Current Female Presidents in Africa
There are 54 countries in our beautiful Africa. Of these 54, the number of countries with female presidents will shock you. How many female presidents do you think govern African countries? Why should more women participate in politics and governance? Listen to our new podcast below and share your views. If you cannot see the audio controls, your browser does not support the audio element
Not Changing My Name When I Marry
Image: The Hunt My friends and I have been talking about the name change thing we are required to do when we get married. While some of them cannot wait to be a ‘Mrs. Somebody’, a couple of us are worried about that. Discussing it doesn’t bring any form of reprieve because it is not an easy topic to explain. Even if it was, we know we are not only going to have to deal with our men, but our combined families. It is common knowledge that women are supposed to change their names when they marry. They go from bearing their fathers’ names to bearing their husbands’ names. And in most African societies, she becomes ‘mummy this’ or ‘mama that’ when she becomes a mother. People forget that she had a name before she got married and became a mother. Well…some of us don’t want that. We want to keep our own names when we marry. Before you write this conversation off, try and walk in our stilettoes. My friends have a myriad of reasons why they want to keep their names but my reasons include; 1. I love my name. I have always been Ramatu Ada Ochekliye and I have always loved the special ring it has to it. I love explaining to people why my name is so multicultural and religious. I love seeing people try to place my state, tribe, and religion by rolling my name off their tongues. I love knowing that my name is like me; different, yet whole. 2. My name has been my identity all my life; my identity as a Nigerian first, my identity as a person who loves all tribes and religions, my identity as me. 3. My father’s name, Ochekliye, is not associated with anything fantastic. But by being Ochekliyes, my sisters and I have done fantastic things. We love our names not because it had a precedent for greatness but because we set the precedent. You would hear something like ‘The Ochekliye girls are wonderful’, ‘Nobody messes with the Ochekliye girls’, ‘The Ochekliye girls can do all things’ and my personal favorite, ‘Don’t you know I am an Ochekliye?’. We made our name worth it for us. As a result, our name has become our heritage. 4. A man comes into a marriage and is not expected to change his name; or anything for that matter. He is always ‘Mr. A’. When I change my name, I have to change my identity. I have to get used to being called ‘Mrs. A’. What many people do not understand is that it can be quite disorienting to go from being addressed as Ramat to ‘Mrs. A’. 5. The process for changing my name is a lot of work. I have to apply to the courts and then put up an advert in the newspapers. When approved, I need to do a new national identity card, driver’s license and all other documents. If I have an international passport, I have to apply for a new one to reflect the change. All other documents carrying my original name then have to reflect my new name. I even have to change my business cards, bank details and generally, my entire life to fit my new status. Isn’t it simply easier to maintain my name? 6. I am expected to don my husband’s identity, an identity that he is used to, and an identity he isn’t expected to change even though we are both starting this new family. It doesn’t matter that my identity – my heritage – gets erased gradually until his heritage becomes mine. Whatever I achieve becomes his achievements but what he achieves remains his. 7. I am no less married to my husband if I do not bear his name as if I do. So in the real sense, changing my name is immaterial to my role as his wife and partner. 8. I feel that the need to have the woman change her name is because we have been taught that men are our prizes and that our worth is tied to marriage. I love my man but my identity is not tied to him. He is his own person and I am mine. We chose to be together but didn’t choose to be less of ourselves. We both have our dreams and aspirations that are in many cases, independent of each other. We both have our stories, motivations and baggage that make us the people we are. He doesn’t expect me to live for him and vice versa. So while I madly love him, I am still my own person. 9. Patriarchy is still one of the biggest problems of the world. That belief that a woman is only good enough when properly married and bearing her husband’s name is tired. And for many of these patriarchal men (and women), a husband’s name is a brand on his wife. It is no better than branding an animal or say, a property. Truth is, that is how many men view their wives. And yes, you could argue that it is patriarchal to bare my father’s name and you would be right. But it is name I have grown to love because it is mine. 10. I believe in the equality of the sexes and hence, equality in marriage. If the woman is expected to change her name, the man should too. One of my friends suggested that the man and his wife choose an entirely new name and start their own family. Most men however would not hear of it. These are my reasons for wanting to keep my name. I do not begrudge any woman the choice to change her name; as long as it is her choice to do so. I am wary of conforming to norms just because that is always the way things have been done. Just because things have been done a certain way for centuries doesn’t mean that they are right or should continue. I believe the reason why humanity is still
