this is a long overdue update on the igbo lesbian fantasy…that was rekindled here
Anyways i went from being ecstatic to being very very weary of this woman because she wasn’t saying she was bi, she was saying she was questioning and dating men, probably wanted to get married to one and there i was in full fledged fantasy land…not long after wondering what if? we could be a couple?
I mostly remain indiffrent and committed to us being/remaining simply friends, wa hang out whatever..simple right? and then one night we both REAL twisted as in i think a drank a whole bottle of brandy and had like a hideous amounts of tequila shots, next thing you know shes dancing and writhing and gyrating and rubbing, caressing ALL over me?????
Now normally it’d be time for a good old fashion, pump those break and slow your roll good old fashioned lesbian processing conversation but mty judgement was SEVERELY impaired and i was curious…
So we fuck. twice at night and once in the morning.
Then i left and went home. One week later after i’d called her later that day she calss me and wants to hang out i get us tickets for a show and later on she tells me that she just wants to be “friends” and all these other things that i do not recall at the moment and so i say to her ok thats cool but i’m confused about why you decide now, you could have spared me the bullshit before you got into my pants but its cool…i shoulds known better and stayed the FUCK away from a straight girl and by this i do not mean the biphobic sentiment that women who fuck men cannot have a relationship with women instead i mean those women who are literally just experimenting and are too unethical to tell you beforehand and so they circumvent all conversation where you might fucking find out that they have no real intentions/inclinations/preparedness to live a queer life instead you physically embody thier rebellion against thier boyfriend or are a manifiestation of thier desire to prove to themselves that they are eccentric, behemian and far from ordinary.
In reality however, that are far more committted deep down to thier desires and intentions of living a TRULY heteronormative existence with a middleaged husband behind a picket fence in a sburb or a box in the sky condo, they want the benefits of being a part of queer community, having queer friends without taking ANY of the risks, challenges that those of us who have painstakingly risked our family, home and EVER belonging to come out not as a grand gesture but because we needed the loving support of our family and most cherished as we liveed our queer lives..
I’ve known three of these women in my like so far, I’m happy to say that i’m over it, I dont care if you are from my local government area, from my maternal or paternal village, i dont care anymore, unless you ass can demonstrate a commitment to living a truly queer life, i’m not talking white people’s definition of a lesbian with birkenstocks and patchouli, i’m talking unless you’ve demonstrated a desire to live queerness, to appreciate from within, to live your life to reflect this inner desire as opposed to an exotification of the other..STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!
I’m realizing that part of the things that makes it iompossible for most of the naija girls i’ve met to commit to a queer life is deep internalized homophobia, the belief that we don’t exist, that we are unnatural, that we can never take each other seriously, well i exist and i’ve met several others and i have xample from when i be small pikin so clearly thats a myth. I’m committed to living my life the way my heart requires in order to be happy.
It is the other side of this internalized homophobia that makes me so very fucking desperate when it comes to igbo girls that at the slightest sign of queerness, i’m down…thats the same shit that got me into all my past fucked up relationships from exhusbands to exfucking friends…so I’m burying it.
From mow on, i’ll be checking myself, slow and steady, untill i see what i want, no leaps, no faith. There is no scarcity. We abound. That storyline is DEAD
You know that feeling of when it hurts so much you feel like you are always crying, in your heart, with your body everything is dripping tears…thats how i fell today, thats how i been feeling all week. I guess that’s why it’s called sorrow. I guess that’s why it’s called heartbreak. I guess that is why it’s called growing pains….
Growing pains because i’ve decided to continue to live my life for me, to dream up how i want to be living, where i want to be living, who i envision myself with, what i envision myself doing and to actively struggle, work for and fight for it…i feel threatened that people will attempt to take away my dreams for my family, for myself…more and more i think of my brothers and sisters and the vast difference in quality of life that we’ve had and how i represent so much of what the western world is to them(i should say western imperialism at the expense of others while asserying thier superiority as if it is “right”, all the while claiming justice, freedom and equality )…and their ‘progress’. My family sacrificing and deterring their dreams just so i can be here and have continued to now for years and will continue to.
Yes, its complicated with my family from the times when all i did was caretake, from the time when that was all i was constructed as the evil/oddly demanding must caretake and therefore be taken care off..its a weird arrangement where folks in my family felt/feel guilt and other emotions that compelled them to either justify the ways that i was not normalized or centred in the family to centre me in other ways..especially in relation to abuse/rape/trauma…sometimes my brain cant handle everything all together and i think ignore that for now….
And yet, it sit at the back of my mind, i any case, all that aside where it is true that i was not a powerful position in my family in the past, that has shifted radically, i have the most earning potential, the one with western arrogance and entitlement that feels i can change my world around me and shape my world around me as i see fit, the one with non practical/strategic dreams when my mother in her late forties is still thinking in terms of what is practical/strategic for the family and not in what would satisfy her personal desires and needs…apparently she wanted to be a writer and has volumes of journals bound up just waiting for someone to read…or do anything with. her story locked down on paper, my mother. The rest of the family, most of the family i have watched attempt to navigate this push and pull, i mean extended family and most of them have eventually settled on taking of care of their own nuclear family. And i cant blame them, that is why i can/could have gone through the times i was eating at the foodbank, living in shelters, walking with my Achilles in the snow to school and work after just so i could take care of my lonesome without falling back on an abusive exploitative situation where i was extremely vulnerable: i mean without entering partnerships/friendships etc where i was extremely vulnerable to abuse due to physical, mental, poverty condition…
In the last 7 years only one of my aunts has given me even $1, i ‘ve had noone and absolutely no one in my family to even think or consider asking for support. It continues to break my heart. And so i don’t want my family to say that, i continue to support my brothers and sisters when i can, even if its fifty dollars here and there just so that they know, that they have the security that comes from knowing that when if they should need $50 quick, i will be there…. that brings a smile to my face.
So i;ve been planning/scheming, all of it has been keeping me up at night, knowing that i need to position myself for the betterment of my family, for the betterment of myself, that the ways that i sacrificed..it is two way…my darling sisters have lived without me for the past ten years in the sameways that i have had to live to live without them, its been a two way street and i think of it and ask myself WHY? Because we are African? Why all this suffering everywhere, all over the place?I know i’m not the only one suffering and that makes it worse..noone to say oh let me lean on you because you are really enjoyin…no everyone has their cross to carry.
