When She Makes Up Your Mind for You.

I have quite a number of single male friends. I can count the number of my close male friends that are married on half a hand; yes, it is that bad. Sometimes I long to be able to chat with guys in the same boat as I am. So in order to help my situation, I occasionally ask my homies such questions like:

“How far? What’s up with you and that babe?”

“That Tolu babe no bad o! When una dey marry?”

“When are you getting married?”

“Guy you’ve been dating Cynthia for like two years now, when are we coming to eat rice and drink Coke?”

And what do I get in response? ....

“Bro, I’m not ready.”

“Pepper never rest o.”

“Marry who? Cynthia? Nah bruv.”

Even the ones that seem eligible and are in seemingly good relationships repeatedly say things like “I haven’t made up my mind yet”. That line has become the mantra for the single yet eligible guys in Lagos. But in closing that bit of the conversation I always tell them “Guy make up your mind, before she makes it up for you.”

Now some of you (and them) may not get what I mean by “when she makes up your mind for you”, allow me to explain. Now this is no threat but a fact: some guys are under the illusion that they call the shots in eventually deciding to marry a woman. But in some situations, that is not the case. You have been dating this girl for upwards of nine months, you are over 28, and have a good job, a nice apartment with the flat screen TV and PS3. She comes over as often as possible, cooks, cleans and performs other girlfriend and “quarter-to-wife activities. Everyone knows she is your girlfriend – your folks, your siblings, your cousins, friends and boss – but somehow somehow you have no plans to marry her; and when questions are asked as to the wedding date you mumble something in the region of “I’m not quite ready.” The sad thing is very often, many dating couples play this scenario and in the end they break up even after five years of dating. These are the ones my guys see and think that they can still call the shots. What they do not see or deliberately choose not to see are the situations where the women make up the men’s minds for them.

My dear cousin is a bit notorious for being a ladies’ man. He is doing quite well for himself and at 30 thinks that he’s got to live it up and groove until he is ready to settle down. This does not mean that he refrains from serious type relationships. He actually gets involved in serious relationships and all. The first one lasted for about three years and when he broke up with her, we (being the entire family) thought that the next one would be the one. Nay, not so. Cousin of mine began running through women like they were going out of fashion, I tried to get him to focus and all that but he was having none of it. In all other ways he was the epitome of hard work and diligence but when it came to having a good time he lived by his own rules. He then finally got into another serious relationship with another girl and after I met her a couple of times (including Christmas Day dinner at my folks’) I had to ask what his plans were. I got the same non-committed answer. The next thing I heard was that the family had intervened and hooked him up with a young lass from the “area”. I thought to myself that this might just work considering that the family was involved. I followed up with the relevant questions as to the degree of his seriousness. Again I got the same non-committed answer! At this point I had to give him the speech. He nodded and listened and said that he had heard but that he just was not ready. A few weeks later my sister buzzed me saying that girlfriend had gotten pregnant. OK. But how did my sister know? Wrong question! How did everyone know? Girlfriend was not having any of that “let’s solve this problem” option. For her it was not an option because she was under the impression that boyfriend was serious about her and as a result she had duly informed her parents about the situation. Being that family was involved, my cousin could not front. Cross level consultations were held and after a few arrangements, their introduction took place last weekend. I attended the introduction but I could not help but laugh. Serves him right, you might say, because despite all his “I’m not yet ready”, girlfriend had made up his mind for him. But the truth is (if they would ever have the guts to say so) many marriages have been brokered because despite the man’s uncertainty, the woman took in and helped to make up boyfriend’s mind.

Now, I do not mean to present women as being manipulative, in fact, my intention is rather the opposite. A girlfriend getting pregnant for her eligible boyfriend is perhaps just the little nudge or kick in the butt that homeboy really needs. Men are known to be rather indecisive when it comes to things that require a great deal of commitment, especially marriage. Insecurity, fear of the unknown, fear of change, fear of losing one’s freedom are common reasons why men hesitate on a formal, legitimate partnership. They say women prepare for marriage right from the age of 18. Men on the other hand, have no age attached to it. All men require is a great deal of maturity and the desire to move to the next step. Only boys would want the milk for free. Mature men would buy the cow and invest in it ensuring that they get excellent milk on a daily basis. Thankfully, many boys mature in marriage becoming men they were afraid of becoming. Unfortunately, a few do not and well, they tend to consciously or sub-consciously blame (or is it dislike) the girl for “forcing” them into that situation. But like I always say, nothing is by force; except someone puts a gun to a guy’s head to get married. I pray my cousin becomes the former by maturing into his marriage. I have not yet met the bride to be but by all indications including a summary from my sister and a look into her Facebook profile, I think she will make a good wife and mother.

