First off let me just make it clear that this piece might offend some people. Lucky for me they’ll get over it….eventually.
Now that that business is out of the way here comes the fun stuff, venting! I am not a feminist, I personally don’t understand why anyone would want to be a feminist and when I hear the word ‘feminist’ the only other words that come to mind are sad, disenchanted out-of-luck middle aged or heading there women. I’m a female (though to my horror I was once called a she-male! But that’s a story for another day). Anyway seriously, women let me tell you where the source of all your troubles with men ‘who don’t understand you’ stems from. Beijing. There. Said it. Beijing.
I don’t know what possessed those hundreds of thousands of women from all over the world to go to Beijing. They could have used that time to shop. First China is already overpopulated, then the poor Chinese were forced to accommodate more people. Angry ones at that. Probably why they limited women to one baby, they didn’t want to bring more angry people into the world.
So now these bitter women went there singing they want equality, sijui their brains are just as good as men’s so they want to get the same opportunities. Mara they can open their own doors and fix their own cars. Then they topped it off with calls for solidarity, kind of like the ones that made apparently sane women take to the streets and burn their bras in the name of women’s liberation in the 1960’s. (I can bet you those with boobs bigger than my perky B-cups were not happy later, you try cleaning the floor with your double D’s just swinging all over the place and you just burnt all your bras in solidarity with your not so well endowed sister, honey they tricked you haha!)
Anyway, you know the way they say ‘mtoto akililia wembe mpe?’ so they got what they wanted. Equality. Now therein lies the problem. They wanted to be treated like men and they got it. And that’s where it all went wrong for those like myself who are not competing with men. Let’s face it, we can never be like men. God wasn’t experimenting when He, in His infinite wisdom, made women. And if I wasn’t 9 years old then, I’d’ve told them to quit being silly coz women are smarter than men anyway, though I happen to be of the opinion that the particular breed that went to Beijing might not have been. I appreciate what they were trying to do, but they went about it the wrong way. I believe in getting what I want by being calculating. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out that it’s easier to trick someone into giving you what you want rather than trying to grab it.
And because of them, men are slacking, lying around expecting you to do everything, including what they should do ati because you said you were an ‘independent woman.’
Let me just make it clear, calling yourself a smart, independent woman is a mistake. This is one of those things you keep to yourself. Of course you can change a puncture, burnt bulb, fix a clogged sink. But know it silently, don’t tell anybody! For real, telling a guy how you can handle your own bills and fix your puncture just makes him smile on the inside coz he’s thinking yay, more time and money for me and my boys.
And that’s why I’m not a feminist (you will note that I left out that part about being independent, again, know it, don’t say it). Here’s a life lesson from a young (yes, young) lady; every time a guy refuses to do what he’s supposed to do anyway, ie fix the puncture (tyres & manicures are not friends), change the bulb, take you out once in a while and handle the bill without looking at it for more than 30 seconds, open that freakn car door, pull out your seat, give you his warm jacket when temperatures drop and your arms are bare, you get my drift. All those things men used to do but stopped after 1995 thanks to those women who went to Beijing.
Now if you and your (borrowed for the ones who are into that nasty habit) man walk up to a closed door and the guy stands there looking at you like you lost a limb, DO NOT GIVE IN TO TEMPTATION AND OPEN THE DOOR! This will probably be followed by, “You’re waiting for me to open the door, kwani you don’t have hands?” Turn to him, smile sweetly and tell him “Did you see a picture of me shouting angrily in Beijing? Now until you see it, quit being a twonk and open the bloody door.” Then move ever so slightly to the side and say a gracious ‘thank you” as you glide your glamorous ass past him.