I guess I have resentment because when i was leaving 9ja, the teenager that i was,, i thought i was coming to bE with my extender family they would provide and care for me as this was my initial experience staying with one of my uncles but after that initial experience, this was no longer the case….
Perhaps that is the only left over hurdle from immigrating unexpectedly without really knowing what i was in for..but then again how much could i know, i was a teenager. How much do i know now STILL..very little as this reality scares the hell out of me, i will have very many learning curves, steep ones at that before i can be well adjusted, perhaps that is what well adjustedness is about? In anycase i plan.
I am tentatively, anxiously making all these gutt wrenching plans about my livelihood, my lovelife, my spiritual life, my physical person, my character, my skill set..everything is being carefully crafted…knowing just how much there is at stake, or at least i’ve convinced myself that there is indeed so much at stake..what am I saying, there is so very much at stake….MY Life!!
Title: Rupture not transformation: “yahoozee” locating naija pop culture postcolonial, anti imperialist theory: “It’s all about the benjamins baby”.
I have been wanting to insert my two cents on the 19 for a while now and have reserved comment because i was still forming my ideas on how i thought it fit into our present location as nigerians, third worlders and a country whose citizenry and state (questionably they might be very clear) is mostly in denial about its location as a neocolonized state within a global capital order.
Prove of neocolonial status (they abound, but for the sake of the economist, that only understand resource control and production, whom i unfortunately have had the pleasure and eye opening encounter with recently, who also cannot/will not utilize thier imagination to concieve/consider, at least try to image a world, or at least acknowledge that capitalism works to create surplus TAKEN from whomever is neccessarilty constructed as “unacceptable/marginal and therefore disabled” ):
Ok to continue with the proof
Free trade zones and commercial zones ideologized by state propagandas as “progress” for poor backward nigeria case in point: calabar
a citizenry that are “educated” and colonized to think of capitalism and the conspicious accumlation of wealth and power to the purpose of domination as freedom as the only solution to domination. For instance: you can’t find a job: poor you turn to armed robbery, OR leabve the country and stick it to the white man by voluntarily exiling yourself from your homelands (which by the way leave it wide open and increasingly depopulated, because they are still human being in africa NOT desperate, suffering poor people in need of your janded priviledged help)
Exile without recognizing and taking individual responsibility for the imperialist and capitalist destruction of economic and social structures so that you have to leave for a “better” quality of life
Better quality of life spent as part of a colonizing peoples who literally continue to this day to engage in apartheid and genocidal measures against the original inhabitants of the land (applies to yankee mostly for what i know) while you complain about racism and the struggles of the “settler” as you remain mostly oblivious from the struggle of the original inhabitants without realizing or maybe just not caring much because the white people sure as hell won’t tell you, they’re too busy telling you how multicultural and committed to diversity they are, are you are merely concerned with bettering you’re quality of life.
Quality of life: where you must learn to speak and engage much like a yankee, and unquestioned assimulation begins to take place. the ramifications? loss of culture and alienation from self are just a few side effects, not to mention the insatiable feeling of longing and sudden constructed space and distance from your home as you fully identify as an “immigrant” gratefull you should be.
When you do return/speak think/talk about home you become an indirect and yet effective colonizer, from within as you propagate western ideals/values and expectations of progress without question.
after you do make or if you are a 2/3/4 th generation immigrant and the years of accumulated linguistic, intellectuat, conceptual colonization has acquired full strength signaled by your accrued privilege and entitlement AND responsibility as a citizen of yankee nation then you start to think that you are well deserving and hardworking and have merited your accomplishments in life afterall you got good grades, made it out the ghetto and now make a surplus of anyway from 30k and above.
OR which is where the “criminals” (criminals in quote to emphasis how liberal value systems and consensus are made legal/laws and punish literally in an effort to monitor and control ‘other’ed disabled/diseased/racialized and stereotyped bodies) from incursions and protections of the dominant society. Not to say that robbery is right all i’m saying is that it is complicated as there are other non individualized factors such as ecomonic, social state sanctioned and structural that are erased, hidden and conveniently remain unaddressed (unstated, un deconstructed, unacknowledged and mostimportantly merely disturbed but not transformed in any meaningful way ) as people/bodies are constructed as criminals. Its not bloody fucking new.
but it is in my humble opinion misguided to say the least, to think or suggest that yahoozee which happens to be the prominent and solidly grounded rationale that i have been encountering everywhere of recent is RESISTANCE/transformation.
Why?
its too fucking simple and too easy…
first of all. important notes that guide/ground my logic: i think i read someone (buttigieg, A.J in teaching english and developing a critical knowledge of the global) reference Fanon to saying something like it is worse when one thinks that they are seperate/distanced from the master and therfore are hindering themselves from thier position so that they may understand how it is that they are being mastered so that they may find a way to begin to master the master and it is in this conflict,process, chaotic place of contradiction between agency and power/domination /oppressed notice those nasty boundaries become inefficient/not enough that transformation and resistance may and historically has occurred.
anyways how does yahoozee contribute to the capitalist global order and why isn’t enough: well for starters it is a rupture in imperialistic/colonial economic relations as it points clearly to the gaps in a meritocratic ideology used to maintain and legitimize oppression and inequality, after nigeria jagga jagga and everything scatter scatter, but it stops there. there is no disruption of the global capital order instead it reinforces it powerfully, and this time of course it is no longer simple/sufficent to blame the white man and deny agency, they get to claim “innocent” victim as they are the ones taken advantage of, as that pesky white mans burden rears it head and load once again. Below are clips from ABC news
it is african (racialized, savage, inhuman, unethical and STUPID) body that starts to look monstrous as they “take” (which granted is rupture as it attempts to disrupt the economic flow of capital BUT NOT RESOURCES/CONTROL OF PRODUCTION) from thier victims.
conspicuous consumption and spending primarily of western symbols of wealth and culture (dollars, bling, hummer) eurocentric consumerism is FULLY embraced and therefore the capital is returned to the western economy ANYWAYS.
there is no “strategy” it is not meant to be resistance, nor in most cases is not meant fund say aids research and address the new pharmacological control of africa, food production, NO (if i am wrong please inform me)
Emphasis on self empowerment, through indegenous culture/education is all but completely absent except in maybe lace purchases/real estate such that SUCCESS and efficient rupture/supposed resistance is completely located in a monetary nexus: CASH, DOLLARS to be precise. Capitalism thrives.
