear.” Kemi exhaled. She lowered her eyes the mood became grim instantly.
“Don’t ask me how I knew,” Jade continued, “Charles didn’t tell me either. I just want to hear it from you.”
Kemi wore a how-do-I-tackle-this-without-coming-off-as-the-devil smile before offering: “I really don’t know… It was that his stupid charming, affable nature. The charming bastard got to me, Jade. As you know, Charles more or less got me interested in the Captain and for almost 9 months, I didn’t see any other person. That’s so unlike me.” She raised her eyes to meet Jade’s before resuming:
“And then he proposed. I was scared. I didn’t know if I could stay committed in a marriage for so long. I had always flirted with Charles. From the day we met. I had a crush on him for so long and then we just connected and became friends. He was the only one who could understand my confusion. I went to him that night so we could talk. So I could let out my fears.” She paused, trying to gauge what effect her words would have.
“How do they say it? One thing led to another…” Kemi exhaled again “…and we were kissing furiously…” Kemi stopped as the memories seemed a bit too much to talk more of. But Jade, slightly crestfallen already, wanted to hear it all.
“Then what happened?”
“Oh nothing much after. Charles is decent after all. He couldn’t go through with it. I cried that night and he held me. I found the answers to my question and I think it’s time you also found yours, Jade.”
Jade had welled up with emotion now. Part relief, part uncertainty. But Kemi was now certain. Defiant even.
“In fact,” Kemi said, “I think I know what to do.”
Hey everyone. Voting continues at the Nigerian blog Awards. Please show some love to us and all your other favorite blogs by voting here. That’s that. Now, it’s going to be a short one today. Why? Well, cause I’ve only come here to ask a question. Initially, I wanted to structure this as another exam but the question is kind of cheap and also, I think it will be absolutely impossible to come up with a marking script for your answers so I changed my mind.
I bet now you’re really curious. So, I got into an argument, well, more like a conversation a few weeks back (typical me) about what could possibly be ‘the hardest question ever‘, well, sort of. After an hour of back and forth, we came up with a question, which, well, I’m not exactly sure is the hardest question ever but being the music lover that I am, I took instant interest in it and decided to share with you guys.
Now, here’s the original question: What is the greatest love song ever done? (pauses for effect). Yeah. I thought as much. Let’s not even get into all the reasons why it’s almost impossible to find an answer to that question. And the term ‘Love Song’…sheesh.. just sounds so cheesy. Anyway, for a second there, I’m sure you mentally ran through God knows how many songs. So you see why developing a marking script would have been totally impossible? So, what I’ve decided to do is narrow things down and see if it’ll help. So here’s my question. “If you could choose one ‘love song’ done between 1990 and today, which in your opinion ‘perfectly’ captures the term ‘love song’, which would it be?”
Long right? What I’ve tried to do is narrow this down ‘our generation’. Now, to properly answer this, you’ll probably need a few minutes to think up your answer. Also, I know a lot of the guys are about to switch off to the background and just read up other peoples comments but I’ll ask you this. Have you ever listened to Elton John sing ‘Your Song’… The Beatles – Something, Stevie Wonder – As, Whitney Houston – I’ll always love you, Percy Sledge – When a man loves a woman.. Ok ok.. Let me come back to our focus years. Michael Buble – Everything, Jason Mraz – You and I both or perhaps tunes from the more common artistes, R.kelly, Usher, Jagged Edge, Sade, Beyonce e.t.c.
Have you heard some of these guys profess love on a tune and deep within you, gangster dude, barbie chic or whatever your personality, you just imagine having that one special person you could say those words to? I know a lot of factors go into this, from personality to musical preference yada yada.. All I’m trying to see is if we have a couple of titles mentioned way more than others in the comment thread.
So there you have it. It’s all about music, love and the cheese today. Use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
Hi everyone. It’s my turn to thank you guys for all the support you’ve shown us here. 5 nominations at the Nigerian Blog Awards, that’s just amazing. Use the link: here to vote and keep showing us your love. Thanks again. On to today’s post then. Enjoy.
I stretched my lips into a wide smile. There. Nobody’s was brighter.
Now, will you leave me alone?
But, of course not.
The hugs. The platitudes. The chatter.
Yakking. Babble. Prattle.
I clenched and un-clenched my fingers.
“Excuse me, please.” I said to the friends clustered around me that had been going on about nothing for the past few minutes.
