I’m tired of society and how ambiguously hypocritical it is. I’m tired of the double standards. I’m tired of people shouting and marching in the street with banners written ‘Gender Equality’ and making a specific day of the year a day to commemorate the same. I’m tired of how the ‘pious’ preach and castigate you for sinning on Sundays yet they fornicated the whole weekend. I’m tired, I really am. But I’m especially tired (even irked) by some girls with a certain double standard.
I was scrolling through Twitter the other day and I saw a tweet vilifying ‘good’ guys. She had a lot to say, this African-American girl, and with this Twitter update where amount of characters have been doubled, she poured her heart out rather delightfully, her main point being: ‘good’ guys are boring.
I was peeved.
So I started typing a comment in retaliation but apparently, not even that update could fit in all what I had to say. I then decided to bring my woes here.
Today, I speak for us, the ‘good’ guys.
I’m a good guy, always has been and always will be. And I don’t mean the Adam and Eve morality ‘good’, I mean the ‘good’ girls refer to when they want to settle down. Like in those – Looking for Love? Text ‘Lover of my Soul’ to 00000 and meet the love of your life – ads on newspapers that go like this:
I’m Dorcas, and I’m 31 years old. I’m looking for a good man, not younger than 35 years. He should be preferably tall and dark. He should be ready to settle down because time is far much gone for me and I need to settle down ASAP or my mother will embarrass me at family dinner on Christmas.
I may have doctored that last part.
A good guy is a guy cares for the woman. He is a man that is as interested in sex just like any other man but doesn’t rush into it because really, only the nose runs, not the vagina. He is a man with standards (as weird as that sounds) and treats an unattractive lady the way he would an attractive one. Most times, he would prefer to know a lady first before lying with her. So he’ll probably take her out once or a few times and the rest will follow.
Now because of all these, some birds out there claim that he, a man of nyadhi, is soft and lackluster. That he, a man of nyadhi, cannot satisfy a woman in bed. Which only suggests that he, a man of nyadhi, has the libido that of an 80 year old. Or they (the consortium of good men) have annual conferences to find new ways of disappointing women in bed. In those meetings, they decide to only do missionary. Because they are boring like that. So for the longest time, we have been victimized. We have been beaten down and had our heads torn off. We have been memefied (a word I just created to mean memes of us have been made to troll us). And most times, we have been mistaken for shy, introverted, soft people. That’s why, when you are seated in a bus home one rainy evening with your shirt stuck against your skin because you were rained on and your nipples peek notoriously, you will catch a glimpse of the phone of the girl seated next to you. She will be texting a friend saved as ‘Ess’ (which can be short for anything from Esther to Esau) that a boy was, in her words, ‘too good for my taste. I need me some fun.’
(I don’t know who came with this pejorative and patronizing nomenclature of men. To separate us with words so broad and banal like good and bad like we are fruit in a basket. Whomever they are, they should be teargassed.)
We are called boring because on one of those consecutive weekends you wanted to go out and wild, we merely suggested that we stay in and eat and banter- without the mention of sex. And because you are young and have charisma and sexual drive of a young bull, you thought we were mind-numbing and ‘not fun.’ We are called boring because on that first date, we did not lean over and grab your ass as we kissed you. Because we’re good, you call us ‘good’ (in that negative undertone) and dub us unworthy of another date and waste a good thing.
Well, I have news for you little miss sunshines.
To say that we are boring and lack sexual charisma because we’re chivalrous says everything about you. You are damaged and you need help. If you prefer kina Brayo and Mato to take you out and grind on you for four hours straight while a bit of semen leaks onto their boxers, you are hurt. If your idea of ‘fun’ is the same, I feel for you. And if you’re reading this and sneering, I’m sorry but it is all true. There’s fun in talking. There’s fun is staying home and catching up on a show on a Friday night. And there’s even more fun in drinking at home.
I’m no fool, though. I understand that there are times you only want sex. In this case, say it. Say it so I don’t waste my time and money.
The double standards come in where you hook up with Mato that night he leaked semen in the club because you thought he was fun. In the morning, he’ll wake up and start preparing tea that will be suspiciously too little for two people. You’ll ask him why and he’ll say he wasn’t expecting you to stay that long. You will leave and for the next month, you will be stuck in a shitty loop of mornings without tea because you got attached to a rolling stone. So one day (forgive me for starting with ‘so’ so many times, ni leo pekee) you will go to his bedsit and find another girl straddled half-naked on his bed and your heart will be broken.
Soon, we’ll see you on social media writing long captions about independence and ‘niggas ain’t being shit’ because of a mistake you made. We’ll see you blindly fighting for equality because it is part of your course as an independent self-proclaimed feminist. But we’ll see right through you and we will know it is bitterness and pain talking. All because you thought we were too good.