as the support of capitalism and the accumulation of dollars is centralized then the ideology that is mostly responsible for all of this in the first place is reinforced and progated to new upcoming generations. imaginations and alternatives are limitied, out of the question and mostly not considered.
mostly there is a devaluation of the self (in the face of such huge denial of humanity face with laws meant to do this: immigration laws for example that claim to be multicultural and yet refuse, reject the accrediation of professional lured from thier indigenous lands into exile to serve as the surplus CHEAP labour in colonizing western economies) who will drive the mofo taxicabs, clean houses and provide childcare for the white middle class while they live the quality and kind of life with organic food, soy milk and mac computers that they killed entire nations for.
and even then with the system, is yahoozee a quantifiable, ‘legally’ marketable and employable skill? can you really put it on the resume since we’ve fully embraced a global capital order.
one must not forget the way that it affects masculinity, as it produces highly, i repeat highly insecure men who want to prove how macho they are with how much money they have and are consequently more assholish, and uninteresting and expect to get whatever they want because of the money and complain that they can never find a woman who really likes/love them without the money when the money was all that was offered, shoved down her throat to begin with, when masculinity and patriachial relations are reinforced and poverty is feminized, what happens: women get raped and abused and dehumanized.
and so i conclude by noting that not only does it reinforce global capital order mostly everyday is for the thief and one day is for the owner: you ass will get caught, one day one day. the system of prison and incarceration as a means of control, monitioring and legitimizing the domination of racially stereotyped bodies is another story for another day.
so yeah, where if i had the opportunity i may very well consider it, not do i judge, nor do i not date yahoozeeites but i in no way delude myself to think that yahoozee is part of a larger network of radical resistance….does it present such possibilities capital YES.
Aight so today was a good day regardless of the nasty day mostly due to the encounter with the toxic crap that the ex hubby NEVER seems to run out of. In any case, I did a little reading recommited to my school work and went to bed at say 8-9pm with the intention to wake up in the middle of the night (don’t laugh i actually used to do this, back in the day when i still thought that higher education and academia was about learning but thats another post). I woke up you guessed it, at like 7pm well in all fairness my alarm woke me up but then i looked at the thing and just went to back to sleep. I got at like 7am, decided to get organized so i could make it to class did the dishes (did i mention that i’ve been doing the dishes now every 3-4 days!!) Thats just ridiculous i don’t want to have “visitors”, my buidling definitely has a pest problem and i’ve been keeping it under control with pest treatments every other week and they’ve for the most part stayed away but if i keep this up they are sure as hell to return.
ANYWAYS….to cut the long story short. Part of my getting OUTside of the house and trying to live for myself program has involved ACTUALLY making it to counselling which ever since the divorce i’ve been VERY VERY VERY sketchy about the whole thing. So anyways I get to talking, and the topic of my mother and my feelings regarding my mother and he reaction to all of this and her role in my life through all of this and SHE jumped on it, sunk her teeth in and wouldn’t let go….questions, questions, questions….
She said that i seemed to have SO many feelings and that i was joking them away but that underneath all the jokes and even my understanding there mUSt be something more I said yes of course, of course there is something more..i just don’t want to go there. Well, i told her that in the past and i’m taking a couple of years when i shared such issues with people who were supposed/claimed to love and care for me it was utilized with another emotional agenda (THIERS) and i was left to deal with the repercussions of my actions as a result BUT also that it scarred me in ways that have left me wondering how usefull it is to share, process the feelings that i have about my family (as i write that down i realize how stupid that is because its for my own good anyways to continue to beat it, process it and work on it as much as i can). I also said that i wanted to deal with the bottled up and unexpressed feelings so that maybe i could either have the relationship that i have always wanted with my mother or fund some peace with it and get some clarity on my part so that i can feel confident about being a mother.
Through all this divorce stuff, unlike all the other varying relationships i have had, my mother was there in ways that i had never imagined. I leaaned heavily on her for the moral support that i needed to deal with ex hubby and she was constantly unflinchingly inmy corner and it felt good. WHY?
It felt good cos it was a little surprising, i was expecting her to yell, cuss me out etc but she reserved all judgements at least untill later and just problem solved with me, after the numerous betrayals i had encountered with so called loved ones, it was good to be affirmed and validated like that. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. I have always wanted a relationship where i could actually tell her anything and she would fight on MY corner, not the mutherfucker who raped me, not the ex, not my dad…JUST ME.
And I’m glad because this time, i was there, enough words, screams, yells and blaming had passed between the both of us that i think this time she was actually able to take care of me for once, regardless of what anybody would say or do.
Anyways..now that everybody knows that i love my mother and and have unfailing blood bound loyalty to her.
Detox…please tell us about the times you felt abandoned, neglected, rejected, unwanted, like a heavy burden that they did not want any part of not to mention carry so that you have to chase them down so that they will carry it, even though for most of your life up untill you came out and they told you that you couldn’t come home anymore, at least not like that, and then you SERIOUSLY started considering and exploring non bio family options and constructions that did not go very well, which they smugly blamed you for and that makes me feel like if they weren’t such demanding, blood sucking, insensitive, willingly ignorant and unkind people that kicked you out of thier little family and banished you to exile in this cold cold agbara of a place then there would have been no problem in the face but then again it doesn’t matter cos even there i was thier little child that was disabled who made them uncomfortable so they decided that she wasn’t REALLY REALLY disabled, how fucking convenient because she was REALLY REALLY REALLY disabled and she found that out that she was REALLY REALLY unfixably and unpretendably disabled and they just all continued to pretend like it never so yeah i’m fucking pissed, hurt, cant believe it, don’t like thinking it, there is a gap in my head about what my family have told me they are and what i hoped they would be and what they actually ARE.
