Shady femi-nazis in the last decade that we just left behind coined a phrase — ‘toxic masculinity’ — that they like throwing at all manly behaviour.
The funny thing is these self-righteous twats are often the type of needling ‘artistes’ (lesbians who dedicate poems to their private parts!) or bitter, barren divorcees in NGOs.
Talking and twitting about ‘toxic masculinity’ 24/7/365. I like that our in-house ‘feminist’ Beryl prefers to worry about us urbanites who visit ‘shags’ — then behave like city locusts by carting back chicken, mangoes, potatoes, groundnuts and all sorts of vegetables at the boots and backs of our cars — to get us through the long nJaanuary.
At the turn of the year, though, one hero (who calls himself ‘Underrated Ninja’) started a thread about what our TOXIC MASCULINITY is holding us back from doing.
‘I’ve never marched in a wedding,’ the Ninja confessed, before asking: ‘Fellow Black Kings, what is your toxic masculinity holding you back from doing?’
My personal toxic masculinity holds me back from carrying a woman’s handbag, or even holding it. I simply do NOT understand those ‘men’ who carry their woman’s handbag, especially in public. If you were a double amputee, I still wouldn’t carry your handbag!
Karanja Njuguna says his stops him from taking a piss while looking down. ‘Mwanaume ni kukojoa akiangalia ceiling ama sky.’
Ian says his Toxic Masculinity (TM) can’t allow him to shut his eyes when his male barber is applying spirit on his shaven scalp. For Moses, he can never move into the woman’s house.
Joseph says his will not let a fellow man sit down next to him in a matatu, when there are several other empty seats in the PSV, and I agree. I once asked such a feller in a South B ma-three: ‘Kwani we ni pickpocket?’
Billy the Goat said he cannot cook with ‘hio pro gas ya PINK.’ ‘Kama sina green cylinder ya Safari Supa Gas, I’d rather cut up my bed, look for three stones niseti meko, and use the kitanda frame as firewood. I cook, then afterwards sleep on the cold floor. Like a gangster in Industrial Area rumande.’
Peter Oduor said his TM prevents him from drinking soda from a straw. ‘I’d rather buy a syringe and inject that soda straight into my veins, like a Sprite addict or drip patient.’
For Gatune, carrying veggies home in those pink, red or purple bags is a no no. ‘Afadhali nipepete hizo tomatoes na vitungu all the way, mpaka nifike kwa keja.’
Borana says he can never post or ‘recognise’ his birthday on social media. ‘Every year I’m hustling, nikingoja kifo, bwana. Ati HBD?!’
Ivan the Terrible says his TM prevents him from EVER attending a wedding. ‘Even when it will be my turn, I’ll tell them to do it; then bring me the ring and the cert for me to sign at my local, which is where we’ll be holding the evening party.’
Hiram West’s TM stops him from ever carrying a brolly, ‘ata ka inayesha misumari (nail rains).’
Ouma says his TM makes him eat sweet bananas as if they were groundnuts, while Askofu Mwana Mwede cannot stand sitting in that in-between seat next to the PSV driver. ‘Heri nifungwe juu kwa carrier ya mizigo!’
Brian Mokaimo believes no real African man should be caught carrying a water bottle. ‘Carry that water in your stomach like a camel,’ he advises.
Player confessed his TM cannot allow him to buy a towel. ‘Mwanaume ni kutingika kama mbwa until you are DRY!’
Evans Tallam says when he mounts a boda boda, no holding the waist of huyo msee wa boda. ‘Nakaa kama nimeangalia penye tumetoka ...’
Eddie Wonderman claims his TM holds him back from looking at a mirror because ‘the hell I wanna see another man for?’ That is a semaphore!
At the start of this year, take a good long look at yourself: and declare the 2020s your decade of not being an effete dandy.
The decade that you grew a pair, became tough as nails, and helped make being masculine great; without whining about everything all the time.
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