I once dated a girl who was sweet and unique. She was a work of art like a Ben Enwonwu sculpture, with brown skin like Choco-milo and eyes that lit up like a kerosene lantern. And her figure? Majestic and curvaceous like an Igbo Ukwu bronze pot. And do not get me started on her teeth – she had the most perfectly arranged set of 32 I had ever seen, which looked especially cute whenever she wore her metal braces. The juxtaposition of her teeth against metal reminded me of the most perfect corn cob resting on an iron grill. She had an impeccable personality to boot too – a trifecta of intelligence, quiet determination and an easy going aura. We really fancied each other, and I would drive to my cousin’s estate where she lived, park in front of her apartment block and hunk my car horn 4 times, and she would show up. That was our signal. Once her strict mum showed up with a garri pestle, but that’s another story for another day.
While she absolutely adored me, she could not stand something about my character – I had roving eyes like a Nigerian politician’s loyalty to ideology. You see, I was the type of fella many girls loathed for a boyfriend, in that I liked to glance at other females. It was usually a short peep, shorter than M.I.; Truth be told, it was not like I was interested in these other chicks. It was just tomfoolery. I never meant to disrespect my girl. It was just lookery.
And I never cheated on her with these other girls I was checking out – least not physically. A perfect analogy would be that I was like a Buhari supporter checking out GEJ’s manifesto, not because I planned to switch my allegiance, but because I wanted to see what GEJ was all about. There were just so many hot girls in Lagos.
My girl would usually catch me stealing quick glances at some female in a tight pair of leggings and she would give me a piece of her mind. The worst time was when I attended a Matriculation event with her at UNILAG. And when we went to Zenith Bank’s Customer Service Center on Ajose Adeogun in V.I. There were girls of every shape and color in those places. At the time, I felt like a Senator dulling at a cabal meeting sipping Fanta while other politicians were sharing Ghana-Must-Go bags of cash. I was like a greedy Nigerian at the NEXT annual Xmas sales on Oxford Street in London – I felt like grabbing it all.
I will admit, now that I am older and more mature, I realize that the grass is not always greener on the other side. I try to avoid situations that would make my missus feel some type of way. I also regret that my immaturity made my ex-girlfriend tear up like OBJ’s PDP membership card.
Sometimes we fellas do not realize how much we hurt our partners when we scope other females’ bakassi until we get a taste of our own alabokun. My friend Jide once went steady with a lass who loved to check other men out. It was just her thing – she had the spirit of Potiphar’s wife in her. Even while driving, she once nearly ran into an iron horse (okada) because she was staring at some dude jogging past without his top on. Another time Jide peeped her checking out a plantain seller pushing a huge wheel-barrow full of fruit in the market. She claimed it was the plantain for sale she was interested in. I’m in love with the dodo.
He broke up with her. Why was he so angry – many girls have to put up with this on a daily basis. For guys, our massive egos cannot take it.
Some people handle their “jealousy” in different ways. They are fine if their significant other looks, but does not touch the object of their crush. Their reasoning is that it is easier to control what hand caresses, than what your eyes see.
My friend Toyin is quite loony. She actually encourages her hubby to discuss his crushes or attractions to other females with her. When they are out together at a party or event, she would prod him and ask him who he thinks out of a bevy of ladies is hot, or who he fancied out of the lot. They would then “jokingly” dissect the girl’s qualities and quantities together. “That girl is not all that jor. She is not even pear shaped – she is agbalumon-shaped. You must be blind if you think she is as hot as me. Maybe it is aggro misdirecting you.” By the time Toyin was done, hubby lost some appetite for the crush anyway. Talk about crushing hopes.
There was a time her husband’s friends were planning a bachelor’s eve party for a friend of theirs who was getting married, and they were going to hire pole dancers and raunchy runs-girls as part of the entertainment. Toyin helped them with the booking of the venue. Reverse psychology or perverse psychology?
My missus is not that liberal. She simply does not negotiate with the enemy, so to speak. Just like our government tried to do with Boko Haram. My madam’s mantra is this: you do not fraternize with the opposition, you crush all rebellion. She reminds me of Fayose in that regard, though she has more refined diction.
I am not that stupid either. My madam does not care to know who the current object of my fantasy is. If I dared volunteer information like pointing out a girl I was crushing on, she would go haywire. Na who ask you?
Besides things like what Toyin does with her hubby make me quite uneasy sef. Some things should stay in their lane like BRT Bus. Reminds me of the time that I made out with some chick, and then her twin brother started asking me how it was. I shook him off like a guguru and epa seller seller blows off the peanut shells. That’s how Clifford Orji type madness starts.
Some folks do not even allow their partners have friends of the opposite sex. Especially if that friend was hotter, more popular or more successful. Is it not ridiculous that in some ancient cultures, like Mongolia under the Khans, wives even went as far as selecting concubines for their husbands? Like a Nigerian wife would ever select a concubine for you. Dream on fellas or move to Mongolia. Or to Abuja. Ha ha.
That is even cool. My cousin Benbella and his fiancé went for a wedding somewhere in Victoria Island. At the reception, he ran into 2 female ex school-mates from University. They were happy to see each other, so they hugged and decided to take a photo which they planned to upload onto their alumni Facebook page later. Benbella posed for picture in between the two ex-school mates, with his hands around their waists and asked his fiancée to take the photo with her I-phone.
After she took the photo, fiancée pulled Benbella aside and gave him an earful. And a mouthful.
She chided “I do not like the way your hand was resting on your ex-school mate’s ass. If it is hungrying you like that, touch my own butt instead.”
Benbella downed 3 shots of vodka after that, no chaser. His fiancée is a handful.
My wife is different – she doesn’t even play all that jazz. In fact the only female in the world she says I have a pass with is Scarlett Johansson, and my wife’s logic is “that is never going to happen anyway. She would never look at you even if you were both the last persons on earth” But I am not the last person on earth…
How do you handle yours? Are you fine with your partner looking? Or are you Mongolian in nature?
But what we have is so realistic/
There’s no forming girl, no film tricks/
I no go chop outside, no picnics/
Cause you and I above the statistics/
It don’t matter if I got ego/
We got something we can build on, Lego/
M.I., One Naira (2010)