So to my homies out there I think it makes you a bit more of a man if you make up your own minds and behave in tandem with your decisions, as against having her make up your mind for you, which believe me she can.

Photo credit: www.essence.com

A Woman's Worth

Deji had had enough, the whole thing was becoming a little too much and he couldn’t take it any more.

Things had really deteriorated at the office; more specifically things between him and his boss. Lately, nothing he did impressed the man. He found mistakes in everything Deji did and took forever in approving his jobs. Even Deji’s subtle tactic of passing his jobs to the other ogas in the department was wearing thin as they now refused to okay his work stressing that although they felt he had done a good job, Collins was meant to approve them. They tried to encourage him telling him how he must ‘manage’ his boss.

Manage whom? To Deji that was asking for more than he could do at the point in time. Firstly, the department was short-staffed, and he was carrying out more than one function, in short he was doing the work of three people; so where was he going to find the time to kiss his boss’ ass? Secondly, he got along well with the other team heads and ogas in the department without any ass-kissing so why was this particular ass so special?

Deji was in the creative team of his department which called for churning out of good marketing communication ideas for the organization. Creativity required a high degree of equanimity of the mind and soul and he was not getting any of it in his department. Since Chisom went on maternity leave he also had the added responsibility of dealing with the media guys and the Director’s correspondence; requests which came in at odd times of the day and week with all sorts of near impossible deadlines. Well, this was what he signed up for and he could handle it; as they say ‘work no dey end.’ But the ass-kissing? Sorry, no can do.

Deji was one of those people who believed that one’s work should speak for one’s capabilities and not any other thing. Choosing his friends carefully, he was civil and cordial to others in the company making him the nice guy.

Now one of Deji's colleagues, Stella would often come into his office to see him under the pretext of making enquiries. Stella was relatively new in the company having just spent three months and they got on pretty well. They sometimes had lunch together in the cafeteria and talked. She liked Deji as he made her laugh. Deji found her very attractive and often told her so. She would then laugh and remind Deji that she had a fiancé in the UK who was coming back soon to take her to the altar. Deji in response told her that he had a girlfriend and was quite content with just looking at her. Stella and Deji’s friendship would sometimes attract friendly jibes from his colleagues which he took good naturedly without being overly defensive.

One day he found himself in a situation where his boss gave him a query for some unfinished tasks which had exceeded their deadlines. The HoD was copied in the query. Deji explained to the HoD that he had actually finished some of them but was yet to pass them on to Collins for approval. The others had not been completed because Collins had earlier told him to put them on the backburner as they were of lower priority.

The HoD did not buy into Deji’s explanation. How could he? When Deji could not explain why his boss constantly refused to approve his work, or why he sometimes took weeks to look at a draft or dummy or why he was also in the habit of misplacing Deji’s painstaking marketing plans. Deji responded to the memo with the promise to improve on meeting his deadlines.

A few weeks later another issue came up and Collins ranted and raved threatening Deji with a poor performance evaluation and non-promotion for the year. Deji could not bear the thought of not being promoted. He had never failed at anything in his life and he was not going to start now. He quietly dropped his letter with the Human Capital Department and without telling too many people, he resigned his appointment. He had had enough. He did not need anyone to kill his spirit or destroy what little confidence he had in himself. There were easier ways to make money in this town.

Two months later, Deji found another job with a media firm. He took a pay cut but got his confidence and game back making considerable contributions to his new employer. He still kept in touch with some of his former colleagues especially Stella who had found it a bit hard to understand why he left so suddenly and why he had not confided in her. He reminded her that he was not her boyfriend and therefore not answerable to her. She laughed at this and told him that she missed him.