Support for all the above stated are as follows
When i was little, my parents would periodically forget me in random places, in school, babysitters house, friends house, once they left me there late in the night in YABA!!!!! we lived closer to mile 12/satellite side. sometimes, i’d wait and wait and wait and then i’d find my way home and other times i’d try and call them and they would all of a sudden remember, or there was no fuel in the car, or they would have to send someone to come and pick me up by bus or they would find the driver and come and pick me up. The worst part? THERE WAS NEVER EVER EVER AN APOLOGY, no sorry honey heres an extra slice of cake. I’d come home, sulk, not eat, go to bed and nobody would say shit to me untill me too i just follow them “forget” as them dey talk am say na you go tire, in regard to my family and silence…yes, name tire. Oh wait..and then later on i got the rep for holding shit in well WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT? Now, several failed relationships later and i am proud to say that in my last relationship there was very considerably little of that, cos if i held it in, i might find my head bashed up againt a mofo wall….there was very little holding of anything in. I learnt to express myself, not because i wanted to, or because i thought it was healthy no, i learnt because if i didn’t my boundaries would get crossed in fact they would dissappear and i just couldn’t afford to let that happen. It would have been very very very risky.
alone
caretaker
blamed me for the abuse
pretend i’m not sick
not calling/checking to see if i’m still fucking alive
to be continued in more detail later (time limit up)
I saw him today..he’s going through with it. he’s getting me kicked out or at least he is doing what he can to make sure that that happens, whether or not he will succeed is another thing entirely. I talked to a couple of friends about how malicious he is being and they said that he is hurt and doesn’t know what to do with it. I think yes he is hurt but this is the way that he has always been when he doesn’t get what he wants or i do not do exactly as he asks me to do. He punishes me, he tries to hurt me. I am not saying that I am incapable of getting hurt, of course I am but I simply will not allow for him to do things that will turn my life upside down. I do that myself and this time, i’m going to fight real hard for my stability, for my peace of mind.
Next time: i’ll be more careful on who i allow into my life as in seriously if you are not going to contribute in really concrete ways to the stability of my life and i’m talking $$ and no drama then you have gots to go.
I set my eyes on him today as he confessed to the management company that he was fraudulent in staying on the lease since he did not leave there…and for one horrid moment i thought isn’t it fraudulent for me to notify the authorities about my collusion on other parts but i just cannot be that person. I cannot knowingly and eyes wide open do something like that i know would affect another persons life irrevocably. But then again, i have in the past and i guess he could argue that i did the same to him.
He didn’t look the same, he looked ugly, not as attractive as i used to think of him, unkempt and he was growing facial hair??? I though omg what the HELL was i thinking. And at the same time, it hurt, it hurt deeply that we no longer, smiled, kissed, hugged, touched each other he was a stranger and a dangerous one at that.
I performed as calm, together, put on my clothes, make up and went to the meting and smiled while my ex husband told lies to the management because he wanted out of the lease and i told myself to remember that he was doing this to me, to try and take away the right lessons from this situation, to open my eyes and see him clearly and just sit still.
I wanted to ask him to come in, lets chat, have a cup of tea and then i realized that i must be in some alternate universe because this man had just tried to get me kicked out even though he unwittingly did me a favours because i no longer have to stay here till august and he has no idea that i got a job but they say that the universe in her infinite mercies works in mysterious ways and they are right.
tHere is still a part of me that believe in marriage as an oppressive institution, that believes that he was the one for me, his dick is MINE and my pussy should be HIS even though it is so far. The real, i look the man i con dey wonder say na wetin self wey mak me i dey wan kill myself for this man abi na small boy i go call am? no be say the boy dey take care of the house, pepper nko, that wan no even begin to dey rest for the boy hand but i no go lie bobo sabi shook, he’s down with the koko, as in noting wey i go wan make im do wey im no wey do as in whether na to wear woman cloth or even self to give me im gnash make i dey pund dey go…anything as long as say i get my rocks off bobo is down.
But one thing i will not do is pathologize him or call him crazy cos even though there are things that he has done to me that i do not think i can actually do to someone else, the reality is that does not make him “crazy”. i love, just love how people after the relationship has gone to hell in a hand basket, they start calling thier partner, sociopath, psychopath, pathological liar, downright evil: i think its real easy to do so. I’ve done it too and it just makes it harder for me to grieve and move on. plus how easy would it be for me to join in the pathology of the dark skin man, i just can’t go there. I don’t want to wake up many years from now with unresolved baggage from this marriage..NO WAY. i want to grieve, feel the pain, everything now…i just want it to be over and i’ll process it all away. this waste of time, is not coming back to bite me in by ass. you get?
you feel me….maybe i was simply in deep deep mutherfucking LUST
Bu then again i was so in lust with the dream of marrying a young your ageish, professional who was kinda liberal so that we could have that dream heterosexual perfect marriage among two relatively hot in market fish, so that we become the hottest couple and the talk of the town….ah well…i’m still on the look out for any queer naija ppl out there that wanna hook up i promise i’ll be in lust with you..will let you walk all over me as long as you give it up and make me squirt in the bedroom, i promise to spend each and every penny of mine trying to take care of you, your dreams, wishes, wants, desires, keep you in the lifestyle that you’re used to, i promise to let you make fat phobic and homophobic remarks and don’t forget ableist remarks about me as long as you don’t say/make them about anyone else in public where others can hear you cos you are supposed to be my questioning, non straight radical type of partner see…..i promise to cook for you EVERYDAY traditional, caribbean and other world wide fare. I promise to bend over and take whatever you dish as long as you do not hit me but don’t worry you can push me, drag me on the floor, step on my feet with your steel toe boots, watch oir make me do things that you are are physically difficult for me. Do you have a child/children, don’t worry i promise to help parent them and prepare myself as you dictate to become a parent for them and when the time come i will no longer contact or engage with them as is your desire you needn’t worry about me. And don’t worry even if you hit me, if you space it out and promise you’ll never do it again i will believe you.
Yes tell me you want to be with me forever, that i am the one for you, that you cannot imagine your life without me, tell me that you love and i am yours to use, abuse, humiliate as you wish.
Dear Mary, teach me the perseverance and the wisdom to trust in my own faith and my own abilities and my own abilities grant me the grace to know that i am guided and held in the care of the creators universe. keep me and guide me and care for me as your daughter
and lastly like my mother says: FIRE!!! holy ghost FIRE them and back to sender, they shall never EVer succeed, they will never set thier eyes on me as i am coming they are going and as they are going i am coming, may our paths NEVER cross.
Themes: On deconstructing romantic love, sexual politics and heterosexual, monogamous marriage and the violence and oppression of my naija, igbo self.
Aight so since the ex hubby left its been about a month now and i been soooo fucking horny. I used to fuck random strangers on the street but that works best in the summer time and you gotta look fuckable..nothing extra but feel good and look good enough to fuck and move all sexy to get people interested.
