Men-Hating Feminists
Image: Ebony Magazine As more women are finding (and using) their voices, the dark forces of patriarchy seem to be retreating; albeit slower than a slug’s pace. Oh, there is still a long way to go before we can confidently say that women share the same pedestal with men but for the most past, we are not where we were one hundred years ago. Women in some climes can work, vote, run for office, choose their life’s paths, and receive inheritance. Though the strides are small, women are becoming visible; and not just as walking vaginas for the pleasure of men. What do we have to thank for it? A lot of it is hinged on ‘Feminism’. Of all the definitions of feminism that is out there, the most appealing to me is the one postulated by Bestselling Author, Chimamanda Adichie. ‘Feminist: a person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes.’ From the definition, we can infer that feminism calls for the equal treatment of men and women in all spheres of life. Feminism wants women to have equal access to education, health care, job opportunities, equal pay for same work done, protection from sexual predation and abuse, lack of discrimination based on gender to mention a few. Women want to be able to make the choices for their own lives, their sexuality, their reproductive health, whom they marry or even if they marry, their education and career choices, whether they want to be in governance or leadership etc. These are some of the core values and principles of feminism. However, easily ascribed the term ‘feminism’ is her twin, misandry. Misandry is; mɪˈsandri/ noun ‘dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against men (i.e. the male sex).’ (Wikitionary) At the core of misandry is deeply rooted hate and prejudice against men. For many, this has stemmed from being repeatedly bashed by a system that favors men at the expense of women. For others, it is the men themselves that evoke this hatred and bitterness. The sheer disrespect, the overbearing ego, the unabashed entitlement and the callous treatment of our emotion and person can become too much to bear. It is no wonder that many of us become so filled with hate that we become misandrists. I know…because I was one of these women. The men in my life weren’t the best models for me and each man that came into my life affirmed my resolve to hate men. All of these men seemed to be cut from the same cloth. I got to see spousal abuse, child sexual abuse, rape, a constant reminder that women’s opinions didn’t matter, and even worse. Around me were women dealing with so much from the men in their lives that at an early age, I knew that I wouldn’t take it lying down. I made up my mind to never give any man that much power over me. Like me, most feminists came to this conclusion. Some of us went a bit further though. We delved into the ‘Men are scum’, ‘Men are trash’ and ‘Women are better than men’ groups. As we became less docile to the men in our lives, we became more hateful. While being less docile is fantastic, being hateful is not! Yes! I said it! Misandrists are almost as bad as patriarchists/misogynists in this regard: these broad groups are both fueled by hate and/or prejudice; they both undermine the importance of the other gender; they think the development of their societies lies squarely on their gender; and they overestimate their independence and are both bullishly stubborn in their prejudice. Hating the other half of the population doesn’t bode well for anybody. And this is why I believe feminists need to do better. We need to, as Michelle Obama so eloquently put, ‘go high when they go low’. We cannot reflect hate and prejudice and expect to stimulate change. Yes, we should be angry when we are discriminated against, when we have do not have equal access to healthcare, education, and job/leadership opportunities. We should refuse to watch women suffer the debilitating effects of domestic, emotional and sexual violence, human trafficking and forced prostitution. We must speak against inheritance, religious and cultural laws that disfavor women. We must cry out against female genital mutilation and child marriages and promote the choices women make with their bodies, clothing and sexuality. We should not become doormats to men who think we are not equal to them but we can do all this without resorting to hating men! Hate is a blinding emotion. It prevents us from seeing people’s humanity. Once that is firmly rooted, we treat people poorly and hurt them. They in turn treat us poorly and we have an unending circle of misunderstanding and dysfunction. Are some men scum? Yes! Are there men that are trash? Yes! Are some women better than some men? Oh yeah! But…are all men scum, trash or less than women? No! Also, there are women who are ‘scum’, ‘trash’ and despicable human beings. Men and women are equal! No gender is better than the other. We are both important to the advancement of our societies. We ALL need to contribute to moving the human race forward. Men couldn’t do it on their own. Women also can’t do it on our own. So why not join forces? So dear men-hating feminist, I know that we have gone through so much and have suffered a lot from men but can we ditch the hate? Can we give each man we meet the benefit of doubt and blank slates, judging them based on their own ideologies, belief systems and how they treat us rather than lumping them together in the negativity of their gender? Can we try to show these patriarchists that we are better, not because we are women, but because we have better understanding of the complexities of our humanity? Can we change the rhetoric? This may sound idealistic but I honestly believe it is doable. Do you?