He took her out to lunch one day, where they sat and were able to catch up on things. She still wanted to know why he resigned his appointment, as he had not told her. This was one question he was tired of answering. Depending on whom was doing the asking, he would explain the issues he was having with his boss and the fact that his work and ability were being called into question by the unfriendly and mean attitude of his boss. To others he gave the generic answer of wanting a new challenge and wanting to work on the media side of things. Well, he had come to see that his reasons for leaving were actually a combination of both.

After the meal, he was about to tell her the whole story when her phone rang. After a brief conversation with the person on the line where she explained that she’s having lunch with a friend, she disconnected. Deji enquired to the identity of the caller, teasing her about her fiancé. She smiled and told him that it was his former boss Collins, who had taken her out for a drinks a couple of times. She explained that they had recently become friendly after he gave her a ride home, which had become a regular thing since he lived not too far from her place. Deji had a ‘light bulb moment’ as the picture became very clear to him. The crude teasing, the looks, the veiled comments and antagonism from his boss now made sense. The possibility had never crossed his slow mind. How could he have been so blind? Stella seeing the look that briefly crossed his face, asked him what was wrong. Deji just smiled and he shook his head. She smiled and again asked him why he left the company.

Untitled

The okada came to a stop just by the side of the road. Peter dismounted and paid the okada. The bike noisily clambered along the sand strip before it joined the main road.

Peter dusted the grains of sand that had clung to his trousers during the undulating ride along one of Lagos’ finest pathways.

He took a look at the road. Good. The traffic was gradually building up. He looked at his watch, a Seckiko, his pal Jude had given it to him in lieu of the N1,000 he owed him. Cheap rubbish, the thing had begun to fade. Anyway that was not his problem today. It was 4:30pm and he had arrived early.

He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. The sun was slowly going down but still doing its job. Well, he had his to do. He swung his satchel to the front of his waist and removed his fez cap from it. Hat on head, he rolled up his sleeves. Someone whistled in his direction. He looked up and saw Chidi, one of the competition.

“Pally, how far?” Chidi said in greeting.

“I just dey come o.”

“How your people?”

“Dem dey, we thank God.”

Peter wasn’t sure he was happy that Chidi got there before him but sometimes it was not about the early bird but about who had the sharpest eyes and his eyes were sharper than Chidi’s.

Peter brought out his stash from his satchel and quickly checked it. Everything was okay. He took a look at the oncoming traffic and when it slowed down a bit he darted in. He unrolled his dummy cards and looked for prospects.

He had spent an hour and was making good sales, roughly N12,500. He wiped his brow again. Looking neat was important in this business. One had to look presentable and responsible especially when it came to those girls. Yes, the ones in their new SUVs and Korean cars, looking like they did not fart. They were heavy buyers as against the men who mostly bought in N500s.

He heard a car horn. He quickly turned. It was the blue Passat that had just passed. Indecisive people, didn’t they see him before? He ran after it. The driver wound down and showed a one thousand naira note. Airtel he guessed. He caught up with the car as it slowed down.

“Please, give me one Zain, one thousand.” He guessed right. He was getting good at this. He could predict within a good degree of accuracy the network provider a particular person wanted to buy.

Ssssiii! He looked up. A woman in a danfo was beckoning to him. Mmm…. Glo, five hundred. He crossed to the other lane just missing an okada man. “You no dey see?!” the okada man spat at he whizzed by. “You sef, you blind?!” he shot back.

“Abeg, give me Glo, five hundred.” Another satisfied customer.

Where was Chidi? He searched. He spied Chidi further down the road trying to pick up the ones he had missed. It was getting dark and he was thirsty too. He saw Sunny the guy selling drinks. “Sunny, you get water for there?” “No o, e don finish, na only soft drinks remain.” No, that was above his budget. He would look out for the other guys who sold drinks.

He really could not afford to be reckless with his money. Especially now that Helen, his girlfriend had told him she was pregnant! Chei! God had caught him! It had been a surprise to him but he had taken it like a man. It must have been those few times they did it without a condom. Na wa! Just like that? Well, he was a strong man, a goal scorer.

What would he do for money now? He needed more money. In a few months a baby would come and preparations had to be made for his first child, a boy… or a girl? Fear gripped him suddenly… maybe twins?! Ah no o! He wasn’t looking for a brace or a hat trick! He offered a silent prayer. He would have to accommodate Helen, and eventually perform the marriage rites. See wetin person come find for Lagos!