H
By Abe Onche Innocence sits on the threshold He sits, at home in the vacant vastness Decadent, twisted into silence By the ravages of a destitute lifetime He cannot raise his eyes for fear Fear of rising to the cold stars of love Fear of rising to the harsh words of safety Fear of rising to fall that much lower Far from the light and the face of God Angels with tattered wings are his company It is they that prompt, they that prod They are the demons in his flesh Scouring trails across his nerves He cannot rise to reach the stars, The lights he once delicately counted Now replaced by the glint of metal Littered across the ground around him. Evidence of heights he tried to soar On chemical wings There is an irony to the needles Desperately threaded with dreams and hallucinations To sew up a naked existence Leaving nothing but a score of wounds To mark their vain efforts
Maria Ufua Shaming the Fat Shamers
Maria UfuaCEO, Pure Hand Crafts by Marie Maria Ufua is an amazing woman. She is a 28 year old lady from Okhuesan, Esan Southeast local government area, Edo state. She is a fashion designer and the owner of Pure Hand Crafts by Marie, an entrepreneur and a youth and body image advocate. The last of five children, Maria grew up protected and loved by her parents and siblings. Her balance was almost shattered when her father died in 1997; she was 9 years old then. The family didn’t think they would survive but Maria’s mum stepped up to the plate. ‘I had a very hard working mum who studied Library science but was a fashion designer and a caterer at that time. She ensured I and my siblings all had the best of education, food, clothes, morals and skills before she left this world in the year 2004.’ Another death, and this time of her mum and support system, shook them really bad. Maria and her siblings knew they had each other and could go as far as they wanted if they emulated their mother. ‘When my mum passed on, I realized it was time to use every single thing I learnt from her. Hence, I was able to achieve everything I have achieved today.’ But it wasn’t always easy. You see, Maria is a plus sized lady and had been for a while. She was not always plus sized though. In her words, she used to be very skinny but she always knew she was predisposed to being big because of genetics. And as with most plus sized ladies (and men), Maria was teased mercilessly. ‘Some people love my size. But a lot of people always throw insults when I pass by them. Also, when people get to know about things I do, they are always shocked and ask “how can a fat girl do all these?” I just always ignore negative comments and focus on what I want to achieve.’ Ignoring deliberate meanness can get hard but Maria’s recipe worked to get her mind off the shamers; good natured and otherwise. Her recipe? Picking up causes and working at achieving them. Maria and a participant at one of her trainings ‘I have a fashion business called Pure Hand outfit where I make clothes, shoes and accessories for both males and females of all ages. I have worked with a lot of Non-Governmental Organizations in training youths and women in skills acquisition. I am currently the secretary general of Karkara Development Initiative and I am the youngest in the organization. I am also the President of Karkara Youth Ambassadors for Peace. I am also with Fabsisters Corner, a size advocacy and women empowerment group. I have a passion for youth empowerment hence I am always organizing free skills acquisition trainings. I also partner with the Kaduna Ministry of Commerce and Industry in promoting handcrafts made in Kaduna State.’ In spite all these, all some people still see is ‘a fat girl’. This was one of the reasons Maria joined the Fabsisters. Maria and other members of Fabsisters in African attire ‘Fabsisters corner is a size advocacy and empowerment group. It was formed by two lovely friends; Ijeoma Chinelo Obasi and Kenechi Adunni Okafor in Lagos state. Fabsisters was officially launched October, 2016, though it has been in existence for over five years. The organization has different chapters in different states and also in Ghana. The Kaduna chapter started October, 2016. In Fabsisters, we ensure that no sister (plus sized woman) feels less confident in herself because of her size. Also articles on major problems faced by plus sized women and their solutions are passed across to members to enable them conquer their fears. We are also planning a skill acquisition training to empower less privileged women and youths in our community. We ensure that no member is denied a job opportunity because of size or bullied in any way. We also ensure we are there whenever any sister needs help of any sort. ’ How about that?! Maria does so much for women and young people that we should celebrate her! But better than that, Maria would still do what she doing if no one saw her as anything other than a big girl. Her self confidence level is worth emulating. And even though there will still be people who will read this and scoff, Maria is confident about this; ‘My self-confidence is because I believe in myself and I believe that whatever I set out to do, with God by my side, I will achieve my goals regardless of what people think about me, my size or my gender. I believe in me, and when you believe in yourself you will conquer the world.’ And we love Maria for that! She is a beautiful, awesome, brilliant and talented woman. We are honored to know her and share in her work. Maria Ufua, you are a black girl and you rock! To participate in any of her trainings, order your clothes made or know more about Fabsisters, contact Maria via; Address: Dokaji Street, Ungwan Pama, Sabon Tasha, Kaduna State. WhatsApp: +2348087940145 Twitter: @ufua_maria Facebook: Ufua Maria Uwa Instagram: Purehandcraftsbymarie Maria training young people
Take One: The Wedding Party
So we finally saw The Wedding Party by Kemi Adetiba. We have been huge fans of hers for years and when we heard she was doing her first feature film, we couldn’t wait to see what she would churn out. The rave reviews came in right from its debut showing in Nigerian cinemas. Cinemas were packed ‘back to back to back’ and one couldn’t help but praise the publicity, the celebrity cast and the production team for ensuring that almost everyone had a reason to see the film. We didn’t want to watch the movie when everyone was talking about it. We saw the reviews and pictures of packed cinemas and knew that if we were to watch the movie objectively, we would have to wait. Plus, as aspiring filmmakers, we knew we needed to see the movie with analytical minds if we were to learn anything from it. You don’t know how hard this was when our entire timeline was filled with praises for Kemi. When the buzz finally died down – which isn’t really much because the cinema was still packed – we finally went to see it. Before we entered the cinema however, we decided not to watch the movie as a film makers. We wanted to be members of the audience, not critics. So we got in and watched. Unfortunately, consumers are also heavy critics so we guess we had to do us. Anyway, this is what we took from the movie; 1. The Cokers: We think the Cokers were the true love story in the film. Played by Ali Baba and Sola Sobowale, the scenes came off with ease, making you almost forget they were acting. They had this homey kind of love that made you want to grow old with someone like them. In spite of the over-the-top behavior, we felt like that was THE relationship that should have been focused on. What made us happy was the fact that their quirks complemented each other. When Tinuade found out her husband wasn’t rich anymore, the question, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’and Bamidele’s response of ‘I tried to’got to us. It showed that in spite of how seemingly perfect they were, they didn’t share everything; which is true even in the happiest relationships. We think that was well done. 2. The Onwukas: Apart from the coldness of Lady Obianuju (Ireti Doyle) and the almost-always flustered attitude of Chief Felix (Richard Mofe-Damijo) when dealing with her, their relationship was a mirror of many Nigerian marriages. Many people are just not happy in their marriages and whether rich or poor, it bites the same. What was obvious however was that Lady Obianuju loved her husband. Yes, she laced her speeches with enough poison darts to down a whale but it seemed like she was always trying to get his attention. Of course the roles were played well by both these awesome actors. It is no surprise then that the most romantic scene (for us) was when Chief Felix said he wanted to spend more time with his wife. Was it cheesy? It was dripping melted cheese! But the way her face softened without losing all her cool was just brilliant. 