Choosing Your Female Role Models
Growing up, I only had Oprah Winfrey to look up to. Yes, I wanted to be a neurosurgeon who found the cure to cancer but whenever I saw Oprah on TV, I totally connected to her. I was barely seven when I knew I wanted to be like her. While there were many white women presenting and influencing lives, Oprah was the only black woman I saw and what a black woman! She was dark skinned, thick and could hold her own. She had genuine empathy for her guests and whatever situation she was talking about. It wasn’t hard for people to connect to her. And as two-way streets go, she got to leave a little of herself in all of us. I love that woman! By that age, I had started acting and though my parents would have nothing to do with an actor or the profession, I took every opportunity to act. When I couldn’t, it wasn’t unusual to write elaborate stories in my head that I could star in. Those stories were my escape from reality and the happiness I felt in my stories spilled over to my reality. As I got older, I began to see more women role models. From Late Mrs. Williams, my Primary 3 teacher, who taught me to see people’s humanity first before their tribes, religions and beliefs, to girls like me who were topping their classes. Because I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother, it wasn’t until I got older that I realized just how much of a role model she was to me. Though she would not admit it, she was the closest definition of a feminist to me at that time. Oh, I didn’t know that word then but her stance on equal treatment of people molded my thoughts on equality. And then, when I was in secondary school, I stopped looking at black female role models. My role models became white women; Julia Roberts, Danielle Steel, Agatha Christie, and a host of M&B and eHarlequin writers. One day I woke up and wondered why I didn’t have black female role models. It wasn’t like I wasn’t learning a lot from these white women. I just felt I could also learn as much from women who had my skin tone and could possibly have shared my kind of experience. So… I looked! In music, in films, in education, in health, in politics, the arts, literature, construction, engineering, law, broadcast media and what not. And I found women! Everywhere! Every field! Every profession! Doing great things. Black women, white women, women of Asian heritage, Latina women, Arab women, all women! What helped me find them? Books, television, radio, the internet and my imagination! Everywhere I looked, there was one black woman doing inspiring things for her community and humanity at large. I wondered why these women weren’t celebrated more, why their achievements always seemed to be tied to the men in their lives and why young girls like me who felt different from the crop of conformists didn’t think we had models to look up to. And the answer was in the question. We ARE DIFFERENT from the norm! We are women who understand our worth and would not kowtow to popular opinions about who or what we should be! It was easy to connect to Oprah Winfrey, Whitney Houston, Beyoncé Knowles, Genevieve Nnaji, Kemi Adetiba, Mo Abudu, Shonda Rhimes, Ava Duvernay, Taraji P. Henson, Debra L. Lee, Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Amina Mohammed and many more because we are all strong black women living our dreams and influencing our societies. I don’t agree with all their opinions but what I have taken from each of them has made me the woman I am today; Ramatu Ada Ochekliye. We all need to choose female role models to draw our strengths from. There is absolutely nothing wrong in choosing women of different races, religions, tribes, ideologies and beliefs to be your role models. I chose black women because I can relate to them in many ways. I am still inspired by women who are not of my race; Hillary Clinton, Christiane Amanpour, Angela Merkel, Ellen DeGenegeres, Angelina Jolie, Malala Yousefzai to mention a few. Find women who resonate with your principles, your dreams and goals and emulate the better qualities they present as you strive to become the woman you are made to be. So today, our we celebrate every woman doing her thing, carving a niche in our world, inspiring the next crop of women to do and be better and contributing that umphh to the world that is gradually making the world better than it was yesterday. You rock!
Etiquette for Semi-Formal Meetings
Hey! Hey! Ramat is in the building! So by now, you must have heard I did a post about what turned out to be a horrible meeting BECAUSE I didn’t get food. I don’t play with my food at all! But more than that, I believe that etiquette is important! There are certain things people should and shouldn’t do and I dished on it in the new video log. The video is called ETIQUETTE FOR SEMI-FORMAL MEETINGS. Watch the new video below! Whoot whoot!