So i been answering personal ads on the internet..fucked one guy but he way too much of a wimp, insecure and too well behaved for me. See i enjoy a good HARD long dick..truth be told. I like it when i aint got no fucking feelings for that dick and its just a dick..especially with naija men the more you abuse and insult as in tell them you’re fucking other people cos thier dick is too small or cos they don’t know how to use it then the more they try, (which is usually my plan of attack so that we are clear that i am not expecting some kind of commitment from them where they are to treat me and expect me to behave like a good little girl that expects to get married to them someday or is just wishing that they would like me enough to get married to them someday and therefore giving them the mutherfucking license to cheat on me and lie and be dishonest and cruel since just plain up telling them that i’m interested in polyamory or a queer relationship is too much honesty for most naija men and too much exposure for me that is SOOOO not worth it since it will mostly and in the past usually over their heads…SOO over thier heads that they don’t even even see, nonetheless , I still pay a price for thier ignorance and stupidity because my shaky foundations and confidence get trampled on and the really strong decades old naija hetero norms program in me gets a reinforcement when i am viciously trying to attack it right down to its core, i figure a good place to start in any relationship is just cos you stuck your dick in this particular pussy does not and will never mean that it becomes yours..as in your property) the more they treat you with respect? in front of you sha (just be ready cos they’ll diss you and talk about how they just fucked you this way and that cos they’re hoping you are conservative and care cos you’re looking for a good husband one day, and your reputation and prospects are fucked cos the world world knows you a pussy slut bitch) Simply understood and may be referred to as the annihilate any threatening(yes feel free to be satisfied based on the fact that you have been identified as a *threat*) and rebellious female specimens they MUST submit under the power of the almighty and omnipresent DICK aka phallus.
So if you are looking for that good man to marry beware if not then fuck away. Anyways i already paid my paid (see in the eyes of my ex hubby my worth was depreciated because of the fact that i was not the holier than thou good princess whore and even more so because because even on my best days i was not a good pretend one, i was also generally unwillingly at least act like one and was mostly in fact committed to not looking, dressing, presenting, sounding like one ) maybe thats why the mutherfucking ex hubby of mine thought it was worth it to drag me around the house, call me a slut and tell me that he i was lucky cos if he had known how much of a slut i was then he wouldn’t have fucked me, not even with two rubbers.
Needless to say i quickly pointed out that he was more of a slut than i would ever be in terms of the number of ppl he had fucked and the types of sexual scenarios he’d gotten into and the number of women he’d fucked in one day but wait YES: that period of fucking around “when you are young” is officially sanctioned by patriachy and really doesn’t count as a defamation of his character and morality..in fact it was a testament of his good upstanding character and morality and ethics that he had learnt from the error of his “stick a dick in anything that walks” days and was now careful as opposed to terrified of catching an STD/AIDS or worse getting one of those “his bitch whores” pregnant and forever ruining his fucking chances of finding that holy princess goodgirl. In fact, i was less of a SLUT, because i was never and i am committed to and really do go out of my way at my own expense, too often, waaaaaay too often at my own expense to be honest about my sexual behaviours and partners all for he sake of making sure that i do not buy into the fucking sexual conservatism and control over my body that makes the words slut, bitch, whore so fucking powerful, see i didn’t have to read for that life lesson i learnt it when after i got raped, like most igbo girls , my parents decided out of thier concern for my future prospects in a culture that regarded a womans pussys as part of her worth an an indicator of her character and virtue as future property of her husband (hence the obsession with how many fucking people you’ve been with because it’s not really how many people you as a woman have been with its how many people your husband has been with, how many people your husband has shared the pussy that he “paid” so much money for for free and how many dicks have diped into his property, they were and will forever be tresspassers to the hubby because that pussy, your pussy was always it, it was meant for him and is only for him, the more tresspassers, the more sexual experience or in my case the more unwilling you are even if it is only in theory as was with me and not in practise, i allowed him to see to that then you can expect rage, resentment from “denying” him, his right, his entitlement as a man, his full and unquestioned ownership and power over your pussy.) And until he has it, theoretically and otherwise he is not fully a man in your eyes…he will say/think that you cannot view him as a man until you had it over.
Needless to say women obsess over thier dick too, now i’m starting to get the whole and two become thing, but men have a patriachial naija social structure culture that expands thier manhood the more they spread it around. His friends, family and everyone else in between will openly or somehow support him, he will be doned with “player” status..he can conquer and own not just one pussy but 2, 3, 4, 5 and is therefore as strong as manly as virile as 1,2,3,4 MEN. See that there is my standpoint on being the “other woman” who i have been and am often invited to be, mostly because of my understood “depreciated value status” but to keep it REAL, i would consider the other woman status as long as i had my own freedom as in i still owned my pussy and I was KEPT, i mean KEPT, monthly allowance, rent/mortgage, etc but none of the men i know would sign up for that.
The one that has fucked but acts like a good girl, lets him dominate her sexually and in not sexually enthused not does she care for sex much beyond pleased the formidable dick of her naija lover/prince/king and the creator sanctioned act of procreation among man and wife. He will pledge his undying love for this woman based on the expectation and knowledge that no matter how many times he hits her/no matter how many he dips his marauding dick into the diseased honey pot of women who are nothing more that bitch whores who cannot control thier urges and keep thier legs together she will never stray from her one and only dick. She will always wait for her one and dick and she will accept her prodigal dick when it comes back to her.
We fought me and my igbo “good boy” exhubby EVERYDAY on shit like this. Even my couples counsellor said that she felt that we were two icons not two beings in a conversation because i refused to throw out and banish the voices in my head from too many books, from wanting something to change in the way that naija women allowed themselves to unneccessaryly be ruled/collude in thier own oppression, because i did not want to or rather was no longer interested in colluding to my own oppression…i was trying to work things out. I watched my mother, groan and grunt under patriachial oppression in a marriage, she stayed with a partner who was unfaithful to her and then beat her to pieces *literally* based on accusations of infidelity and too much “iwaanya” basically she was shining her eye too much, she was not submissive enough.