I didn’t wait for a reply; just walked out of the crowded room with my head bowed. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
I walked to the kitchen. Raised voices greeted me. Rola and Segun were fighting again. I sighed and climbed the stairs.
Getting to Jon’s room, I walked in and locked the door softly behind me. I ignored his massive elegant bed and crumbled to the floor. My back against the smooth mahogany door.
The door was thick enough to muffle the sounds drifting up the stairs. I took off my expensive shoes and let out a long deep breath.
I picked at the hem of my navy blue dress and the reason for this gathering glinted back at me. My engagement ring.
I see my friends eye my 5’9″ frame in envy. I see my friends eye my 6’2″ fiancé with envy. I see them eye my 5-bedroom soon-to-be house. I see them eye my very successful PR job.
Heck, everybody wants to be me. Beautiful, successful, engaged at 25.
So, why am I scared? Why is this numbing fear gnawing at me?
All good things come to an end. Jon and I laugh at that song. What he doesn’t know is that deep down, I believe this..
My insecurities assail me at every corner. What if I’m not a good-enough wife? Mother? What if I die? Worse, if Jon dies? What if we fall out of love?
What if? Silly as it sounds, it has a deathly grip on me. Jumps on me at the oddest moments, taking away my breath. Leaving me wheezing.
Too good to be true. To last. Nothing can be perfect. Right? What will it be? It terrifies me that I can’t answer this.
A soft knock on the door made me sigh again. I’d been found.
“Babe? You in there?” Jon’s husky voice reached out to me. I loved it when he called me babe.
“Yes.” I didn’t move.
“You coming out? Your sisters are here.”
I said nothing. “I love you, Jon..”
Jon was quiet. “I love you too..” More silence. “Why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong, babe.. We’ll work it out together.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. I brushed it away roughly.
Where do I start from? What do I say? How do I tell him without him feeling somehow responsible? He doesn’t put pressure on me. And no, I don’t have low-self esteem.
I can imagine Dupe laughing it off; ‘What do YOU have to be insecure about?’
It’s just.. I’m too realistic, pragmatic to believe in this fairy tale.
“Just tired. I’m coming out.”
Most people might not admit it but the picture painted above captures a lot of lives out there. Many women (and men too) go about with suppressed emotions. Insecurity and perhaps depression hidden behind smiles. My question is this, do you think our culture/society encourage this? If not, what other factors can you think up. You know the drill, use the comment box and speak your mind. Ciao.
Hey People.. Let my start by giving a MASSIVE shout out to you guys. I just checked the Nominees for the Nigerian Blog Awards 2011 and we’ve been nominated in 5 categories. Wow. Im just so so overwhelmed and I’m also glad to see some of my favourite blogs got nominated too (s/o #TeamSawaleh).. It’s time to make the nominations count. You can start voting now using this link: here. Once again. Thank you guys.
I first met Chi when I was about ten. I think it was at my Grandmothers place and it was totally coincidental. My Granny’s next door neighbor was a showstopper. Her name was Anne (Can I ever forget). Anyways, it was my first time spending my holidays at Granny’s place and after playing outside for a bit, I started heading back in and that was when I saw them.. well, her. Anne was lifting two boxes and walking towards her apartment door. I must have stayed on that spot staring for ages. Then I came to my senses when this dude who I later found out was Chi, nudged me and told me what I needed to do. Without processing what he said, I ran towards Anne, half mumbling, I said “please let me help you with those”. Before getting her answer, I took the boxes from her and helped her take them into her apartment. For my efforts, I got a peck (on the cheek) and Anne called me a perfect gentleman. All thanks to Chi. We became inseparable from that moment.
Chi was just so good with the ladies. We met in the university. He had quite a few friends back then but I wasn’t immediately drawn to him cause I just thought he was a living gimmick who was also kinda weird. But I later found out he wasn’t from around here so I and my friends eventually accepted him and when he began rubbing off on my friends and I, that was when I knew he was special. He helped me learn so much more about women and in no time, striking the right chord with the ladies was so so easy.
Because of Chi, I learnt to cook. lol. Don’t be so quick to say thats a good thing oh.. because I totally did it to save my life. The crazy boy somehow got into my head and convinced me to always pay for (at least) the first three dates I went to with ladies. That might not sound so bad but back then, I had just left school, earning a ridiculous salary on my first job and I wasn’t the luckiest with the ladies so those first three dates came by pretty often. Solution was for me to learn how to cook and make sure dates 2 and 3 were at my place. Result was that my fortunes changed with the women and I discovered a talent I never knew I had. A talent that now earns me a mighty load of money. He will be missed.