3. Dunni and Dozie: We love us some Kemi Adetiba but the central love story is played out. ‘Reformed playboy settles down with a virgin’ is the stuff millions of M&Bs and eHarlequins are made of and there is a reason why we stopped reading them. We couldn’t wait until their scenes were over so we could see something from the others. We would have loved to see a middle finger to traditional norms but then, we am not romantic. But think about it. Wouldn’t it have been better if Dozie was the virgin and Dunni the reformed playgirl who he still ends up with? A whole lot of other things were clichéd but we know people relate well to clichés. The best man, the hot ex, the wedding planner, the wedding crashers, the Iya food all tied in nicely into the movie. Two surprises were the Driver (Frank Donga) and ‘Guchee’ red suit and the entitled thief (Sambasa Nzeribe). Almost everything was relatable and we think that contributed to the film’s success. Our best actors had to be; a) Sola Sobowale: Yes we know she is the star of the film but beyond that, she was the character we saw ourselves as the most. Easily excited, crazily paranoid, life of the party, shows whatever emotion she is feeling and is just a happy spirit. We are not all of that but we felt completely in tune with her. b) Zainab Balogun: It is weird that in almost all the reviews we saw, most people didn’t mention Zainab. We must say, Zainab acted that role like mad! The stutters were well timed, the bouts of crazy, the switch from respectful I-know-who-pays-my-bills to the bitchy high classed boss lady made Zainab a delight to watch. It is weird that we were never really fans of hers but her acting made us love her. Girl brung it! c) Frank Donga: In one sentence, that guy is an idiot! His brilliance expressed in such stupidity can only be applauded. He is the kind of person that will annoy the hell out of you when you are with him but makes you laugh when he is being stupid to another person. We think RMD, Ireti, Beverly, Somkele, Eyinna and Adesua brought in what was expected – even though we totally didn’t see that slap from Somkele coming. We didn’t expect much from Banky W and Ikechukwu so we weren’t disappointed with their performance. We didn’t like that Eyinna’s character was so weak but when we saw him block that ‘Small Chops’ from creating a scene, we knew the character was supposed to be
Making Itoro a Woman
Female Genital Mutilation or in simpler terms, violence against women and girls. Ekong Itoro clenched her hands in the anticipation of the pain that would jolt through her in a few minutes. She breathed in quickly…and then slowly, making sure to count to five before letting each breath out. Her back was already drenched in sweat from lying on the pile of clothes in the very hot and fetid room. She could taste the blood at the back of her throat from pressing down on her teeth to keep them from clattering. She could also feel the warmth dripping from between her thighs; thighs she held together tightly as a final act of defiance before she was forced to spread them wide open. Her mother and aunties all told her it would only hurt for a minute. She desperately wanted to believe them but the screams of all the girls who had passed through this room revealed their bare faced lie. Those long, sad and broken screams sang a song of sorrow night after night until Itoro could barely sleep. When she finally managed to get some shut eye, she was jolted awake from nightmares of the girls walking out of THE room. She had watched girl after girl enter the room and come out wailing in pain. She had heard the screams of those classified as ‘not strong enough’ as they waddled in anguish. She wished her family didn’t live so close to Nne-ekami, the old gnarled woman who ensured all girls a certain age went through the traditional rites. She wished her window wasn’t directly opposite Nne-ekami’s small, worn out hut. She wished she didn’t notice Nne-ekami checking her out, waiting patiently like a vulture at the site of a dying child. But Itoro knew that she could wish all she wanted and nothing would change what was about to happen. As per the customs of her people, she must be circumcised after her first expulsion of blood. The other vulture-like old women began to enter the room. There were four of them. They were there to ensure no girl ran away from what their culture demanded. They were a people of upright character and they would not allow any girl ‘bring shame to her family and their people’. Itoro would have scuttled away if there was room to. Instead, she closed her eyes and dug her nails deeper into her palms. She swore she wouldn’t cry but the tears started falling by themselves. She unclenched her hands to wipe them away only to be hit with the smell of blood and death that she associated with Nne-ekami. Itoro didn’t know when a gasp escaped from her lips. She opened her eyes and standing right in front of her was Nne-ekami holding a dull, jagged razor blade. Itoro had never seen anything more menacing in her life. The razor refused to glint, somehow mirroring the dire circumstances of what was about to happen. She wished she could die rather than go through this moment. For some reason, the things the other girls had told her started coming back. ‘It is the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life….’ ‘I begged God to take my life…’ ‘After the circumcision, my nyash swelled up and was smelling for days. They had to use leaves to get the swelling down…’ ‘When I went to urinate, it was like someone put burning charcoal in my nyash…’ ‘When my husband sleeps with me, I don’t feel anything…’ ‘Nwaha died after they cut her. What a lucky girl…’ And Itoro started to scream. She was not just screaming for herself. She was screaming for all the other girls who had been a visitor in this room. She screamed for mothers who went through this and still demanded their daughters suffer the same. She screamed because there was no one who was going to speak up for the women of their community; not their king, not the men and not the women either. ‘I see this girl wants to bring disgrace to our people. I have not even touched her and she is shouting like a pig.’ Nne-ekami looked at the other women. They knew what to do; even though no word was said. On either side of Itoro, a woman held an appendage. Two of the women knelt on Itoro’s hands, sending a shot of pain right through her arms and all the way through her spine. Like a well-planned routine, they clamped their hands over Itoro’s mouth as she trashed even more. The other two women pried her legs wide open at awkward angles until Itoro thought she would die. Nne-ekami patted Itoro’s thighs and smiled. She pinched her clitoris and held it firmly in place. Itoro could sense all her nerve endings on edge. Then came the grating voice. ‘From today, you shall be a proper woman. Don’t worry, we have all gone through this and this will make sure that you don’t become a prostitute. Don’t worry ehn.’ And then she cut. Itoro thought her hands nearly pulled out of its socket was painful. She begged God to kill her when her leg was pulled painfully apart. She thought suffocating under the sweaty, smelly hands of these women was horrifying. But nothing – absolutely nothing – prepared her for the pain that shot through her entire being when the razor sliced through her super sensitive clitoris and labia. Nothing prepared her for the white hot fire that was sent to her body from the hands of Nne-ekami. When her eyes rolled back into her head, she was glad to welcome the nothingness that numbed her excruciating suffering. Ekong Itoro was only eleven years old when she saw her first period. It seemed fitting that one so young should only live for eleven years.
‘Certified Homosexual’ for Being Different
Pointing at a black manImage Credit: The Sacramento Observer I met a lady on my way home and complimented her hair. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was engulfed in a memory I shelved a while back. It was early 2016 and I had just moved to Lagos. To welcome me to town, my friend – and her friends – took me out for ice cream and pizza. When we got to the spot and it was packed full, we had to wait on this really long queue. I offered to stay on the ice cream queue while they got the pizza. A lady was behind me and something made her bump into me. I turned and saw she was a beautiful, classy looking girl. Yes, in the two seconds I looked at her, I digested all of that. What was most interesting however was her attitude; she was very polite and apologetic. I smiled back and told her it was okay. In no time, we struck a conversation about the ice cream flavors as we waited to get to the front of the line. Just as we got to our turn, my friends returned and we ordered. Because we were ordering for four, the girl behind me was done with her order before ours was ready. As she turned to leave, we waved at me and walked away. I was so impressed at her charming behavior that I didn’t notice my friend giving me a look. She scuttled closer to me and asked if the girl was my friend. I said I had just met her and described the situation of our ‘meeting’. My friend looked at me long and hard and said, ‘you need to be careful oh. This is Lagos. Look at how friendly she was. I thought you guys were old friends. You better be careful because girls like that are certified lesbians.’ I was shocked to my bones. I looked at my friend in the hope that she was joking but her expression told me all I needed to know. I asked her why she would say that and she insisted she knew what she was talking about. I let it go but the memory stayed with me for a while. Soon enough, I started asking myself if the girl had truly been hitting on me. Apart from the friendliness, there was nothing untoward about our exchange. We basically just talked ice creams and the service of the people at the creamery. All these happened in less than five minutes. If she was flirting, wouldn’t she at least have asked for my number? Before shelving the thought into my memory, I concluded my friend was jaded and it really wasn’t her fault. She had lived in Lagos longer than I did and had heard stories. But even more than that, she has grown to accept certain stereotypes about women. If, at first glance, these women didn’t