My counsellor, a woman betrayed me saying that i was too much of a feminist and that ex hubby should leave me couching it in words like i never talked about my feelings (which i did..but i was looked to for all the fucking analysis while my intelligent good husband-because he allowed me to drag him to couples counselling for no apparent reason other than slight emotional, physical abuse that was reduced to “incidents”, which till today have allowed him to continue to minimize the severity of his action and to attempt to convince me that somehow i am exaggerating bu thank god..i saw my mother live through what she did and endure what she did and fight for her space and freedom much later on..tooo much later on but at least she put on a fight and if she could then by fucking christ i CAN TOO. )…i’m like feelings. why not ask him how he feels that he can say such demeaning, dehumanizing, mean spirited and cruel tings to someone that he SAYS he loves. Just so that he can control her? Which mouth are you going to come and kiss the person, tell the person you love them?
and people say that i carry things for too long that i am not forgiving. I spoke to his mother, he called her trying to appease me and trying to get me to stay so that he can get his fucking papers for free. His mother said that papers aside, her son loves me, that it is not too bad, that i should forgive him, that he will NEVER do it again. I felt soo sad, i thought wow, so now i get to look like the unforgiving akata bitch that is trying to ruin her son’s life just because of a little incident, the insolent akata that has no regard for the words of her elders who know best. It broke my heart, i wanted, i need an alliance with this woman, she is the matriach her son NEVER makes a move without her overall approval even though he doesn’t know it. I tried to explain that there wasn’t one incident, ther wasn’t two, three or four and as ashamed as i am to tell..it’s true. There was a whole climate of fear, of intimidation, of emotional blackmails and attacks to my consciousness..its like a virus, it was everywhere. I wanted to tell her that it was even in this call, i did not consent to the call, i did not agree to speak to her, i did not even have time to prepare both he wanted to call and hedid and me out of my own fear and desire to please reacted according..another button pushed…
It’s not that i am not forgiving, i am bitter, because the impact and the implication of those words ALONE are not gone. I’m still feeling them. IT hurt. I’m human not some feminist statue that needs to be knocked down at all costs. Above all that i was his wife.
In the end i think i idealized hetero, monogamous marriage more than he EVER did because to me he should have treated me like his queen, like someone he loved and cherished not someone he would readily and easily harm (but isn’t that the very design of hetero marriage to subjugate a woman, keep her always on her knees, ISn’t that what i knowingly and willfully signed up for? I guess that’s the utility of the myth of romantic love, love was to cover and shield me and allow me to stay in denial…when all else fails tell a woman that you love her that she is the ONE. And me, a romantic fool for *LOVE*, i have not given any serious thought to how beneficial it is to the perpetuation of violence in he lives of woman helping me to believe in a false solidarity that is really only sided, a solidarity with patriachial hetro monogamy + marriage all so that i can decieve myself into thinking that i had ownership of my very own dick that was really just on a temporary to possibly permanent lease depending on my performance in adherence to strict terms and conditions), I’ve always wanted my very own dick, my knight in shining armour, my igbo okonkwo..still working of disarming that virus!
but his willingness and easy readiness to do me harm and stop at no lengths simply to control me or acquire my obedience….should have been a clear sign of where his heart was..maybe she was right after all it would have helped if i was to have just talked about my feelings instead of using politics to analyze everything..but it was from politics that gave me the insights to think what i did and feel the way hat i did. anyways if you’re going to counseling, marriage counselling MAKE SURE your counsellor has a feminist standpoint/praxis.
I am learning not to willingly, subject myself to oppression, to aquiesece to it, to submit to it and least not without a fight and on my good days i think that it is simply worth doing..for my own sanity for my own peace, peace of mind.
I think about my ex hubby and how sometimes i feel like i have lost soo much i feel like i will never know..i think that he was offering me a kind of exchange oppression but really what it was was just space more space for him to experience things and be supported without oppression to realize his full sexual self to explore things that gender bending, cross dressing and BDSM meanwhile i was stuck in some kind of flasback of marriage where i was rotting, i was decaying i was not explorin the things that really interested me and in the mean time i had to live with a man who questioned my intelligence, my sense of worth because of my disability and my loyalty? or is it personal ethics because i was forcing him to move and stretch and shift in ways that he NEVER imagined and it was ALL for my benefit.
The only thing is, it wasn’t for my benefit..i wasn’t quite there..yes no doubt i benefited from having a husband and the immediate hetero validation and communal respect that goes along with that but its not like it was getting me a job or anything..i’m not playing that particular game, instead it was affecting , my lesbian rep which is sad and a whole topic on its own. Sexually i was not expanding i was regressing, same with emotionally etc and i was starting to realize that in the choices that i started to consider and worse in the choices that i made and actually lived with. for ex: after a man threatened me physically i went ahead and married him..of course i took secret comfort in the knowledge that if it ever came down to it and it did..i may not win but by sheer volume size i would have a fighting chance and i did have a fucking fighting chance (i have an ex to thank for that)
Knowing how hard it is find people with whom you can be emotionally present with, safely explore gender boundaries with and be queer with ESP naija ppl they are theoretically not even supposed to exist. I mean he was the only one that i EVER found (but i still have some time and i wasn’t safe with him so who am i fucking kidding) I felt so afraid of letting him go…i was like maybe if i put up with it he will get better, he will learn, he will change, I did to a certain extent..but not untill i left and was faced with the cold hard fact that what i had was precious was REAL resistance in ways that counted. I still feel like which other igbo guy will like me stick something up his ass? that will not be sooo caught up in stupid macho, patriachy, homophobia to allow himself experience that..to push himself to go there, to allow himself to be fucked..the funny thing is i think my ex hubby got it..he understood the fucking sexual politics of getting fucked and thats why he felt the need to demand my attention and assert his authority over me..to basically find other ways to be a “man”, to find other ways to fuck me. Why wasn’t it enough that he fucked me and i fucked him? why wasn’t it enough? why can’t it be enough?
it would be goood, good to actually support him through his process, if i had the support of other like minded ppl to people which reminds me that i did have that at same point but then he never would have had the opportunity nor would i have met him..anyways
The real is that when i remember being afraid of him, when i remember the cold hand of fear sneaking up my back and my impulse to cause him harm..i’m ok to just let it go.
here’s to happy hetero monogamous..hoping to be polyamourous marriage btween two childhood sexual truama survivors…but before i go into all that analytical thought shit which i just am in no state to try and do cos i do not understand really what the fuck happened…instead these are the words i have right now
I’m going through a divorce which is a posting or rather webpage on its own but dear god have i EVER made a mess. But i have learnt the very hard way indeed that stability in my life is worth fighting for see usually when i am in so much fucking pain i find it hard to breathe and my body feels like stone i usually turn my entire life upside down do something that is completely self destructive and makes no sense well at least based on what i sually do so that i can focus my energy on surviving but i worked so hard to move past that that now all i feel is PAIN. I’ve got nowhere to hide, my life in all other respects is relatively under control except for this so i have to DEAL with the fucking PAIN.