I remember when I told Chi I was going to ask Jennifer to marry me. After his many congratulations, he added “You do know you have to be the first to change your Facebook relationship status”. If you didn’t know the kind of person he was, you’d wonder why on earth he thought of that at that particular point in time. But that was the Chi I grew up with. And you can imagine how much guilt I felt as I changed my Facebook status to “married” after I heard about his death.
I still can’t believe it. In fact, I know it’s not true because he always said it. Just like Jesus, he predicted his own death. He said a time would come when most people would be so mean and wouldn’t be able to process most of the things he had taught me especially about being a gentleman. When women would laugh at you for opening their doors or think you were ‘over-doing’ it by pulling up a chair for them at the dinner table. Yes, he said it. He said women would begin to think it is their prerogative to sleep on the dry side of the bed after sex. A lot of men would bullshit his teachings by applying them to only good-looking women. As social media advanced and his prophesies began to come to past, his depression began. We all thought he’d survive it. But…. Rest in peace my good friend. Chivalry.
Today I have a few questions. Firstly, do you think Chivalry is dead in these parts? Was it ever alive? If your answer to the first question is yes, then I’d like to know why you think so. If not, please share instances and maybe some experiences with us. or should I have started with the definition of Chivalry? Use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
Hey everyone. So, I asked the gods to pause the rains here in Lagos today so I could put up this not-so-wet-Friday post. Yeah, sorry to break your hearts. Today’s post was inspired by the sprinters in our comment community who always aim for the first spot. I needed a partner to get this done so I drafted in the hoohoo queen (shoot me) herself, @novacrossqueen. Enjoy.
I lost my virginity at 15, and I used to feel like an early ashawo until I met someone who lost theirs at the age of 8, and I was like well then, look what we have here….
Damn..virginity.. let me see.. can I remember.. ooh yeah, I do.. I think I was 13 back then and all my friends just couldn’t believe I said I was going to do and I just did it. Just like that.
Anyways, I had been dating this boy for a year and the day we decided to pop OUR cherries, he wanted to get flowers and candles and basically paint the whole room CHEESE! I refused. Reality 1 – 0 Disney Channel’s b/s.
Well.. there was this chic who was pretty much all over me back then. I mean, we were mates and she was cool so I thought, what the heck, lets do it. I let her pick the day but it was my place and she came with all them candles and flower and stuff but I was like hells nah.. that wasn’t how I saw Lex Steel do it.
As he put the condom on and I was thinking, omydays I’m still gonna get pregnant anyways, it’s gonna rip, I’m gonna get AIDS, oh Lord, my mother would find out and it just won’t fly…. then I asked him to wear a second condom… 😐
So we settled in and as I put on the condom, I was thinking, hope this stuff fits cause it felt like I got the super small size or something. As if that wasn’t enough drama, she then asked me to put on a second condom… like sheesh the thing we do…
He entered me slowly and cautiously, at first I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel, that was until I realized I really wasn’t feeling anything….this shit didn’t hurt….wait is this sex? Am I still a virgin? Come, what is going on here….my thoughts were whizzing everywhere…
I got down to business – finally and I just went in hard from the first second but I hadn’t even put my foot on the pedal and she was already racing away. I really wasn’t feeling anything… So much for sex.. But I guess it was the chic? I just wanted to get done with the whole virgin thing.
*breathe* “Are you ok, he asked”? I said I was….then he did one pump action…and then another, and I just lay there and took it…then it dawned on me….I could never make it in the porn industry, I wasn’t the sexy beast I thought I was….shit I couldn’t even feel my legs talk less of trying to move around and then everything else just rolled up into one quick moment and then we were done…I had taken his virginity and he had taken mine.
I remember asking her to breathe. Damn, she really looked like she was going to pass out. I eased in and began to ‘thrust’ and at that point, I just knew I could totally make it into the porn industry cause it felt like I had become a sexy beast but before I could try out some other moves, she interrupted and said “I think I’m …coming”. So lame.. I just had to play along and pretend I was done. And just like that I took her virginity and lost mine too.
And the world was still spinning on its axis as it had before, I still looked the same in the mirror…. I dunno if it was the extra plastic he had on or the fact that he was a virgin but I couldn’t help but think….So kini big deal?
So things pretty much changed after that. No more virgin stigma, I looked in the mirror and I was a different person. The whole double condom thing and the inexperienced chic didn’t make it all that but I made sure I took it out on the next.