He considered his options as he was almost hit by another okada. Mmm… maybe he could buy a bike and rent it out. He had no interest riding it himself. The wahala was too much and he had witnessed a few okada accidents. Not a pretty sight. Option one.

Option two would be to take his uncle’s offer of assisting to manage his carpet shop. But was he really interested in doing that? After all, he had turned down the man’s offer and his pride would not permit him to take up something he had rejected. He wanted to be his own man and make his own money and drive a nice car like the End of Discussion that was in front of him. He looked at the driver, a young man he was sure could not be older than he. Chei! All fingers are not equal true true! Another option popped into his head as he looked on with envy; he could look for driver work! He had learnt to drive in his hometown before he came to town and he was sure that he could handle these new automatic cars. Didn’t he teach John how to drive? Now John was a driver for JB! Maybe John could help him out. Oh! He just remembered John had his WAEC while he didn’t. Enh, he could get one as a private driver, couldn’t he? But could he really do the work of a private driver? He took a look at the traffic around him. No way, he thought. Some of these ogas and madams could be nasty! He heard about one man that used to knock his driver on the head whenever he felt he had made a mistake. He had witnessed a few women shouting at their drivers too. No, it wasn’t for him. He had too much pride for that kind of rubbish. But he thought about his situation and reconsidered the option, after all na condition make crayfish bend. Money, money, money.

He heard an approaching siren and quickly got his bearings. Another big man was passing slowly but surely as the other car owners moved aside to allow the convoy to pass. Peter always wondered how space was always readily made available for the siren blaring police officers, military men, commissioners, council chairmen, etc. wait o! Couldn’t he join the police or the army? Maybe even the air force? No, his mother would disown him. Besides could he go and fight in a war if he was ordered to? Mba, no.

It had gotten dark and it suddenly looked like rain. He did a quick mental calculation. He had sold about N37,000 worth of recharge cards in three and a half hours. It was time to go home before he tempted fate. What with thieving policemen, taskforce raiders and okada riding thieves it made sense to call it a day.

It began to drizzle. He looked around for a free okada. The traffic had really built up and people were moving bumper to bumper. The road was bad and grossly inadequate for the volume of traffic it carried. And all these people will wake up at 4am to leave early for work again tomorrow?! He felt sorry for them. Anyway he had his own problems.

He hailed a passing okada, spoke with the aboki briefly and asked him to go. Nonsense! The guy couldn’t understand or speak English and he was rather young. No be me e go kill today!

He was beginning to get wet. It is going to be a cold night he thought. He quickly found another okada, negotiated with the guy and rode on home where Helen was waiting.

Memories of Being in Love

As Valentine’s Day rolled past I found myself thinking of all the previous Valentines that I ever had. The thoughts strolled past like a slow-motion collage of faces, people, events and emotions. The thoughts eventually became sessions on if I had ever really loved any of the ladies I was involved with at the time. Sure. Of course I had to be in love with them for me to have Val’d them, right? Hang on; let me think about that….

For me loving someone and being in love with someone are two different things; like Beyonce Knowles’ Brown Eyes and Dangerously in Love. Truth is, I have loved a few women but may have actually been in love with only two of them. Doesn’t make sense, does it? Okay, please read me out!

This is just not a case of semantics as some of you may argue, but it is a case of properly defining my emotions. How many of you can remember what it is like to be in love with someone? And no, I am not referring to your ability to love someone. I mean love that makes you break all your rules; the kind that turns you into a hopeless fool? Yes, it is that crazy love that I am referring to; the love that was probably your first (or second) relationship. I do not know how it was for you but I sure know how it was for me.

I was seventeen at the time and without a serious care in the world when it happened. I had just completed secondary school and was trying my best to get into university. I remember feeling on top of the world; like I was the MAN. I mean for a girl like that to ‘agree’ for a guy like me...life could not have been better!

I remember the first time I saw her and thought to myself, “Wow!” I remember the first things she said and the way she walked away. I remember not listening to my friends who said that she was not all that. I remember these same guys telling me how fine she was a few weeks later.