‘1 Girl, 1 Pad’ Campaign
Shades of Us is a forum for open discussions on issues affecting Africa, Africans and people of African descent, with a view of changing the ‘dark continent’ narrative of Africa. Since our inception in 2014, most of our work have been online campaigns for or against social issues and dysfunction. At the start of the year, we pledged to start doing more people-to-people work to affect our society; one community at a time. It is in lieu of this that we are partnering with Save our Women (SOW) Foundation for the ‘1 Girl, 1 Pad’ campaign. Save Our Women (SOW) Foundation seeks to help young girls be their best in everything they do. Also partnering with Save Our Women (SOW) Foundation is Women Regaining Value, a not-for-profit organization aimed at empowering women lost to social degradation. Here is what you need to know about the project and how you can be a part of it. WHAT IS ‘1GIRL 1PAD’? ‘Project 1Girl 1Pad’ is a campaign that is aimed at reaching out to young women in Internally Displaced Persons camp in Kaduna. This campaign would involve engaging women in Kaduna and its environs to donate a single pad towards the success of the campaign. Our goal is to ensure every female in the selected IDP camp has enough pads for the next 3 months assuming she has a menstrual period of 3days. WHY ‘1GIRL 1PAD’? Girls in IDP camps have had a hard time maintaining menstrual hygiene during their periods due to the inability to have and purchase sanitary pads. So ‘1Girl, 1 Pad’ project seeks to help these girls by providing pads through building a culture of giving back and volunteerism among women. WHEN IS ‘1GIRL 1PAD’? The campaign ends with a visit to an IDP camp on the 28th of May, 2017, in commemoration of International Menstrual Hygiene Day. The build up to the campaign will run all through May with campaign awareness visits to schools in Kaduna. HOW CAN I BE A PART? Make a donation of a pad today. You can also ask your friends and followers to be a part of the campaign by sharing posts about the project using the #1Girl1Pad and #May28 hashtags. To donate a pad, contact the following people; LOCATION SOW CONTACT PERSON PHONE NUMBER ABUJA Elizabeth Doo 08080905888 08167225202 AKWA IBOM Justina 08130994549 ILORIN, Kwara State Peace 08161260737 JOS, Plateau State Dela Tsintop 08130400344 07034509602 KWARA Olawale 07036462896 LAGOS Bukola 08034790750 MAKURDI, Benue State Natasha 09054895775 NSUKKA, Enugu State Mildred 07060900075 PORT HARCOURT, Rivers State Progress 08068884561 SAMARU, ZARIA Sadiya 08095963818 SHIKA, ZARIA Blessing 08136514860 ZAMFARA Fatima 07068243199 Or make cash donations to; Account Name: Fali Zephaniah Account Number: 0084234503 Bank: Diamond Bank With one pad, you help a girl in an Internally Displaced People’s camp come one step closer to good menstrual hygiene. We implore you to join us in this campaign and help us ensure that girls at Internally Displaced People’s camps have one less thing to worry about. Thank you!
When Women Become the Drivers of Misogyny and Patriarchy
Beyonce and Serena when they were pregnant It saddens me that I have to take this stand today but it has become necessary. Let me make this assertion; in many instances, women are the drivers of patriarchy and a hindrance to other women’s advancement. Even though I have always known that many women are not supportive of each other, I get angry when people say it out loud. I believe those statements are always said in poor light and usually used to describe women as these petty, jealous and bitter beings. I also felt that it was a rhetoric meant to push the idea that we can’t be trusted to be functional outside our ‘emotions’. But even more than that, I desperately wanted to believe that the men who said things like this were wrong; just as they were wrong about our abilities, capabilities and equality. But the past few weeks has got me really assessing my stand on the issue. I knew I had to step out of the idealistic bubble I had put myself in and address the fact that women give misogyny life. While some men and their applies-only-to-women rules are a big problem, women can sometimes look like they are our ‘biggest’ problem. Here is why I am sad about it. Women are quick to put other women down. Say ‘men and women are equal’ and a lot of times, it is a woman who says we aren’t. An unmarried woman gets to the height of her profession or business or political peak and women patriarchists would be the first to classify her achievements as rubbish because she has no husband. A group of us are making the decision to keep our names when we marry and guess what? Some of our biggest opposition are women! Moving on, some women are beginning to come out of abusive relationships and marriages with evidence of abuse and women ask what they did to get beaten or abused! A woman says she is being sexually abused and other women ask what she was wearing. She says she was raped and women ask ‘What took you to his house?’ She says she wants to run for office and women label her a prostitute. In many communities, women who have gone through the pain of female genital mutilation are themselves the ones who ensure younger generations get cut. Like what the hell?! Of course there are men who do these too but our desire is that they will become less vocal as women become more aware of our rights. But how do you deal with women who are helping these men to keep the walls of patriarchy and misogyny from falling down? And why can’t they see the irony? Let me give you some examples that got me in a fix. When Beyoncé got pregnant and said it was a miracle, the backlash was quick. Many people challenged her for daring to call her pregnancy a miracle. Naomi Schaefer Riley of The New York Post even published this piece trivializing her pregnancy. I am a Beyoncé fan and could be labelled jaded but isn’t it weird that we all say, ‘The miracle of childbirth’, ‘A child is a miracle’ but when Beyoncé gets pregnant, pregnancy isn’t a miracle anymore? I could almost understand the ignorance of the men who wanted to dictate how a woman should feel about something happening to her, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand women who felt they needed to put her experience down because she dared to call it a ‘miracle’. I am of the school of thought that pregnancy is not an achievement but I would not put any woman down who wants to celebrate it as such. I wasn’t always like this but I learned to evolve my ideologies. The same thing happened when it was discovered that Serena Williams was pregnant when she played – and won – her 23rd grand slam in Australia. Most people were excited and genuinely proud of what Serena had done. It spoke of a strength that was admirable. Well…the excitement was good until trolls reared their ugly heads. One in particular got me so pissed with her tweet. See how much engagement she got for that? It made me wonder; didn’t she get the memo that she could extol the qualities of one woman without putting down another? And dear ladies, by show of hands, how many of you would choose to pound yam at your third trimester? Or walk long distances? Or break firewood? Or do any hard work for that matter? But according to Miss Lady above, Serena’s experience didn’t matter because it wasn’t as hard as someone else’s. Well, it may not be as hard as some other women in the world but all their experiences are valid! Missy above could have done better by mentioning some of the underlying factors that force women to do these hard chores whilst pregnant but no…that wouldn’t have brought in the likes and retweets. If we were to use the logic of the trolls in Beyoncé and Serena’s cases, and in cases of all women whose ‘achievements’ are brought down, I think it is safe to say we shouldn’t celebrate anything! Anything at all! This is because, no matter what you do, say or achieve, there will always be someone who has gone through worse to achieve the same. But many of us cannot help but be crabs and it is that mentality that is keeping us women from achieving so much more than we are now. Not talking about our role and contribution to misogyny fuels it even more. We must call out women who contribute to the culture of putting other women down. It makes no sense to keep quiet just because we don’t want some man somewhere saying, ‘I told you so’. Well, I was told! I heard you loud and clear! And…I have seen it firsthand too! Trust me, it sucks! But patriarchy and misogyny sucks too! Imagine a world where
Find Your Motivation
Today I woke up with absolutely no desire to do anything. I was burned out physically and emotionally and I was beginning to feel like my life could be likened to a hamster and her Ferris wheel. I desperately wanted to just lie in bed and be morose. ‘Lazy Song’ by Bruno Mars started playing in my head and usually, when that happens, I just go with the flow. It took the whole of my will power to get up and do my daily routine. For me, that is starting by reading the day’s news and checking what is trending on social media. It ends with a shower, wearing whatever is at the top of my box and heading out to the office. The cold shower turned out to be exactly what I needed to lift my spirits! I was suddenly busting with ideas and content to put out. I couldn’t wait to pour a little of myself into the universe. Some days, you have to find your own motivation to get out of bed. There are days when it will be so hard that there seems to be no point to it. And ‘adulting’ is so difficult! But if you give in to the darkness, the sorrow, the sadness or the depression, you will be denying the universe some of the wonder that is yourself. So find your motivation today; whether it is GOD, money, food, work, family, someone, or yourself. Keep the darkness at bay. Get a spring in your step and give some of your you to us! Vrede!