There you go. Two people giving accounts of their first time. I know y’all are usually tongue-tied on Fridays giving mostly ‘single word’ comments but I hope we can really read some funny and maybe not so funny first time stories today. You know the drill, use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
Sophia: Born as the 5th child in a family of 3 boys and 3 girls. A university graduate. Born and bred in one of Nigeria’s big cities.
Jerome: Nigerian Father and Spanish mother. Lost his mother at the age of 15, His only blood sister resides in Europe and he has not seen her in over 8 years. Jerome stopped speaking to his dad 2 years ago.
I can’t really remember how we met but I do know it was within the first weeks of our lives as university undergraduates. He said to me his first impression of me was that I looked like someone who couldn’t wait to join a cult. Jerome was easily any girl’s eye candy. He was 6ft 5’, with a shaggy hair and lean body frame. For the next 6 years, Jerome became my roommate and eventually my best friend. Most of my good and bad university memories have Jerome in them.
Sophia was a jambite like us when Jerome met her. A wheelbarrow by itself is useless. You have to push it for it to become useful. My friend Jerome, was a wheelbarrow and Sophia was his pusher. Because of his estranged relationship with his dad, Jerome practically hustled his way through school with a lot of financial support from Sophia. Soon after graduation, Sophia realised she was pregnant. Sophia and Jerome decided to get married before the child was born and then relocate to the US.
4 months later.
Sophia comes crying to me. She says she believes she’s making a mistake by keeping the pregnancy and marrying Jerome because in 4 months he had done absolutely nothing towards their plan of getting married and relocating to the US. She was considering an abortion but was scared and asked me “If I was your sister and in this situation what would you advice?” and I said to Sophia “I would tell my sister to have an abortion and I think you should too.”
Sophia made a decision to have an abortion the following day but she didn’t because Jerome convinced her otherwise.
5 months later.
Sophia and Jerome get married under makeshift conditions and she delivers a baby boy soon after. I was asked to be his God Father.
6 years later.
Sophia is 5 months pregnant with their second child and she is living in the US in an abusive home with Jerome and their son whom they had named Dominic. In terrible pains and for the fear that she might get killed; Sophia runs out of the house and calls the police. Since moving to the US, their squabbles had gotten worse. One day, she and Jerome had a fight and despite her pregnancy, he beat her mercilessly. The police show up and Sophia kicks Jerome out of the house and is taken to the hospital in an ambulance.
24 hours later.
Sophia is in labour. She gives birth to a baby girl that had to be incubated for 4 months because her organs where underdeveloped. With no husband and father in sight, the medical bills bankrupt her. The baby girl is named Crystal.
1 year later.
Nobody knows where Jerome is but he is in touch with friends via email. Jerome denies his daughter flat out. Sophia is out of a job. Her financial situation deteriorated rapidly and she soon begins to live off the charity of her church. 18 months later, she gets tired, asks her church for one last favour, a ticket home for her and her kids.
Sophia is 32 years old with two kids, no husband, no job and seriously overweight. She cries every time we talk on the phone. I send her money regularly but it can only go so far. I have not spoken to Jerome in over 5 years and nobody really knows where he is or what he is up to but we all doubt if he is better off. He has never seen or touched his daughter who is a splitting image of her brother who is naturally a splitting image of his father.
Do I look at my Godson and feel guilt that I once advised his mother to terminate her pregnancy of him?
But most times I look at the bigger and sadder picture and feel absolutely no guilt but loads of anger. Dominic and Crystal deserve a better life. It doesn’t matter how life turns out eventually for them, I strongly believe their parents were very selfish and immature 12 years ago. No child deserves to be born out of his parents’ guilt or religious fear. An abortion is a routine medical procedure and no big deal if performed under the right conditions. This is just one of many sad stories; I am yet to hear one with a happy ending.
My name is Lagoshunter, I am an unapologetically pro abortion.
Hey people. It’s going to be a touchy one today. Up until now I avoided this topic but after reading a comment from last Friday’s post, I knew the time was right. Mr. Hunter has painted one of many scenarios that brings us to that question: Where do you fall? Pro-Life or Pro-Choice. Don’t just pick a side, tell us why. Use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
The house was dark. The scenes from the TV casting a myriad of moving colours on the watcher and her surroundings. She had fallen asleep though. Her neck was bent at an awkward angle, her fingers lax around the remote.