fit into the accepted norm, they needed to be boxed and labelled in the ‘do not touch or associate with’ category. It was not the first time I had been told to be wary of overly friendly girls. Even I had been told to stop being overly friendly. Reminds me of when I was younger and a super friendly ‘tomboy’. I really hate that word because it seems to say we are abnormal when all we just do what comes naturally to us. Anyway, EVERYONE was my friend! People liked me and I liked them in turn. It was very normal for people to come visiting or for me to go to their homes. My parents tried to make me conform to their definition of me but when their backs were turned, I always went back to the real me. One day, an older lady called me to her house and told me that I needed to stop dressing like a boy and being so friendly because that was how lesbians behaved. She preached for long and when I left her room, I felt so dirty and ashamed that I went out in search of my first girlie clothes. Like my friend, the woman had been conditioned to think in boxes. Girls had to be a certain way or be labelled bad. So I asked myself, what if the lady at the restaurant was a lesbian? Does that make her less human? Is she unworthy of my conversation? Is she carrying a communicable ‘disease’ of lesbianomania? Plus, telling me to be wary felt like I couldn’t be trusted to make my own decisions about my sexuality, like a simple conversation was going to convert me into the grand dame of lesbians in Africa. I must admit that this isn’t just a female matter; it affects guys too. When a man does things that are not like the rest of his gender, he has to be gay. God forbid that a man is a makeup artist, a fashion designer, a model, an interior decorator, a chef or one who just likes to look good. Woe betides that man whose fashion sense is amazing or who dares to wear pink. In fact, a man who knows the difference between beige and plum should be thrown into homosexual jail. Be openly romantic and face the wrath of the gods. Hate sports and be stoned. Cross-dress and have people refuse to be on a panel with you. Want to be certified homosexual? Be different from the norm! I think this has to stop and soon! We cannot continue to label people homosexuals just because they are different from our accepted form of behavior. Everyone is different. Everyone has their own view of life and it is unfair – and quite frankly mean – to try to make people conform to yours. When you put people in a box, you close yourself to the possibilities they have. One of the greatest things I heard Aries Spears say is that ‘everyone
Why Women Should Carry Their Own Condoms
Woman with CondomPicture Credit: Zenito Haven So I watched this show a while back on Ebony Life Television (ELTV). There was a voices-on-the-streets segment and the question asked was if it is okay for women to carry condoms. Many people gave varying responses but one stuck with me for days. The respondent, a very confident (albeit uneducated) man, couldn’t hide his disdain at the question. He was completely against the concept. His closing statement was what got me riled up. He went, ‘Man wey get two woman na still man but woman wey get two man na olosho.’ The first thing I thought after the red haze passed was what the correlation was between carrying a condom in one’s purse and sex work. The second thing was whether I should blame his sexism and chauvinism on his poor education. I was still thinking of this when the male anchor went in and buttressed his point. He said if he found a condom in a woman’s purse, he would assume the worst about her; that he may be the lucky guy today and another guy would be lucky tomorrow. This ‘educated’ guy couldn’t understand that finding condoms in a woman’s purse didn’t necessarily equate to having sex with her. He naturally assumed that the discovery was an invitation to sex; and it says a lot about him. I was glad when the female anchor asked him a simple question; ‘what do you thing WE think of YOU when we see condoms in YOUR wallet?’ Of course he mumbled about it being different but no one can say that wasn’t expected. Since that day, I have been thinking about the incident and mulling over it in my head. What is so wrong with a woman carrying a condom? The answer is, nothing! But before I get to that, let us think about the point of view these guys held. The expectation is that a man can be randy but a woman should not. A man can have sex with as many women as he wants but a woman who does the same has to be wanton, a whore, a slapper, easy, loose or a prostitute. Women are not supposed to be in touch with their sexuality and be sexually active. To dare to be so sexually open to carry condoms is perceived as the height of sexual depravity in a woman. The same is however not expected of a man. When a condom is found in a man’s wallet, the only worry these people have is what size he is carrying. In essence, men are expected to sexually protect themselves but women shouldn’t. Or better put, women should protect themselves only through abstinence or sticking to one partner; preferably, their husbands. This ideology is not in itself wrong as long as it is the woman’s choice but to demand that a sexually active woman not protect herself is just too much. I believe that sexually active women should carry their own condoms. Let me explain using two scenarios. 