The Truly Intelligent One
People read their posts And say to themselves ‘Oh! What intelligence! What intellectuals!’ They click ‘Like’ Or ‘love’ or ‘haha’ But no one knows Everything they put up Is stolen from The truly intelligent one Ramatu Ada Ochekliye 13.04.2017
She Fell in Love…With Her Best Friend
Image: Rawpixel It all started like a bad joke in a boring movie. Kayla had gone to see her boyfriend when she bumped into him. He was tall and big; exactly how she liked her men. She smiled and said hello. He did the same. As she walked past him, she mentally noted that his voice was soft, smooth…almost like he was shy. Her boyfriend introduced them later. Terver. Terver Aondowase. Like she would remember the last name. What she did remember was the array of books in his livingroom. ‘Oh my God! Your Deen Koontz’s collection is legit!’ she said as she caressed his books. Then she remembered. He was a stranger! And she just acted a fool. She blushed clear to her thick afro roots and pulled her hands back to herself. ‘It is okay. Big fan?’ Kayla nodded shyly. Kayla’s boyfriend saw the exchange, looked from one to the other and declared, ‘You book lovers amaze me. Please, before you cum all over his books, come and be going oh!’ Kayla laughed. So did Terver. They were embarrassed; but not for themselves. Kayla took ‘One Door Away From Heaven’, looked at it longingly and returned it to the shelf. ‘You could borrow it if you want. You just have to promise to return it in one piece.’ ‘Don’t give her. She is control spoil. She will return your book in tatters.’ And though Kayla’s boyfriend was right, she gave him a stink look and turned to Terver. ‘I promise to take care of your book if you promise to allow me access to all of them.’ Terver smiled and nodded. As Kayla walked out of the room, she couldn’t have been happier. It wasn’t until she got outside that she remembered her manners. She rushed back into the compound, went to Terver’s flat and knocked. ‘May I have your number? I mean…you just gave me your book without guaranteeing you can get it back. How many books have you lost this way?’ came tumbling out as soon as he opened the door. Terver smiled. He took out his phone and gave her. She dialed her number and returned his phone to him. ‘We will be fast friends, Terver.’ And she was gone. And soon they were. It started with a private message she sent to him. Soon they were talking about any and everything. Their conversations were easy, free flowing and, if Kayla admitted to herself, a battle of wits. He was painfully sarcastic and she was titillated by his intelligence. They spoke every day; first thing in the morning and last thing before they slept. And though they only saw each other once in a while, they couldn’t be any closer. Then one day she texted him; or more appropriately, sexted. It was supposed to be a battle of wits. They had to continue each sentence with the last word from the other person. Whoever got stuck first, lost, and had to forfeit something valuable. When they started, it was fun. Then it wasn’t. Kayla felt the moisture pool in her nether region as the sexts became raunchier. She could barely breathe with how much she wanted him. But he was her friend! When did this move from playful banter to full blown sexual awakening? ‘I yield. You, dear sir, are too much for me and if I continue, I may have to jump you physically. I declare you the winner. Your intelligence turns me on.’ ‘Sapiosexual.’ ‘Huh?’ Kayla wondered what he was about. ‘Sapiosexual. Turned on by intelligence. That is what you are.’ And Kayla knew Terver was right. ‘Can I be real with you?’ she typed, anticipating his response. ‘Always.’ ‘I think we crossed an unwritten line.’ ‘I think so too.’ ‘So are we going to…?’ ‘Do you want to?’ Kayla breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. A minute passed as she stared at her phone. Their sync was so good that they didn’t need to spell out what they saying. That, more than anything else, scared her. ‘Yes.’ *** Two years after they slept together, they were still friends. Best friends now. They shared everything and were each other’s support system. Once in a while, they flirted and sexted but it was more for fun than anything else. Kayla however began to notice that Terver became a bit withdrawn. The calls began to dwindle and when they did talk, he sounded cool; no…cold. She tried to get him to talk but he wasn’t forthcoming. So she gave him space. The first full day they didn’t speak to each other was torture for Kayla. She wanted to pull her hair out. She wanted to drop her pride and call him. She wanted to connect in whatever way. But she stayed resolute. And then it started. One day became a week. A week a month. A month two years. Then he called her. ‘Who is this?’ like she had not memorized his number. ‘Terver. Can we talk?’ *** He was dating someone. Had been all the time they were friends. That was not news to Kayla; she had been dating someone too. Though he loved his girlfriend, he had fallen for Kayla. And though he loved her, they couldn’t be together. She was what he wanted, but his girlfriend was what he needed. She fit the life his parents chose for him; a choice he had to get on board with because it was his duty. For them, marriage was not about love but about solidifying empires. ‘But I didn’t ask you to marry me! We weren’t even dating. Why would you think I would want that?’ ‘Because eventually, it would have gone there.’ ‘No. I wanted my friend! That is all. You were my best friend, my confidante, my support system. We may have had sex – ONCE – but you were my friend! And you left.’ And he did leave. To protect her. His father had sent him a tape with a note. ‘You know what to do.’ The tape
Why Do Men So Easily Harass Women?