She was middle-aged. Most estimated her age at late 30s. She was 44. She’d been married three times. She was certain her present business tycoon was The One. She did love him. And she’d been with him for 6years. A record.
The very business tycoon entered the room. Shaking his full head of grey at the scene, he turned off the TV and tapped her.
She jumped. Startled. Her usual reaction to being wakened. She looked about frantically. He tapped her again. She settled.
“Oh. I slept off.” She smiled at herself for stating the obvious.
There was a knock at the door. They looked at each other, both frowning. A visitor at such a late hour? She frowned; he squared his jaw and shoulders and approached the massive bullet-proof door.
“Who is it?”
“Na me, Oga. Musa.”
They both relaxed. He turned the lock and was startled when Musa was pushed in by a mask-wearing taller man.
“Jesus!” Victoria screamed and rolled to the carpeted floor.
The intuder paused. Raising his right arm, he showed off his gun.
“Everybody, down.” He didn’t shout. He had such a commanding aura; even the house-owner didn’t hesitate much before kneeling.
He pushed the tied-up Musa to the side of the door and pointing at the tycoon, he gestured to the expensive couch behind which Victoria was cowering.
Trying hard to keep a calm exterior, the tycoon did as was asked.
“Victoria. Sit too.” The inturder said making the tycoon flinch at the familiar use of her name.
Shaking and confused, Victoria joined her husband. She reached out to clutch his hand, pulling it to her lap. She huddled closer.
The tycoon thought it was time to take control. “Young man, how much do you..”
“Shut up!” The word resounded in the large room and the tycoon’s eyes widened at the authority it carried. This was no tout. He shut up.
“I just want to talk.” The intruder said, then paused. He lowered the gun to his side. “Do you have kids?”
They were both silent.
“Yes.” “No.” They said together.
His hand clenched around the gun.
“What.. what we mean is I have a daughter but Victoria has n..no children..”
The intruder sat heavily on the marble center table.
He was silent. Then:
“Why shouldn’t I kill you?”
Victoria started sobbing loudly. The tycoon nudged her to shut up. She buried her head in her hands and continued to sob, but quietly; already envisioning the end of her life.
“You have no reason to live? Funny. Let me tell you a story…”
The tycoon looked wildly about. He was one of the crazies, what did the TV shows say again? Just let them talk. His eyes flitted about, looking for a way out. Let him talk.
“My mother hated me. She was raped as a teenager by a robber, a killer. I was the product. Her parents won’t let her kill me… She always reminded me I was the spawn of the robber, a killer, the devil..”
Victoria had stiffened beside her husband. The tycoon was barely listening.
“She left me in church one day when I was seven. I never saw her again..”
Victoria had stopped sobbing. She still didn’t look up but her breaths were coming out in sharp gasps.
The tycoon finally listened. “What?!” He looked confused.
“Victoria. My mother? Weren’t you listening?” The arm with the gun came up again. A silent but heavy threat.
He pulled off the mask swiftly with his left hand. “Mother, look at me.”
The tycoon’s eyes widened. “Victoooriaaa…” He whispered softly. She didn’t answer. “Victoooriaaa! Is any of this true? You.. you said you couldn’t have children.. Victoria. Victoooriaaaa?!”
“Yes?!” She fell to the ground. Her face contorted with tears. She still refused to look up. “What can I say? What could I do? I was raped! Raped!”
“I. Said. Look. At. Me!”
The intruder stood up again. He had gained command of himself again.
Taking a long deep breath, he pointed the gun at her.
She raised her head, still sobbing; but only to the level of his wide chest rising and falling steadily.
“Mother.. I’m exactly what you said I was. Now tell me again, why shouldn’t I kill you?”
A not-so-simple question is what I’ve put before you today. I’d like to read your answers, opinions and comments. Thanks for stopping by. Ciao.
Hey people. Start of another week and despite my ridiculously short weekend, I’ve decided to remain positive. So I was going through so of my old posts and I realized I had done two quite similar posts in the past. One on ‘what women want‘ and another on ‘what a girl needs‘. I began to wonder why I hadn’t done a similar post on men and the first answer that came to mind was maybe because there’s this general assumption as regards what men want from the opposite sex. Ask most women and even some men and their answers will probably not vary much. The world has stereotyped the wants of men when it comes to the opposite sex to mostly physical. If that’s the case and the world knows what we want from women, so what then don’t we want?
