Before I left my country, I was a princess. Well not a royal princess, although I do have a great-grand father who was a king and I come from a lineage of traditional chiefs, but no. Honey, in this write up I am referring to being treated like a princess by the men in your life, as a lady, as I was treated. As the ladies knew back home were treated. I am emphasizing lady to mean people biologically born with a vagina, with a womb or uterus, with crazy monthly period hormone shifts, with life carrying blood flowing from their bodies in between tired legs every month. Pretty gory to read right, but that’s truth is not pretty.

 By lady, I am talking about those individuals whom biology and God (whom I do believe in) gave the JOB of bringing life in tiny baby bodies into this earth. I am talking about the people who have a space between their legs through which all humans came to earth. The people who have to eat for two, drink for two, sleep for two and carry two heartbeats sometimes more for 9 months-essentially a whole year of their live per life. It is one of the most serious and scary jobs on earth and there is literary no escape from it. By lady, I am not talking about people who wake up ‘‘feeling female’’ or feeling like ‘‘girls’’ whatever that may mean to them and I write this with loving kindness. I am talking about those saddled with the JOB of being female, doing female, and working as female. The more my hands write these words the more upset I get and the more I realize this will have to be a series so darlings let’s call this write up part 1 shall we?

Now, while still in Nigeria I was literally being pampered but I probably didn’t know it then.  For me, it was just the norm, it was expected. You see the average Nigerian man, or African guy raised on good old brown succulent Africa soil, no matter the bad press the media gives, they know their job as men. They know that biology didn’t give them the job of procreation along with all its drama. They know their job title is different-provision and protection. They would ask me out on dates that they PAY for, with no sexual expectations, spoil me, just to have soft conversation and be surrounded with the refreshing scents and sights of the feminine. One even paid my school fees after he caught me crying following my dad’s death. He saw my red eyes, and immediately offered to pick up the tab. I didn’t even have to ask most of the time. This was normal behavior. Asking a lady to pay was a bloody social taboo with real implications for a guy’s life and future generations.

 Pay with what on a date? Her remaining ovaries? She could sell that for triple the price of male s… or easily get paid as a surrogate mom. The women in my village had a sarcastic response to a guy asking them to pay for anything-they would say ”scrape off the hair on my pubic region and use it as money, since you have no respect for the channel through which you came to earth”…hahah, I know this sounds funny but I am not laughing. Ok, maybe I giggled a bit at that memory but let’s not get side tracked.

The average Nigerian/African man raised in mother Africa that I met knew that women’s biology was their job. Men’s jobs was to use their strength to provide and protect. Simple as abc. Think about it, when God cursed Eve and Adam, he made the biological job of birthing difficult for her, and to Adam he made providing for his family more of a challenge.

These men took pride in being able to support their pride, literally. They weren’t lazy lion’s; they were real tigers. They even sang and bragged about it and here are some few sample lyrics from these songs. You can download the actual songs at the bottom and then we will move to a different place on earth where a certain philosophy is frying females. Her are some illustrative song lyrics;

First Sample; Elo lowo ori e (technically meaning How much do I have to pay on your head/for you to be my wife)
Sho gba 1 milli, 1 million dollar (Will you take a million dollar)
(1 million 1 million)
Tell your mummy I go pay
How much is 1 milli million dollars
1 million Dolapo, You know say na me be OBO
They call me David David dodo (From Davido’s song 1 milli)

Second Sample; So, boy you got to step up the show, realize baby boy this is reality, A woman never gets to woo a man baby, That, is a man responsibility. So, you better come around with your folks, and your kinsmen come see my people. I will never let you down cause my heart is clear, it’s so pure you could see through. My crown/or my king, I’m waiting (I’m waiting oh I’m waiting). Rankadede time is going (time is going) (From Solidstar wait remix ft Tiwa Savage and Patoraking).

Third sample; Come rewind, oh, Girl, I get the money wey fi make you mine, oh, Give you loving’ every night fi make you mad, oh, Na only you give me love wey make me nice, oh
Nice, oh, nice, oh, Haffi make you mine, oh, Girl, I love you, plus I never make you minus. (From Wizkid and Chris Brown’s song Call me).

I especially like the last line that says he won’t make her minus because gurl, some men’s love will kill a girl before she’s ready to die, and really the opposite should be the right thing. A man’s love should increase and add to a lady’s life and elevate her status in life if possible. Are you thinking Christiano Ronaldo and Gina? Are you thinking Davido and Chioma? Ok, let’s go to another part of the earth where some strange thinking is kicking females to the curb, creating deaths in the name of superwomen. Insert Maya’s classic eye-roll.

I will share this post on Friday night. Ladies and gentlemen, hit the newsletter and subscribe already if you haven’t, I know you love this gist…Subscribers also get first access to portions of my new book ‘‘Diary of a Godly Side Chick’’ before it becomes exclusive to only paid members. See you on sunday and as I know you love this post, consider using the green cute coffee button just below to donate by buying me a coffee for 5dollars only. You can do it hon…kiss kiss...