Last night at 3am when i couldn’t sleep and realized that i didn’t have anyone to call, anyone to say come over and hold please it hurts so much i think i’m dying….there was no one so i just cried got up had a cigarette to dull; the pain and distract me…the buzz is unbelievable i know i’m soft core. and then i went back to bed and i realized that the smoking, the cleaning, the cooking, the eating are all just distractions and now add this blog are all distractions, distractions from how much pain i’m in.
Oh yeah i started writting again last night a love letter of sorts…see i talk to him but i can’t seem to use english language to communicate the extent of my hurt, how betrayed i feel, how deep the damage is that i give up or at he thouht of giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cry i get angry and scared that i’ll blow it AGAIN. I think i need some definite anger management FOR REAL.
Now i have let my house turn into a sty, clothes, food, hair, blood drops…..NASTY. so this very good sunday i recommit to keeping my home and my space SANE. that and taking my meds…
I wish i could say this is not happening. I wish i could lie and pretend and look strong, put together, not vulnerable and in control but i can’t. I won’t. All the voices are screaming at me i can barely move. I think yes maybe they are right…I am wallowing in a smelly, bloody, pool of self hate, pain and disgust. Its funny REAlly….there is no need to hate me, I already believe you, Yes you are right, I ‘ll scream it if it will make you leave me alone in peace….YOU ARE RIGHT.
I AM the wretched of the earth, I am scum.
You are right I am Accursed from birth, i was a drain, i was the one who took everything from you. YES IT IS ALL TRUE
I say 15 st bridget prayers that my soul may not perish in HELL.
I say 5 decades of the Rosary so that the holy mother may assist my soul.
I say the 3 holy prayers as an act of mercy on my dying soul.
my sentence: a life ALONE and far far far far away from you.
and continued
Today i got up looked around at my filthy apartment well messy said my 15 st bridget prayers and i decided that i should allow my self another lease on my life. I should get to say what it is that i want for my self and to do to take the time to just reflect and create the me that i would like to be so i got up had a dk oh yeah i had the most vivid dream last night.
I went to bed after ex hubby(i should explain that i do not mean this in an entirely patriachial heterosexist way even though it is a constant reminder to myself in th ways that i conceeded and compromised on my values, my refusal to do so and the consequent price of my concession. See right now i must be made to suffer and i understand I FUCKING get it. I dared to be a nigerian lesbian who married a nigerian man, i dared to question patriachy i dared to demand that i be treated with respect and a human, living thing, i dared to expect and to settle for nothing and I LOST….big fucking surprise there. but anyways i am NOT the harmless victim i think that i have actually morphed into something that scares the fuck out of my n ways that i would NEVER ever say out loud. I fought back no holds bared and i intend to continue to fight to the very bitter end. why? well two reasons off the top of my head well first of I AM WORTH IT. sing it girl!!!! secondly i am wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy too mutherfucking tired of running, rinning everytime i am hurt or scared and calling myself gansta, falling to pieces everytime that there is conflict cos the little girl in me thinks that she’ll get fucked. This time around i’m GROWN. I am a tweny something who has lived as much as people like to say that i back away from life and i am NASTY, cold and calculating and I can do some mutherfucking damage….i mean i’m a good fucking catholic girl and would rather not but i CAN and i will so i hold her, shield her, tell her it’s alright baby i got you and NOONe’s fucking with you AND i repeat AND getting away with it. )
So yes last night after threatening me with all kinds of ridiculous and sometime really scary shit based on the information that i had foolishly offered thinking that i was “in love”/sharing to create a trustworthy worth my while relationship he calls back several times to apologize, my heart broken and rapidly turning cold i resist the urge to defile based on the very melly recesses of my hottest rage and quietly say “ok”. he buys it?? and leaves me much to my gratitude.
I’m quickly reeducating that drama that emotional rollercoaster the constant struglle push and pull is something else it is not “LOVE”. I have come the rather difficult conclusion i might add that it is best for me to never ever initiate communication of anysort with the mutherfucker, ex hubby. Even though i still rubb my clit and juice up to the memory of reaming his round luscious ass, digging in with my fingers to his raw moans even though, i immediately get that clit jump/twitch at the thought of how i used to ride that cock of his while he begged and pleased and called me his mistress….that was LUST. good lust but LUST nonetheless. I tell myself that i will find another human being a compatible one with me who will not judge me or at the very least who will not be violent with me and will love me and appreciate what a truly compassionate, hardworking, intelligent person that i am.
One of my guys friends kept asking me if he was insecure/intimidated by me or thinking tht he was not good enough for me and i’m like well why not just DEAL…thats what the counselling was for but needing to be the manly man that he was he would admit to feeling inferior to a girl with a disability who is fat NO NEVER. It’s not i’m a “bombshell” anorexic bith so why treat me with any respect/common human dignity.
I watched my father no doubt from a place of insecurity literally try to extinguish the fire in her so that it would not attract other men, or she wouldn’t feel too much of herself and leave but i’m saying though why not just be a better man? for your own damn good?
so thats what i’m going to try and do forward movement according to FELA and try very fucking hard this time….slowly but surely to be a fucking better self actualized person. that doesn’t i wont fuck but no relationships for a good while i thought i was ready when i met him but i guess from that experience i know that i am not.
so off to try and be a better person starting with organizing all my papers that have turned my desk area into a MESS and putting away the clothes that i painfully laundered only to drop them on the floor and then siply do some fucking reading one step at a time…at least my house is no longer a pig sty and relatively presentatable as long as you do not open the closet or look at the desk area.
and yes… scraping still
I just want to bitch and man about the complete and total fuckery that this mutherfucking man continues to come up with that i was STUPID/desperate/lonely/self loathing/self disgusted/somutherfucking beat DOWN that i actually used to take from him and I ACTUALLY used to RESPOND to his bull fuckery.