Men in Yaba Market (Nigeria) harassing a woman for demanding an end to street harassment.Credit: Market March Most women have been sexually harassed one way or the other. This could be in the market, at work, in schools or just walking down the street. Some women have come to expect it as part of their lives. Before I go on my rant – and this is going to be a rant – defining what it means to be sexually harassed is the first call of duty. 1. Sexual Harassment: Unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and or other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature that tends to create a hostile or offensive work environment Legal Dictionary, The Free Dictionary by Farlex Uninvited and unwelcome verbal or physical behavior of a sexual nature especially by a person in authority toward a subordinate (as an employee or student) Merriam Webster Dictionary 2. Street Harassment: Street harassment is a form of sexual harassment that consists of unwanted comments, gestures, honking, wolf-whistling, catcalling, exposure, following, persistent sexual advances, and touching by strangers in public areas such as streets, shopping malls, and public transportation. Wikipedia I have a couple of stories to back this up. I went to Sabo Market in Kaduna recently with my sister Enigbe. The walkways were packed full with people doing their shopping. As we passed by a man selling clothes, I felt someone pat my butt and grab my hand. ‘Baby…come to my shop now.’ I was so mad in danger of popping a vein. I didn’t care that I was in the market. I went ham and warned him to never touch me. The idiot removed his hand and went, ‘Who touch you? If I want touch person, na you I go touch?’ to which some of the men around guffawed. He went to further to say, ‘you no even happy say I touch you. As you dey like this, you no happy say I touch you.’ This elicited more laughter from his fellow market men. I kept ranting which seemed to make them even happier. The women on the other hand looked away. Not only did the man harass me and lie about it, he made a U-turn, admitted to doing it and tried to shame me for not basking in his repulsive and wanton behavior. It wasn’t until I got to the shop I wanted to go to that a woman said, ‘My sister, no mind them. Na so them dey do.’ That statement made me even angrier than I could have thought possible. In another instance, my friend Ruth and I were walking under the Ikeja Bridge to go do our hair. As we set out to cross the road, we were cut off by this bus which deliberately swerved towards us. We stood where we were and the bus slowed; almost to a crawl. The conductor was saying stuff in Yoruba – which I didn’t understand – but seemed bad enough that Ruth cussed him out. The laughter from the bus driver and conductor made me ask what was said. ‘The goat was talking about what he will do to me with his penis.’ Ruth retorted. I asked her why she had even bothered to answer them but then realized I was also playing the game of ‘unlooking’; like the women who didn’t say anything when I was being harassed. When I was in the university, we had this Chemistry Lecturer that was known for his randy behavior. Rumor had it that he chose specific types of women each semester; light skinned, dark skinned, Muslim, Christian, Tall, Short and the list goes on. What wasn’t a rumor was what I witnessed myself. We were writing examinations in 100L and he was invigilating. He would randomly walk about and touch girls inappropriately. I was sitting with my friends Grace and Hasiya when he came by us. Grace had warned us about his reputation and told us not squirm or risk becoming his victim. So when he touched Grace’s hair, she smiled and said ‘Well done, sir’. He came to me and touched my arm and I said, ‘Good morning, sir’. He moved away and touched Hasiya on her lower back and she squirmed and frowned. When he saw this happen, he laughed. Unfortunately, Hasiya’s phone was in her pocket and though switched off, the man reached in to her pockets, pulled it out and said he had caught Hasiya cheating in her exams. Knowing Ahmadu Bello University, that offence was punishable by expulsion or rustication at best. We went to beg him but he laughed at our faces. He said Hasiya should come and beg him alone or lose her phone. When Hasiya realized he hadn’t made a formal complaint, she left the phone with him and didn’t get it until after two semesters. That was just one of the harassments I witnessed with this man. While this may not classify as harassment per se, I still label it as such. Ever walked into a restaurant or hotel or event location where there are predominantly men and get stared the hell down from your very first step until you fall (thankfully) into your seat? I hear men say it is a compliment to stare at a woman like that because it shows she is hot. Ermm…NO! It isn’t a compliment unless a woman loves the attention. But even at that, it is wrong to just stare at someone when you can glance at them and look away. Staring is rude! I know even the most confident men would not appreciate been stared at if they walk into a room full of women. If a man can get uncomfortable, why do you think a woman wouldn’t? Recently on Twitter, women across Nigeria and Africa complained about the sexual harassment they have been subjected to in the office, at school, in the markets, at restaurants and just about every other place. The stories were horrifying and quite frankly, scary. It seems that where
