An Angry African Woman

Someone once told me that I would be considered intimidating by the African man because I got my masters at the age of 21. I was given the implication that I might have to downplay my achievements to soothe the ego of the African man if I wanted to find a husband.

So, in order for my husband to shine, I would have to dim my light. I can be anything I choose to be as long as I do not surpass him.

Every part of me has to be perfect so that my husband can sleep well at night knowing that he has a beautiful woman with perfect breasts and an apple bottom, who can be a freak in bed but also get down on the floor and scrub and clean while cooking his favourite dish and supporting his dreams while mine stay at the back burner.

I have to be able to bear his children so that his family line can continue and get back to a size 6 almost immediately so that I can satisfy his visual hunger.

And when he comes home smelling of cheap perfume and lipstick marks on his collar, I’ll kiss him ‘welcome’ and take his clothes while acting like I didn’t see it or smell it so that he can be proud of himself that he has gotten away with it once again while trying to curb the pain in my heart because after all, he is a man and this is what men do. I am no different than my neighbour, Omotola whose husband I saw, kissing a girl young enough to be his daughter last week.

And on our 50th wedding anniversary celebration, we will talk about how we survived through the hard times together while staring into the eyes of the children that he had during one of his manly urges around the time we were celebrating our 40th.

Society has made me believe that it is my duty to keep a home and satisfy the man even when he is the one destroying the home. Somehow, my inability to cook that Ogbono soup that he requested for is enough reason for him to go out and be pleased by the thighs of another woman.

Society is my enemy because society is okay with me being treated like a modern slave in the hands of a man who is not even as smart as I am or even in the same league as me.

Well, baby just in case you didn’t know, I worked my ass off for those degrees that you speak about while dealing with a man who did not appreciate me! The man that I marry will be a man in every sense of the word because he will be secure enough to know that we can both shine together. He will be satisfied in knowing that I am just enough for him and that I am all he would ever need.

He would appreciate the changing nature of my beautiful female body and give me the time and encouragement to be the best woman that I can be. He would take me for all that I am and would Iove, respect and honour me just like a real man should. There are many layers to me as woman. I am beautiful, smart, gentle and kind and I can be a wife and change the world all at the same damn time. And it would be a cold day in hell for me to become a slave to your societal bullshit.

 

Photo: Deviant Art