STONE COLD HAVEN

So a few weeks ago while relaxing with some friends, I was asked to consider talking some sense into a dead beat dad – who for all intents and purposes, had left a poor girl at the traffic lights, literally holding the baby.

I guess I was only asked when it turned out that I actually went to high school with the said dead beat dad. You’ll be surprised how 6 degrees of separation can make the world smaller than it really seems.

I think we were talking about how kids change people’s lives – and one conversation too many ended up with the story of my former schoolmate. The said girl abandoned at the traffic lights is his ex-missus, so you can just picture where this conversation went short of wishing that she had actually been with us at the time.

I’ll plead the 5th amendment right here on going into the specific story of this couple for the simple reason that there’s a very high possibility that they will be directed to read this post.

I don’t consider myself a marriage counsellor, but for what it’s worth, I thought that this once, I’d provide a public service based on my experience and that of my peers. If it helps even one girl to make better choices in men – or convinces even one other guy to take care of responsibilities, then the post is most definitely worth my time.

It’s certainly easier than sitting down to talk sense to – you know who.

Girls, here’s 5 Stone Cold sure fire ways to identify a dead beat dad from a mile off.

1. Follow your instincts

God gave you instinct to protect you from the evil in this world. Use the damn instincts and save yourself from the world.

The best advice you can ever get is not to get yourself into certain situations especially when all your faculties are telling you that it’s plain madness. Your body is wired to be selective and to use any stimuli it can to detect what is inherently dangerous for you.

You have signs all over that only you choose to ignore – habits, what he says, what he does, the choices he makes, the risks he takes – even his scent gives you an indication about how dangerous the proposition is.

Let’s get one thing out of the way – you’re not going to totally avoid danger. There’s no such thing as zero risk. Everything you do is risky.

Even for a guy, looking at a girl’s ass is risky because it presents options not previously available. For a girl, the risks are different. I’m just saying listen to your instincts and minimize that risk.

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Experience has shown that there are some statements that trigger absolute fear and paranoia in the male species when uttered or suggested by women.

Let me give you a few examples:

“When you look at me, what do you see?” – (Read: WTF! What the hell do you want from me)
“Sweetie, we’ve got to talk…I missed my period” (Read: OK!?! What does this mean – do you think its possible that there’s any other explanation apart from the fact that you’re suggesting you’ve conceived)
“It’s OK dear…I brought my toothbrush”) (Read: Oh shit! Next its the underwear, earrings, shoes, and then the pictures – I can deal with the others…but God! The pictures – that just has a feeling of finality)

But the most dreaded, and believe me it happens – is when she nonchalantly mentions that “Oh! By the way, I had lunch with your mum”, hoping that you won’t notice.

Case Study 1:

Let’s call him Adundo (clearly not his real name, but he’ll understand my sarcasm in using this name). Adundo is a very good pal who lives in America, and recently met this girl who for the sake of expediency (both are likely to read this blog post), I’ll say had a booty call arrangement with Adundo.

This past December, the girl jetted to Kenya for a long planned Christmas break, and just returned to the US. It was during that excitement of being back and racing for the usual dose of booty that the girl decided to throw in the “…by the way, I had lunch with your mum” thing….

Unsurprisingly, Adundo’s next conversation with his mum was somewhat uncomfortable especially with the mum adding fuel to this unplanned camp fire with suggestions like “She’s a nice girl you know, very intelligent and she looks like she comes from a good family”…or “you know Adundo, back in the day, we women were not that forthright and it was up to the man to show an interest and make the move towards the next step”….Adundo is still traumatized of course as to how this girl pulled off this ambush – but I keep telling him, don’t look far….LOL! Your sister is a probable conspirator, especially if she pretends she doesn’t know a damn thing.

Case Study 2

Steve was doing his masters in London and had planned to go back home soon after. I was with him at a party where he met this lovely lady who was on holiday in London, but soon to return to her duty station (she’s Kenyan but worked abroad). One thing led to another and a holiday romance blossomed with Luther Vandross’ philosophy of ‘Love the one your with’.

Before Steve could say the word ambush – his sister back in Kenya was unleashing congratulations and praises. “Your ‘girlfriend’ came home and met mum…she’s really nice, and I’m glad you told her where I worked otherwise she wouldn’t have found us”…LOL! “She even bought mum a really nice present from Malaysia – mum loves it”….”So are you going to marry her?”