I remember hours spent on the phone, talking about everything and nothing and then dropping the phone to rush a bath and head over to her place. I remember long walks, holding hands and promising my eternal undying love. I remember scouring all the shops and “malls” in VI and Ikoyi looking for that perfect Val’s Day gift. I remember my friends heaving a sigh of relief when I finally found it in some obscure shop along Awolowo Road. Memories of my first kiss still linger, the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth. I remember feeling woozy whenever she came close to me; the never dying butterflies in my tummy. I still remember her perfume like it was yesterday. I remember swearing that I would not marry someone that did not have long beautiful hair and who was less than 5ft 8 inches tall. I remember having a hole in my heart for the two weeks she had to travel out of town for her grandfather’s burial. How I managed then, I do not know. I remember the midnight calls and ‘tapping’ the phone whenever it was locked. I remember the way my heart would beat whenever she was near; and the way it would sail into the air at the sound of her voice.

I remember trying to explain things to my folks because they did not approve. I was too young they said; and what were we always talking about for hours on the phone? I remember fighting and breaking up for six months and how it tore me apart. Better still I remember making up and promising not to be a jerk again. I remember being far away in university and all I could think about was her. I remember sharing all I knew about life; I remember the way she would look at me full of admiration and love. I remember the day she said I was the best thing that ever happened to her. I remember telling her that I would always love her and knowing that I meant it too! I remember seeing her cry and how it gutted me. How she held my hand and told me she loved me. I remember her telling me that she was seeing some other guy and how she was sorry about it. I remember feeling that I could forgive her anything and doing just that. I remember taking out time before each exam paper to call her to tell her how I felt about her, the paper and all. I remember the letters written back and forth over the years. I remember happiness, joy and a high degree of satisfaction with life.

I remember fighting with my mum who disapproved and not talking to her for a month.

I remember the competition, and how at the time I was too confident to notice him. I remember the night it ended, three years later with the competition being present. I remember the un-replied letters and the unreturned phone calls. I remember the emptiness and the pain and the feeling that the earth had stopped spinning and the world had stopped making sense. I remember the reasons she gave that were excuses really, and then the silence. I remember going about like a zombie without a zeal for life.

I remember swearing I would not let it happen to me again. I remember hardening my heart and dwelling on my pain. I remember becoming insensitive and chauvinistic and un-chivalrous. I remember having a cynical smile whenever she said I love you. I remember putting me first; seeing how it would end just as it was beginning.

I remember trying to pull myself out of the doldrums. I remember finding it difficult to trust her again. I remember not giving my all, swearing that “she won’t do me the same way that she did me.” I remember going through the motions.

I remember growing up and coming out of it and letting my feelings show. I remember trying very hard and having some success with love again. I remember finding other reasons to smile, to laugh and let it all hang out.

In the end, I remember learning how to love someone new with all my heart. Yes, but never quite remembering how to be crazy in love again with all my heart.

Yes, I still remember.

Knowing She’s The One

A friend of mine asked me to do this - a short write up on how a man can know for certain that the woman he has chosen to marry is THE ONE. He says that since I have recently acquired for myself a wife, I would be in a better position to enlighten a single brother in identifying or knowing for sure whether the one he is currently with is THE ONE.

Ter (that’s my friend’s name); first of all there isn’t any formula to knowing whether the woman you are dating is THE ONE. For real, man. I’m not going to tell you that God revealed it to me in a dream after a few days of dry fasting or through my pastor or my mother’s best friend’s cousin. Oh no. It doesn’t come easy. The truth is you pick your life partner based on a number of reasons, mostly selfish ones of course. Believe me, that’s what I did.

Backing up a little, I suggest you read the article “What Men Want” on my blog to understand where I’m coming from. You see, people erroneously think men and women get married because of the feeling of butterflies in their tummies when they are with each other or the euphoric, passionate feelings shared between them. Wrong. Sometimes, It’s mostly the practical things that count. Do you have shared interests? Do you have parallel goals? Are you supportive of her pursuing a career in art? Does she make you want to be a better person? Is she helping you fulfill your emotional and psychological needs? Is he a better manager than you are? Will you be a good father figure to her children? Can either of you make a major sacrifice in order to make the other happy? What I’m saying is that you base your decisions on the practical functions of the ‘partnership’ because that is what it is – a partnership. A partnership that works easily leads to solemnization of the union.

