Who Wants to be a Man, Anyway?

Why do some people say “grow some balls”? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding – Sheng Wang

I am pissed off. I am pissed off at men who say: “Feminism. You people want to be husbands? You want to be men?” Heck, why will anyone want to be the men some of them are, anyway?

I am particularly pissed off at women whose response to feminism is always: I am not a feminist because my husband and I blah blah and I believe my husband is the head of the family. Then, they sit back and look proud like well fed cats. They feel smug because they believe they have successfully dismissed all the talk of feminism with a wave of their hands. You should just go and sit down if you imagine you would shut down a discourse that has spanned centuries- baton passed on from generation to generation- by wearing the look of a well fed kitten and talking about “my husband and I” and our Christian marriage. Just go and sit down.

To make feminism the simple story of how it is well with you in your home is to say terrorism is not an issue because no bomb has exploded on your street.

In a world where a girl comes first in class and the teacher turns to the boys to say: “Look at you, you allowed a girl to beat you.” How will I not be a feminist?

In a world where a woman is expected to consider herself grateful to get male attention, how can I not be a feminist?

In a world where a woman with her money and accommodation needs is shunned by a landlord because she is a woman, tell me, how will I not be a feminist?

In a world where men walk around standing on Paul’s “Wives, submit to your husband” and demand submission from every being with breasts, forget that the scriptures they stand on says: “Wives”, how can I not be feminist?

In a world where I have seen a man stewing that: woman, common woman spoke to me like that? Woman wey I for don slap if no be say we be visitor-visitor; how can a right thinking woman not be slighted?, how will I not be feminist?

In a world where a stellar academic performance makes parents and teachers think you belong in a hospital in white robes with a stethoscope around your neck, I opted to study English. Tired of the headstrong girl I was, an older acquaintance shrugged and said: “Well, you are a woman. If it does not work out fine, you have your husband to rely on.” How can I not be feminist?

If it is okay in your world, it is not okay in the world of women who are victims of honour killings. It is not okay in a world where being a woman with eccentricities makes it likely you are branded a witch and burnt.

My feminism is not about fighting over who will cook or will not cook. What’s the problem with cooking anyway? Ladies, cooking isn’t your problem. The thing that is dancing azonto on top of some of your lives as women in this society is beyond cooking, which I consider a beautiful thing by the way, if it is your hobby. Some people, male or female, love to cook. Some can’t cook to save their lives and get no pleasure from it. In a normal world, the beautiful and sacred kitchen shouldn’t be the battlefield for rights. Let whomever the apron fits, who won’t cause fourth world war in the family’s belly and loo, do the cooking.  Do what works, I think.  

Hold on a sec, did you know that many state governments in Nigeria- perhaps, all- do not grant a pregnant woman maternity leave unless she is Mrs. Somebody? Yes, woman, let that and all that it represents sink in. I first heard of such in the year 2015. 2017, it is still on. You are pregnant and not married? No, no maternity leave for you, you bad girl. How can one not be a feminist?

The biggest roadblock to women coming into the fullness of their being is women themselves. You know, like the cow chained to a blade of grass? My feminism is premised on the belief that women coming into their fullness is an inside job. A woman should unlearn all the false notions that have been shoved down her throat about what she can, should, may or must do. A woman should know there are many things she can or cannot do but it should not be because she is a woman: “How can I, a mere woman be this or that?” Women have learnt to shrink into themselves. I simply wish for a world where a person can be all she can be without her breasts being stones around her neck, dragging her down. I bet if men had our bodies, they would even use it more to their credit. You may hear stuff like: why would you listen to someone who has no breasts?

Do you notice how men take pride in their bodies? Do you know men can be revered in Yoruba language as being special as against those who “urinate from behind”. How does that even make sense? Women need to value that special package of theirs and its immense possibility more.