I don’t know if girls realise that there are some ambushes that are totally unacceptable, below the belt and totally unsavoury. And they can be pretty convincing too, evidenced by the fact that the guys mums wax lyrical about the prospective daughter in law…what happened to the good old fashioned days of courting where a couple were left to their own devices without drafting in a guy’s mum? LOL! At least give a jamaa a chance to turn you down before drafting in reinforcements – coz’ clearly, once the mum is on the case, it becomes the topic of all conversation when you make the weekly, fortnightly, or monthly call home. “How is the lovely lady doing? I hope she’s taking care of you very well – she said you sometimes don’t eat well”….WTF!

God forbid she drafts in the guys father too LOL!….C’mon girls, play fair on our brothers.

This post is inspired by my cousin who was lamenting a few days ago about the stresses of being a woman. A seemingly innocuous comment on Facebook about being tired of cleaning up that night somewhat developed a life of its own with folks of different persuasion throwing in their 2 cents.

I shared a true story of a time I visited a friend, and we had some takeout dinner. After dinner, there was that awkward moment characterised by that “what the fuck are we gonna do with these dishes” faces, as we pretended not to notice that they needed dealing with – and I naively asked if he had a dish-washer. His reply was delivered in a clinical and blunt fashion – “Yeah! She’s in Dubai, she’ll be back next week” (referring to his other half of course….Why lie, that response was damn funny, but also tragic in its own way, but nevertheless, damn funny.

I guess as men, we rarely take the time to think of all the hoops our women have to jump just to make it through the day. I can see that look of “what the fuck would you know, you’ll never be a woman who has to balance the many demands made on us daily. True – but it’s also not unreasonable for me to have an opinion from a different perspective, that’ while not experiential, I’m sure will add to the mix and controversy. So as I quickly sip from the glass next to me (and glance backwards looking out for the feminishta and destinys children brigade thinking of wielding axes this way), I’m going to take a shot in the dark to see if I can capture a snapshot of the dilemmas of the day (with the health warning that this is not a scientific opinion)….

• Wake up by 6.00 in the cox to make sure that stuff is ready for the kid(s) – whether its breakfast, stuff for nursery/school and all the ungodly things that folks do before they get out of the house in the morning
• Hustle through shift 1 of the day with a job that demands a lot of your energy and spirit – at a place possibly riddled with office politics, drama central, and unreasonable bosses and colleagues – not to mention the workload
• Back home to enter shift 2 and get into home maker mode – sorting out all the kids unreasonable demands, cooking, throwing in a few cleaning duties while at it, giving or ensuring the kidos have a bath, putting them to bed possibly after supervising homework or reading bed-time stories to them – and of course all this while we’re on our 4th pint, and just starting to enjoy watching the Champions league second round football match with our favourite team down the pub with the boys
• Shift 3. Enter the man from the pub, ready for his meal and the 11 o’clock late news. After which, he’ll be expecting to find you all spruced up and ready for sex. After all, as his wife, you have to fulfil his conjugal rights…and in most cases, the dude is past romancing you with at least some sweet pillow talk about absolute nothings and some sensual foreplay. Foreplay to a guy at this stage of proceedings is more like “spread your legs sweetheart and brace yourself”….and of course, you do know that when he’s through, he’s immediately rolling over and snoring into a deep slumber oblivious of your attempts next to him to salvage the frustrating experience by at least masturbating yourself to an orgasm which could well be the only highlight of your day.

Hands up if you recognize this scenario….LOL! And as someone pointed out to me…all this happens despite the fact that you have to bust your gut staying fit and looking as pretty as you can just to keep up with “the enemy”…whether the enemy is to fend off unwanted competition or not to look bad amongst your peers.

Now that I think about it, it sounds tragic. I don’t claim to have any solutions, and that’s partly because I refuse to take sole responsibility for the collective failings of the male species when it comes to appreciating (or not) our women. It’s almost like there’s a constant struggle or philosophical battle that challenges the balance between the fulfilment of the aspirations, hopes and dreams, and the unavoidable duties of being a mother, wife and lover.

It’s hard to understand how some marriages and relationships still survive, even with all the drama thrown in the mix. Our cultural background and upbringing have shaped our view of what is or what is not acceptable. while you get many women who are strong enough to take control of such situations (however they choose to do it – including leaving the marriage or relationship), there are equally those who continue to suffer in silence.

For men, maybe there’s reason enough for us to be always kept on our toes. Gone are the days where you could proudly claim to all and sundry – “that is my wife or that is my woman”. LOL! We don’t own anybody. Granted, most customs and traditions that I know of within the African context looks unfavourably at the idea of divorce, but any inspection of the number of decree absolutes issued by any local civil court will aptly illustrate that tradition and custom doesn’t cut the mustard any more when it comes to divorce. There’s someone who once said that the only woman you can claim is yours is one that you bury and can point to the grave and say with conviction – “She was my wife”.