Before you say I’m trying to sell you some horseshit think about this: men and women also get married for different reasons. The first and most tenable reason is “She’s pregnant”, (sound familiar, anyone?). Another is, “Oh! He’s from my hometown”; or “Our families have been great friends for years”; or “My biological clock was ticking fast so when George asked I didn’t hesitate to say yes”. More examples follow:
“He’s quite wealthy; he works with an oil company!”
‘She’s exactly what I want in a woman.’
And the ubiquitous, “I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”


There are a lot more reasons I’m sure you have come across and the thing is majority of them are selfish!

Ter, what happens is that for whatever reason you decide to take someone as your wife and you go ahead to propose to her, from that day she begins to ‘feel’ like THE ONE. For some people this ‘feeling’ even occurs way before the proposal! Have you not been in a relationship that you were so sure was going to the altar and then all of a sudden you guys break up and the relationship is irreparably irreconcilable? What happened to the ‘feelings’ of assuredness? Truth is, finding and choosing whom you are going to marry is sometimes like deciding whether or not to take that job offer or not. Think about it: you’ve been in school all your life, you study a particular ‘course’, graduate and begin the ‘job hunt’. You apply to all the best places and get rejected by some (or all). You keep trying and based on your ‘qualifications’ you get invited for that test or interview to see if you are what they are looking for. You on the other hand might have just ‘applied’, trying your luck to see if they will pity you and take you in. Then you get the offer! But you ask yourself “Is this what I want?” No? You then go ahead to reject the offer. Or you actually take the offer and three months down the line you tell yourself that you should have been a bit more patient as the job is not as fantastic as you thought it might be; besides there’s an opening at Microsoft. Or you just found out that you would rather be in ‘entertainment’ instead of ‘finance’. Thankfully, for some people, they know that the job’s right for them and go into it head-on, sometimes they are so sure that they are even willing to sign employment bonds!

So Ter, I cannot tell you if the woman you are with currently is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Choosing a partner is like every (major) decision in life, you have to use more of your head than your heart or your hormones! Do I buy now or do I sell? Do I go to work today or not? Do I study Medicine or Dentistry? Do I vote for Obama or McCain? But I’ll tell you this: be selfish, think of yourself first. Again, that’s what I did!

Okay, before my wife reads this and all hell is let loose, I think it will be expedient for me to explain what I mean by being selfish. I had been in a few relationships before I met my wife and some of them were filled with emotional blackmail and drama of all kinds where I had to work extra hard to make them work. I set out to please and please and please; always putting them first and suffering for it at the same time. Men excuse it and say “It’s part of the runs.” Yeah right, if that is what you want to call it! Me? I put my foot down and decided to put myself first. Yes, I was called selfish but it was no skin off my nose. I saw what I wanted and went for it, not at all costs but at a calculated cost. And see now I’m reaping the rewards.

So Ter, the natural question you would want to ask is “So, is my wife THE ONE?” Mmmm… that’s like asking if Jesus is the Son of God, you know. There is only so far logic and tangible factors can take you. It gets to a point where faith steps in. Like the Lighthouse Family song goes ‘Baby I know you’re the first thing I believe in honestly/ how the earth grows/ what you can’t see/ but it’s a question of faith!/ Baby I know you’re the first thing I believe in honestly/ said you don’t know enough about me/ but it’s a question of faith!’ I totally believe in her, who she is, what she stands for and the role she plays in my life. I don’t think anyone else can be her in my life. I’m addicted to her and I love her. And oh yes, she changed me.

So in conclusion Ter, do you believe in her? Is she THE ONE?

In Defence of Big Beautiful Women

For many years we have been inundated with the idea of the perfect woman. I am sure that as you read this, you have already conjured in your mind, the idea of the ‘perfect’ woman. Forgive me as I do not intend to mislead; I use the term ‘perfect’ loosely to illustrate my point.

Foreign as well as local media through various channels have conjured up and determined that the perfect physical look for a woman is a nice, slim size 6 figure. For those of you that are as clueless as I once was when it comes to women’s dress sizes, a size 6 is say a Kate Henshaw (before she was married I daresay) while a size 14 is say a Stella Damasus-Aboderin and so on.

