When you listen to most FM radio call-in sessions, Kenyan men are always on the receiving end, with women accusing them of all manner of ills. They go on and on, whining about local men, with their pet topic being how Kenyan men are stingy and not romantic.
Fair enough. There many proven cases of how bad and annoying Kenyan men are. But the million-dollar question is, are our women any better? Keen observations reveal that there is so much stuff that Kenyan women do, which annoy men as well.
Queen of borrowing
First comes women with a poor borrowing culture. When they visit, they want to leave your house with an item. “Wow, I like this book, can I borrow it and return next week?”, “Let me go watch this movie/series, I will return it,” or “can I borrow your extra phone? I will return in two days once I buy mine,” they will beg.
But when you lend them an item, it takes the combined intervention of Recce Squad, Interpol and a global positioning satellite (GPS) device to track it down. Excuses galore. It takes a shouting match or a court order for such types to pay a debt. When you insist, they label you stingy and ungentlemanly. They lose your autographed, souvenir book or music CD and hide behind “haki woiye!”.
Drunk like a fish madam
Then they’re those whom you take out, get drunk and forget themselves. They engage in indecent exposure, dancing with every Tom, Dick and Harry. If you are not keen, they kiss strangers and have no qualms being touched inappropriately in their men’s presence. They are in the habit of turning boyfriends into guard or attack dogs, who have to look after them, warding off mannerless strangers who try to dirty dance with them.
Some get high and start causing trouble and getting their men into unnecessary fights with strangers at night clubs. “Nipige kama wewe ni mwanaume,” they will dare a 200kg heavy bouncer then expect their men to intervene. They start wailing the moment the offended man frowns and cocks a slap, threatening to smack them.
It’s this shameless drunk types whom you take to a live concert, get carried away and, without an ounce of shame, start shouting the name of the celeb on stage, expressing undying love for him.
“I looove you WizKid (Davido, Diamond or whatever ariste is performing), please marry me,” they scream while, get this, firmly perched atop your shoulders. The cheek of it!
Alternatively, you pay her entry fee to an overpriced extravaganza, only for her to vanish and keep making technical appearances, demanding a drink.
Team whiners and gossips
They are always complaining about this or that and backbiting, not just anybody but their so-called ‘best friends for life’. When you see three of them giggling, you would think they’re best of buddies. But wait until one is away.
This group has a variation. It includes the sneering types. Woman, your mother never taught you that sneering is a catalyst for wrinkling? A hot lady catwalks into a room, hugs the man in her (whiner’s) company and she immediately start fuming with a permanent sneer registered on her face throughout the exchange.
Come on Miss Jealous. Stop sneering at women who are cuter than yourself and those dressed better than you. Oddly, these types have a lot of negative stuff to reveal about their so-called ‘bffs’. Plus, they have long-winded tales of a ‘friend’ who wants to steal their boyfriend, or tries to copy their hairstyle or dressing style, or their decorating style. Listening to such women whine, you need tremendous amounts of willpower to suppress a yawn.
You might think you have many problems, until you meet a Kenyan girl and ask her to open up about stuff that is bothering her. Her general body disposition, screaming body language, speech and tonal variation and the number of ‘woiyes’ she uses to punctuate her sentence will bring tears to your eyes.
How many times have you heard a woman make an urgent SOS request, only for you to rush to her rescue, panic-stricken and sweating, expecting a tragedy or crisis, only to discover she misplaced her mascara or chipped a nail while cleaning.
Abusers of gentlemen’s generosity
In these hard economic times, no man, even a ‘sponsor’, wants you to show up for a date with a hungry, thirsty crowd girlfriends. It is such characters who, despite being weaned on local beer brands, asks for expensive, foreign drinks with names they can’t pronounce, just because the man said ‘feel free to order anything you want’. Lanes!
They abuse men’s generosity and order for food that cost an arm and a leg, which, annoyingly, they toy with and only nibble on the salad, which they abandon halfway because they are trying to posture as ‘ladies’ who don’t eat much.
But wait until you secretly trail them, you will see them, trying to squeeze madondo chapo and mutura into their handbags from the dingy neighbourhood kibanda.
Their hangers-on and party poopers hover around like hawks, making it difficult for the man to dispense the all-important honey-coated lyrics to his object of desire.
Ms Freebies, ever looking for free lunch
Good Lord, Miss Freebies, didn’t your mother teach you men hate needy women?! This woman likes free things. Free movie or concert tickets, free drinks, free rides, free airtime. Free! Free! Free! You would be forgiven for thinking ‘Free’ is her middle name because if you shouted ‘free’ when she’s within earshot, chances are she will look over.
Girls, listen and listen good. Free things always haunt. Learn to spend your cash. Why the allergy to opening your purses? That, after all, is what equality — which you always shout about from rooftops — is all about. There’s no such thing as a free lunch around here.
Team clueless who interrupt sports
Then we have annoying types who interrupt sports. Your Arsenal FC is trailing Liverpool FC. And just when you’re holding your breath over a goal-mouth melee, the bothersome woman pokes you in the ribs and blurts: “Awww... that Liverpool dude is so cute.”
Also, enough of the blanket condemnation of men. Just because one cheated on you, don’t call all men dogs. We are not going to take that insult lying down. There are many nice guys out there, don’t ask me where to find them.
Meanwhile, ladies, playing hard to get is out of vogue. Men have no time to decode those mixed signals. It is either a yes or no-pronto. Last but not least, must you copy dress? Almost every woman in Nairobi owns this bandage-like skirt with black and white stripes. Is that Kenya’s new national dress? I must have missed the memo.
It is like there is a memo that is periodically send out to all women, directing them on what to wear. A few years back it was the crop top, then came pencil, hipster, jumpsuit, peplum and so on. They all now have that pajama-like getup.
Others insist on wearing miniskirts even when it’s clear Mary Quant didn’t have them in mind when she invented it. As a man, you see such and can’t help but gasp: “Jeez, I can do better in a skirt compared to her!”
You can deny this kind of woman food but please, for heaven’s sake give her attention. She can’t survive without it. It is her oxygen. She never tells men that she is taken. So she keeps entertaining flirts, suggestive compliments and leads on men, knowing too well she is taken. She keeps such men hovering around to massage her ego and boost her self-esteem with regular compliments.
You could be having a quiet drink with her on a date, hoping to have some quality time but she can’t put down her phone. It’s constantly busy like a switchboard, with texts and calls coming in, some of them from a man who has been hitting on her from way back in her kindergarten days! Need I talk about their other variation, the drama queens? That requires an entire feature.