Don’t Ask Me When I Am Getting Married. Or Else…
The pressure has begun; in earnest. ‘Ramat, when is your wedding? When will you settle down? When are we coming to eat your own cake?’ These are the questions I keep getting from family, ‘friends’ and acquaintances. In their view, I am no longer a young ‘girl’ and this means that I should be married now, settled into my role as wife and eventually, mother. I shouldn’t be traipsing about in the name of ‘chasing career’. In fact, I was told that I shouldn’t chase career at the expense of marriage and motherhood. All of this however, is not surprising. If I am being truthful to myself, I would admit that it is kind of expected. I have written about this one too many times to not expect that I would be at the receiving end as I get older. But expecting it doesn’t make it any less maddening. It always amazes me how my decision to get married (or not) affects people so much so that they think I need an intervention. Usually, when asked these questions, I have three answers depending on who you are. 1. To family, I say I do not want to rush into an institution like marriage until I am willing to go all the way and until I have found someone whose entire being and essence, including all the horrible (HORRIBLE) parts, are things I can handle for the rest of my life. 2. I tell ‘friends’ that I may not get married and get a kick out of watching their expressions as they digest what I said; and 3. If an acquaintance has the effrontery to ask when I am getting married, I look at them pointedly and ask how it affects their lives. Like seriously, how does it?! While my true answer is a combination of all these, it isn’t the whole story. I grew up witnessing only unhappy marriages. Some of them bore their cross, others left. In all these, the children suffered the consequences of their parents’ poor marriages. Even the homes I thought were happy had their problems and were sometimes just a façade. So, I really don’t want to be married at all if it means not ensuring my children grow up in a safe, loving and majorly happy environment. I also don’t consider marriage the achievement-for-women most people think it is. In my view, it isn’t an achievement, a goal or something to aspire to. I view it as a part of my life and not the whole. But more than anything, I see the level of unhappiness in marriages and I want to hold off as long as I can; that is if I do. Have you also noticed that the people who are always clamouring for your wedding are usually the ones with the saddest marriages? Misery they say… Anyway, my family always tells me that just because something didn’t work for others doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work for me. I agree with that completely. I may just be the one who gets a happy marriage (*scoffs). What are the odds of that happening? I believe that marriage is full time work and until I am sure I am ready to make the sacrifices necessary to make that work, work…I am not going to fret or oblige anyone by jumping the broom. When I say this, I am always told that time is not on my side: that when I am ready, I may not get the type of man I want, and age doesn’t flatter a woman. I must admit that in some regard, they are right. As I have grown older, the pool of men who used to ‘toast’ me have greatly reduced. It reduces further when the ones left hear I am a feminist. It reduces even further when they hear I am keeping my name (*laughing my head off) but in all, they are proving me, not my family or friends, right. I will age and lose my beauty. Should my ‘husband’ who fell in love with my youth be expected to stay when that happens? What prevents him from chasing a younger girl when I am no longer fresh and peng? I won’t stop being a feminist – contrary to what most peoplethink would happen – so it is better the guy runs away before he even gets started. And I will always be Ramatu Ada Ochekliye. If he doesn’t get it, why do I need to be married to him anyway? So, I have come to the conclusion that people will always bug me about getting married until I do. Even at that, they won’t stop. The next thing will be when I give birth to my first child…and the next…and the next. That is their prerogative; as inappropriate as it is. However, as I am living my life for me and would be held accountable for all my decisions, I would do what I want with it! Thank you very much! Now…to the very stubborn people who cannot take a cue even if it slaps them in face with its tentacles, let me lay it out plainly to you. If you do not have a happy marriage, don’t ever ask me when I am going to get married. If per chance you do, I promised I will use the knowledge of your unhappy marriage to clap back at you. It would go something like this; ‘Awww…I am sure you are SO happy in your marriage that is why your husband is sleeping with undergrads at the university he works’ or ‘I am inspired by your marriage. Knowing how bored your wife is with you makes me want to marry as quickly as possible’. So the caveat here is, if want to ask about how soon I am getting married, make sure your relationship can pass through my fire. Or better still, mind your business! Thank you! PS: Dear family, I was not talking to you oh! You can ask me anytime you