So young women over the world have been encouraged to look slim and trim to be considered beauties. Fashion shows and magazines, movies, beauty pageants, have all indoctrinated the thin look as the chic and perfect look sometimes leading to extreme situations involving young girls in the grip of eating disorders, anorexia and bulimia. Even health and fitness gurus have not helped the situation with some of them outrightly supporting the notion that slim and thin equals healthy! Believe me I have known big ladies who are stronger, healthier and fitter than their opengele looking counterparts.

Now as a hot-blooded Nigerian man, I think I need to set the record straight and voice out a preferred ideal of the ‘perfect’ woman in a physical sense. I present to you - Big Beautiful Black Women or BBBWs as those of us aficionados like to refer to them.

Now please don’t get me wrong, slim women can be beautiful in their own way, you agree? Right, it’s the same way that Big Beautiful Black Women can be beautiful in their own way. Truth be told: Nigerian men love their BBBWs. Ask Dbanj and Wande Coal just what they were thinking when they wrote and sang Booty Call. Just think about it: BBBWs have twice the regular size of everything – attack defence and everything in between; more to play with if you ask me. Take a look at them, their big bones and smooth skin, though fleshy in many places call out to black men. Check out those curves, the roundness, the smoothness, the vastness! I do not intend to be overly graphic but I just can’t help it. A friend of mine affectionately refers to the fleshy parts of his wife’s body as ‘love handles’. He says they give him something to hold on to.

Indeed, some men swear by BBBWs and will not have anything to do with a woman who is not ‘robust’. They are their preferred ideal. They are attractive and have an aura of ability and confidence about them. They remind us of our mothers or aunties. They look ready to take on just about anything that comes their way. And have you noticed that BBBWs have the prettiest faces and loveliest smiles? Don’t take my word for it, make it a point of duty to observe and confirm these facts. They do not have to be half naked to look sexy. Everything good is everywhere. Case in point is a friend of mine who is a size 22; she is quite beautiful and men appreciate this even to the point where two car owners were involved in a minor bumper to bumper incident as they jostled to give her a ride to her destination.

Lately, the musical videos shot overseas by some Nigerian artistes have no appeal for me as they are filled with anorexic looking women trying to shake what they do not have! It’s laughable really. What I want to see is a video with luscious looking wholesome women. Men must be honest for once; I am ready to stake my reputation on this: that every Nigerian man has or had a crush on a BBW as they were growing up. I had a crush on one of my teachers in secondary school, simply because she was BIG and BEAUTIFUL.


Another point to note is that this does not apply only to black women but big beautiful women of other races as well. For example, I like Sara Ramirez who plays Dr. Callie Torres in the hit drama series Grey’s Anatomy; she’s a Latin beauty. Chandra Wilson who plays Dr. Miranda Bailey is the very epitome of a beautiful, strong and lovable Yoruba woman if you ask me. Okay, you did not ask me.

So if anyone agrees with me, let’s all show some love to all the BBBWs that we know, in our families, neighbourhoods and offices and grab some great big hugs in the process. Don’t worry, they won’t break any bones!

The Demystification of Woman

The hit single by the British ex-soldier James Blunt, You’re Beautiful lends some support to this write up. You may wonder what the lyrics of this popular (and sometimes annoying) song have to do with a strangely titled article. Hold your horses as this will become clear in a few lines.

I believe we are all familiar with the cycle of all unsuccessful relationships: boy meets girl; boy dates girl; boy and girl embark on a serious relationship; boy gets tired and relationship wanes; boy and girl break up.

But what exactly happens to cause the break up? You may have your own theories with regards to the peculiarities of individual cases but it’s quite simple: the woman was or became demystified.

Truth is, a man is drawn to a woman by the strangest things; it could be the way she laughs, the way she wears her hair, her voice or the way she chews gum. It could be the way she sings off key or pitch in church or the way she sashays across the office floor. Or one of my favourites: her perfectly manicured hands or pedicures. This way the man is drawn to her, he thinks to himself, why does she chew gum that way? Why does she sing to herself as she walks about the place? How come she laughs that way? Why does she look happy (or sad) all the time? How come she’s that smart? Or that happy?

To the man, these are mysteries that need to be solved, riddles that need answers. So what does he do? He embarks on a journey of discovery, a trip to find answers to the mystery that is woman. So he goes through the usual motions of sneaking peeks and offering smiles, which soon graduate to pseudo stalking. Before long he is enthralled by her very presence, her mystique. The level and length of the mystique is dependent on the number of direct or indirect interactions and encounters they have. The man now makes his move and makes his attraction to the woman in question known.