1. The one-man woman; This woman is sexually active but has only one partner. There are situations which should allow her carry her own condoms; a) She is horny, goes to see the man she is dating, they make out, he is about to slide in and bam! She notices he is isn’t wearing a coat. She asks why he isn’t and he says he has none. If she doesn’t have a condom, she is at a crossroad between going ahead, doing something else that doesn’t require penetration, getting into a fight of frustration or stopping altogether. You see how her condom can solve these problems? b) She is faithful to her partner but he is anything but. Her darling one-in-a-million man is randy for days. His excuse is that his sex drive is super crazy and to help the world, he needs to be a man-whore. Typical entitled male behavior. Thing is, without protection, he is bringing a bit of something from all the ladies he has been with to this woman who loves him. And in cases where the woman is his wife, going skinny is expected; so are her chances of contracting an infection. If this woman doesn’t protect herself, she may end up with a myriad of sexually transmitted infections. Yes, I know some of you are already asking why she stays with a Casanova but some women amaze me so… 2. The many-men woman; It is especially expedient that women who have multiple sexual partners carry their own condoms. They shouldn’t have to expect the men they have sex with decide their protection. This is where sex workers have it right. I have been told that ‘prostitutes’ – as some would call them – insist on having sex with a condom. They know they are already at risk and further putting themselves out there is not something they want to deal with. Again, before you crucify me, there will always be women who profit off sex and no matter what you say and do, they will do EXACTLY what they want. AND…where it is their choice, how e take concern you? The least of the reasons why sexually active women should carry their own condoms is unplanned pregnancies. There are so many things way worse than pregnancy; HIV, AIDS, Chlamydia, HPV, Gonorrhea, Herpes, Hepatitis, genital Warts and so many more. The risks of contracting some of these diseases can be greatly reduced by using a condom; especially for those which are transmitted via genital fluids. And with the hookup culture in many cities, it is important that we do not spread these infections. And on the flip side, the reason why women who aren’t sexually active should carry condoms is to help other women make safer sexual choices. How does this affect the woman who is chaste and is keeping herself for her husband? First off, you don’t know where your husband may have been. He could have been with that woman you branded a
Top 5 Black Sitcoms of the 90s
The 90s was probably the best time for television, not because they had the best content or the most brilliant technology but because it was television lots of people across the world were tuned to. It was an especially wonderful time for Black films, movies, television series and music. This era shaped the lives of most people under 40. So today, we throwback to our TOP 5 BLACK SITCOMS OF THE 90s. Listen and tell us what your favorite sitcoms of the 90s were! If you cannot see the audio controls, your browser does not support the audio element
January Song
January Song ( For Ramat on her birthday) 🌻🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌻 Inflowing, the flavours of Capricorn in midnoon Salivating, the assumptions of goat meat grilling on the fire overflowing, the joy of now …the moment of candlelight, confettis and cakes If I could distill every single unit of thought of this day then a sea of songs shall twill from my mind; a pool of merry to slowly sail you through with gifts of time On days as this I want to rent an entire city, plant tulips across its sky pop tequila into space and wreath your name in bright blue bouquets On days as this to laud your name and post streamers into air is a rite we’re wont to do on my tongue, a prayer, a sweet wish I roll like candy to explain the jazz, of this natal excitement there’s a song playing in my head, glossing through my lips, it cues in the movement of hips, the tinkling of cymbals, the wiggling of waists and the pumping of petaled-arms into air …step out R and take the floor, today is yours for feting more than any other day, may you be enveloped with joy beyond compare, may triumph kiss your cheeks and may tranquility touch every inch of your heart. Shittu Fowora 9.1.2017