Most of lastweek I spent my very little free time re-reading Malcolm Gladwells Outliers (excellent read for those who haven’t read it) and this book always gets me wondering about the powers of statistics. Now some of the findings in the book are results of years and years of research carried out on thousands of people. As much as I would love to do that, I really don’t have the time.. well.. and the money. So I decided to take my chances with yet another no-so-survey. I rounded up three very vocal and opinionated young men from different backgrounds and I asked them one question:
What are the top five things that put you off a woman in their order of importance?
These were their answers:
5. Inability to hold an intelligent conversation: I like to talk a lot, about anything and everything. So its important that she’s able to match that. I’m not asking for a know-it-all (Olorunmaje), I just want a girl who knows how to express herself when she’s got an opinion or shut up, listen & occasionally chip in when she doesn’t.
4. Sense of style (Fashion-wise): I’m not asking for a Gucci, Louis, Prada Hoochie. No sir, clothes (handbags & shoes) don’t make the lady.. I believe the key factor here isn’t the tag but the lady wearing them.
3. Sense of humour: If you can watch a whole episode of Seinfeld & your lips don’t even curve even a wee little bit then you’ve lost me. I’m sorry but Basketmouth don’t count. You’ve lost me.
2. Sexual Orientation: I’m not asking if you’re gay or straight. I want to know what your opinion on sex is and honestly I’d like to know what your sexual appetite is like. Not asking if you’re ‘gonna bang’ either.
1. Clingy Babes: You’re bored and I’m busy at the office but you think I should chat with you via BBM all day??? #Jonzing.
5. Speech: major turn off if she cannot speak properly. I’m talking eloquence, diction and use of vocabulary. Pronunciation also. Don’t want to be talking to a girl that pronounces “teeth” as “theet” or “throat” as “troth”.
4. Hygiene: body odor or mouth odor or both.
3. Appearance: I love stylish girls that know how to dress and know what outfit is best for their body and not wear the wrong stuff cause it’s in vogue. Makes them look out of place. Big tummy and no hips? Drop the high waisted skirt.
2. Overly dependent: Big NO!
1. And most importantly…. Feet. That’s what I use to judge. If you ain’t got good looking feet or well taken care of ones… it turns me off.
5. Emotionless: well, this only applies when things are serious… The inability to express feelings and/or desires physically or otherwise ticks me off!
4. No goal(s): if I discover you’re just a ‘anywhere belle face’ chic, all about eateries and shopping! No plans for life… I can’t
3. No humor: if she’s not spot on with my jokes, retorts or comments and I have to explain or I notice she’s not sharp enough to understand.
2. Artificialness (for lack of a better word): Any girl that can’t be comfy without the plastic things, fake lashes, nails..All Fake everything etc…nope!
1. Her voice: I enjoy conversation, so if your voice ain’t worth hearing, I shut down.
PS: I didn’t mention beauty, this is because, for me, its the FIRST deal-breaker. If u haven’t got that, we can’t even get here!
Now, if you take a good look at the three responses, you’ll notice that some things stand out.
Sense of Style/Artificalness/Appearance –> Appearance
Clingy Babes/Overly Dependent/No goals –> Dependence
Sense of humour/No humour –> Humour
Now, I also asked some of my friends this same question and though I didn’t document their answers, I realized there was a pattern. The men of my generation were particular about their women’s appearance. They wanted them to exhibit some measure of independence and they wanted women who could not only relate with their sense of humour but also bring on the laughter from time to time.
I’m glad Kelvin added that last bit to his response because that’s assumed to be a constant. This discovery was however surprising to me and I could branch out from here into several theories but that would require more discussion and surveys. Until I can amass that much time and money, I’d have to rely on you guys. For the guys, I’d like your answer to the same question. If you agree with the guys I interviewed then simply express your opinion as per why you think the three things I highlighted really stood out. For the ladies, please don’t be left out, do you think the guys were being completely honest? Use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
PS: If you missed the poll from yesterday, please check it here.
Hey guys.. It’s time for another poll and today I want to discuss polygamy. Yeah, yeah.. I know a lot of y’all aren’t married but that only makes my not-so-survey perfect. Because what I really want to know is if ‘polygamy’ as we all know it is dead or not in our generation.
Try your hands on the poll but come back to share your thoughts on the your choice as well as the subject of polygamy. Is it something you would consider as a guy? As a young woman between the ages of 23-30 right now, if a guy who openly embraces polygamy proposes to you, how will you react? You know the drill, use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
PS: Happy Fathers day.