Now this is the most crucial point of the relationship. The woman now has to make up her mind as to what degree she will reveal herself to her admirer. Women are different and while two women might be attracted a guy in the same way, they may react differently. One woman may decide that she likes the guy so much and gives him a considerable amount of ‘green light’. Of course guys are not dull so he moves in for the kill. The other woman may decide not to encourage the guy at all leaving him quite dissatisfied. Now, there are some women, who are pros at this sort of thing, they send a green and red light combination which leaves the guy very confused. But does this deter the man hunter? No, it is his duty to crack the case; to solve the mystery, so he hangs in there and tries every trick in the book.

So she gives him her number and those long conversations on the telephone start, the midnight calls, and the beautiful text messages. When he sees her name on the caller id of his phone, his heart skips a beat, he smiles at the sound of her voice. He dreams of her and doing things to her. He is encouraged as she seems to be gelling. They begin to spend more time together and except both of them are two dummies, they begin to share memories, experiences, their hopes, aspirations and dreams; where the girl does most of the talking and the guy most of the listening. You must have observed how girls like good listeners?! At this point the mystery begins to unravel; the reason for the laugh becomes known, the apparent cheerfulness explains itself, etc. Slowly but surely the woman becomes demystified and loses her air of mystery. For most guys when this happens they begin to loose interest. And ironically enough, the once sweet and attractive qualities become annoying. The once sweet smile may now appear plastic and the way she chews gum could start a fight! The guy now prefers to spend his time away from his demystified partner. Now situations may vary as men are rather different. For instance, some guys might lose interest after the first three dates; some after sleeping with the girl a couple of times and for some it may take three, ten or twenty years but what is certain is that the demystification eventually occurs and off he goes in search of the next mystery.

Now you may argue, what about the long lasting relationships and marriages? Remember that not all women are the same; some have the capacity for long term pretence or play acting; these are the ones who realise how vital it is for a woman to maintain her mystique at all times revealing only a little about herself as time passes. She keeps the man guessing and he like a dog to a bone keeps going after her expressing his interest and desire.

There are exceptions to the rule, where the man may lose interest if he senses that the woman is being too difficult or if he thinks he has a better chance at solving another ‘mystery’ someplace else. This is where a woman must learn to find a balance in order to keep her man. There is also the case of marriages which have lasted up to twenty years and more. The reasons are simple: the man is either so much in love that he turns a blind eye and ignores the fact his wife has been demystified or the woman has managed to reveal only a little at a time over the years or perhaps she keeps reinventing herself!

At this point I would like to draw the connection to James Blunt’s song mentioned above. The lyrics in the second verse go: yes she caught my eye / as I walked on by/ she could tell from my face / that I was freaking high/ and I don’t think that I’ll see her again / but we shared a moment that will last till the end. And then the chorus: you’re beautiful/ you’re beautiful/ you’re beautiful its true / I saw your face in a crowded place/ and I don’t know what to do/ 'cos I’ll never be with you.

The entire song alludes to the fact that he had just glimpsed a girl with whom he had a connection with and wishes he could be with her while also acknowledging the fact that they will never be together. Now he finds her beautiful, a girl whom he has just seen even to the point of calling her an angel. How come? It is obvious now isn’t it? He is seeing her at just face value, he has not gotten to know her yet, her imperfections, her peccadilloes, her fears, her needs etc. those things that will reveal herself to him, the things that will eventually drive him from her.

For me the best period of a relationship are those first few weeks of scoping the girl where you sneak looks and try to catch her eye; when you look forward to going to church or class knowing she will be at her usual seat. This stretches into when you two start to talk and call each other up, the first few dates up until the first kiss.

Now I know a few guys who will settle for a cordial relationship with a very beautiful and smart girl, without trying to take it to the next level. I mean the type of women that men go to war for. Why would they choose to settle for being just friends? Because they would hate to see her any less or any differently. Sometimes that old and familiar excuse, “I wouldn’t want us to spoil our friendship,” actually does hold some water.


“That thing which attracts us to a woman, rarely keeps us with her”.
- John Baker

Truth is, everything eventually becomes demystified.