Every so often non-African women — especially Whites and Latinos — forward questions to me about African men. In some enclaves, the fascination and hunt for African men can be entertaining to watch. Nonetheless there is always this grouse about African men not wanting to do whatever it is they expect men to do in the bedroom, on the couch, or on the washing machine. Most of the complaints center on African men refusing to indulge in certain acts — acts that are said to be culturally forbidden and which are also against religious sensibility. These men, I am told, don’t mind being the recipients; giving it is the problem. In any case, I find such complains to be out of place and outdated.
The men in their lives must be playing tricks since African men, and women, are now into whatever can be seen or heard in the bedroom of their western counterparts. And indeed, African women are becoming as aggressive and demanding as their western equals when it comes to such interesting acts. And the men? My, my, my, they are just as happy to comply and please their women as anybody else. It is no longer a question of acquired taste; it has gradually become part of their sexual makeup so much so one would think such foreplays and activities and experiments were invented by Africans. We golf, play ping pong and go to the gymnasium, why should bed antics be a problem?
Falling in love is not one of the things I bother myself with. But it bothered me when my women ask, “honey do you love me?” I used to be tongue-tied. Look, what do you say to something like that if you are a candid fellow like me? As a born-again Christian, I must never be caught lying. What if I really didn’t love her, but liked her; and enjoyed her laughter, her smiles, her radiance, her sassy-spunky-can-do attitude and the way she sees the world? What if I was mesmerized by her poetry, her body language and the way she swims while making love. What’s the difference between love and like.
Escaping such moments are not easy. You are in the throes of passion, panting, with your toes curling, your skin damp, your vision slightly blurred and feeling heavenly, suddenly — suddenly — she gazes into your eyes or with her soft wet lips softly whispers into your ears, “I love you.” She says it once, shivering…trembling…quivering and quaking from intense pleasure; and says it again, “I…love…you…” Tell me; tell me, at that point, what do you say in return? Damn, you have to be some sort of insensate and an unkind lowlife not to reciprocate such declaration. You say it even if you have to lie and say it breathlessly.
And then there is the increasing number of women who email to tell ask about “what to do” regarding the number of African men living in African who propose marriage. Some of these women are ready to go to
Something else: why after all these years of CNN, ABC, and BBC’s exposé do people still fall prey to 419 scams? Common, one really has to be stupid, greedy, and mentally-challenged, deranged or suffers from a combination of the aforementioned to fall for such scams. Year after year for the last fifteen years it is amazing that there are still mumu and mugus out there who believe they won the lottery or can made quick money without any kind of honest effort. My goodness, what kind of people believes in manna from heaven?
When asked why a disproportionate number of Nigerians are nurses and cab-drivers, an acquaintance answered, “na money we all find come
The next time you come across a Nigerian nurse, see if there is a smile on her face. Most of the time, they are tired, beaten, and worn out. And most of the nurses I know suffer from acute depression. In so many ways, nurses are even better off than the cab-drivers. You know what’s so funny about cab-drivers? Well, four things: (1) most will tell you they have master’s degree or some kind of professional degree, but were unable to find commensurate employment; (2) that what they do is just part-time, but if you dig deeper, most have been at it for over a decade; (3) most of them are married to nurses; and (4) most are divorced or in a nasty relationship. I was a cab-driver, became a cook, and now I am all over
Lately, I have been thinking of joining a political party in
Now, did you hear what the Bayelsa State Governor, by way of his spokesman, has been saying about Vice President Jonathan Goodluck? If you play the Nigerian politics you must stick to the rules, or be summarily dealt with. From all indications the governor is not playing by the rules. I don’t know of any other state governor who has openly and directly accused his mentor/benefactor of corruption, mismanagement and other ills. The governor must either have a death-wish, or he is a very unusual man: clean, honest, godly, and a man who is ready to take the state to a new height.
But to the extent that he is not the renaissance man, that he is not of the new breed, that he does not have a death-wish, then, his actions and pronouncements since coming to power — especially as they relate to Vice President Jonathan Goodluck — will cause him nothing but grief. If he does not change his ways, he will not last in office. Common sense dictate that he thread softly…that he engage back-channels… that he engage in private discussions with the VP to iron out matters relating to the missing money. That’s the way he should have approached the missing money as per Nigerian-style politics.
By the way, where in the world is Mr. Paul Adujie? After his “Nigeria Needs Constitutional Amendments and Electoral Reforms NOW!” (Thursday, 21 June 2007), he suddenly vanished. All calls to his number have yielded no fruit; and all emails to his internet address have also remained unanswered. Is he on sabbatical, resting; or has he totally disengaged from the