For instance..hubby did something bad and got CAUGHT and tried to blame it on me because i fucking expect too much and demand too much from the broke ass unmotivated SLOW as FUck scrub, if you cant afford me mutherfucker, if you can’t live to my MODEST lifestyle DO NOT expect me to fucking reduce myself to poverty which i am barely trying to float in just cos you can’t deal or whatever HUSTLE bitch HUSTLE…grow the fuck up
Anyways so after we break up and he thinks that all cool with him and me stupidly comforted by the fact that he actually had a good job, dare i say IT, this poor student was fucking finally tired of carrying that grown ass man. I cannot even talk how many times I paid for the groceries bought him designer clothes and SHIT for the house that we lived in together!!!!! I thought patriachy was about men taking care of thier mutherfucking women otherwise why the fuck would i put up with this shit.
Anyways..we sign a deal, sealed with a kiss..he thinks he’s going to lose his job and renegotiates what he was once willing to pay well over 5k for is now to be given to him because of ….ladies and gentlemen you guessed it LOVE. did i tell this mutherfucker that i LOVED him in any way. NO i didn’t. No i have refused I barely like him and i tell him CONSTANTLY.
So he loses his job now he’s taken my money and everytime i try to get it back…i haveto come and see him, even though i know everything that he is going through i can’t come and see him and that when i couldn’t sleep he came and held me and we fucked..mutherfucker i let u stick that dick of yours in me isn’t that fucking payment enough and of course i enjoyed it why shouldn’t I?
So after returning his call, several times….yesterday and the day before..he calls this morning expecting that i will leave whatever it is that i am doing, jump into a cab and come and see my “man” and when i refused he resorted to emotional blackmail with the whole but when you needed me i was there line. IN my head i’m thinking. Dear god save me from this conniving, manipulative SON OF A BITCH. For fUCKS SAKE.
I have spared this mutherfucker details of my hearbreak, i have spared him any info about how i am actually doing…i was/am A COMPLETE wreck….can’t leave my house, not eating, smoking at least a pack a day and my throat hurts, its not a fucking dirty competition.
HE does not love ME. I once believed his fucking bullshit. I thought that if he wanted soo much of me all he time that he LOVED me, then he cared for me wHY? because i was feeling too unwanted, too dirty, too monstrous if he will and i felt like he saw me and held me close in spite and with those parts of me in full view i felt that because he was a childhood survivor he would NOT use that shit to emotionally blackmail me…bOY was i EVER wrong. Instead he knew very well how it worked…he knew the exact buttons to push and how to hide and look like he wasn’t, he knew how to make it look like it didn’t matter untill i started to realize that the ONLY way this mutherfucker could EVER trust me was to have me in his full CONTROL and power, was to have me completely manipulatable so that NO MATTER what he did i’d be cool, and down with it, So that no matter what boundaries he crossed i’d be cool and down with it because he loved me and wanted to work things out.
I’d just like to say thank god for the crazy ass destroy everything bitch in me because she definitely has her place and her kept her in, gageed and in check for so long that when she came out, it was time and i WAS SURE…he was not counting on that..that i would and could walk away from EVERYTHING. I’m still working on it but i CAN and will time and time again no mutherfucking REGRETs and i’ll pay the price because afterall i am human.
Anyways when just having another human claim that they loved you and the security of that became NOT ENOUGH thanks to my counsellors…he also became not ENOUGh and not good enough and down right not mutherfucking deserving plain and simple and so bitch you had to go.
I pray i am never that person AGAIn, i pray that i can continue to heal myself so that i do not need someone to fill holes in mylife, maybe thats why i’m liking being myself so much i can hear the holes in my silence and yeah sure i crave to fill them up and then i look for a nice set of fingers or dick to fill my holes.
I think hes shocked that i finally came to my senses befor he could just what he wanted to do/get what he wanted and that hurts cos he was deep in the fucking…but what he doesn’t uunderstand about me is that i’m so fucking used to having to give up body fucking parts to save my soul, to save my integrity to save that dream that vision that i have of becoming a healthy seld actualized happy and content woman. that vision of myself is worth fighting for, it is also worth risking everything for and it is also worth losing everything for.
Thats where i am a steadfast, unflinching, uncompromising feminist.
even though it is so far. The real, i look the man i con dey wonder say na wetin self wey mak me i dey wan kill myself for this man abi na small boy i go call am? no be say the boy dey take care of the house, pepper nko, that wan no even begin to dey rest for the boy hand but i no go lie bobo sabi shook, he’s down with the koko, as in noting wey i go wan make im do wey im no wey do as in whether na to wear woman cloth or even self to give me im gnash make i dey pund dey go…anything as long as say i get my rocks off bobo is down.
Needless to say i quickly pointed out that he was more of a slut than i would ever be in terms of the number of ppl he had fucked and the types of sexual scenarios he’d gotten into and the number of women he’d fucked in one day but wait YES: that period of fucking around “when you are young” is officially sanctioned by patriachy and really doesn’t count as a defamation of his character and morality..in fact it was a testament of his good upstanding character and morality and ethics that he had learnt from the error of his “stick a dick in anything that walks” days and was now careful as opposed to terrified of catching an STD/AIDS or worse getting one of those “his bitch whores” pregnant and forever ruining his fucking chances of finding that holy princess goodgirl. In fact, i was less of a SLUT, because i was never and i am committed to and really do go out of my way at my own expense, too often, waaaaaay too often at my own expense to be honest about my sexual behaviours and partners all for he sake of making sure that i do not buy into the fucking sexual conservatism and control over my body that makes the words slut, bitch, whore so fucking powerful, see i didn’t have to read for that life lesson i learnt it when after i got raped, like most igbo girls , my parents decided out of thier concern for my future prospects in a culture that regarded a womans pussys as part of her worth an an indicator of her character and virtue as future property of her husband (hence the obsession with how many fucking people you’ve been with because it’s not really how many people you as a woman have been with its how many people your husband has been with, how many people your husband has shared the pussy that he “paid” so much money for for free and how many dicks have diped into his property, they were and will forever be tresspassers to the hubby because that pussy, your pussy was always it, it was meant for him and is only for him, the more tresspassers, the more sexual experience or in my case the more unwilling you are even if it is only in theory as was with me and not in practise, i allowed him to see to that then you can expect rage, resentment from “denying” him, his right, his entitlement as a man, his full and unquestioned ownership and power over your pussy.) And until he has it, theoretically and otherwise he is not fully a man in your eyes…he will say/think that you cannot view him as a man until you had it over.