Girl code: Dear men, why do traditions favour you?

African society has always found a way of making us do things we never thought we would ever do. Sometimes, we find ourselves doing things not because we would wish to but because society dictates so.

For instance, who said women should sleep next to the wall and men near the door in a matrimonial bed? Have men ever considered how hard it is to jump over an obstacle in the wee hours of the night to go and answer the call of nature?

When I was pregnant, this thought never left my mind. I kept thinking, what if I was married and had to cross over my man every half an hour to go pee? If men are truly as strong as society portrays them, they should then sleep on either side of the bed, especially when living in a small house that doesn’t allow the luxury of having a bed placed at the centre of the room to give each party an equal chance to get off the bed.

I know some of you will claim that men should sleep next to the door in order to provide protection in case of an attack. From experience, the window is more likely to be used to access the room more than the door. If a wire is not being forced into the room via the window, then some sleeping gas is being spread from the same place.

It’s even worse if you live in the rural area. Termites will be thrown into your house from the window. I mean live termites, those with yellow heads and mouths that resemble that of a scorpion and a behind that looks like a well diapered baby. I know because I have come across such cases. Imagine if you are the one sleeping next to the window and termites get to you first! Men should just sleep on whichever side their partners don’t choose. Let each person face the consequences of the side they pick.

This same society has forced women into feeding on very annoying parts of chicken yet they are the ones breathing in the smoke and chopping onions to prepare the meal. Men, you are not going to come from nowhere and choose to eat the gizzards and the drumsticks then leave me the neck and the back of the chicken. There’s barely any meat on the neck and the back is always harder that the teeth of a hyena. Let’s not even go to the feet with intestines wrapped around it. You would think it’s some money plant coiling its way around a pole.

I know I recently said I did not go to Beijing to fight for women’s rights but this seriously needs a sit down. I am not trying to say we are on the same lane as you, I am just against the society adjusting our lives to suit men’s happiness. Can we just agree that whoever gets to the serving pot first eats whatever they want? No need having my meal at seven in the evening crushing on a chicken’s back then leave the drumsticks and the gizzard to someone who will check in past midnight.

One more thing, our dearest husbands, no one said you should be the first to wash your hands during a meal. Let whoever is nearest the tap wash their hands first. If I am going to help a group of people wash their hands, can I kindly be allowed to do that from one end to another? It’s just logical that I wash your hands in some understandable sequence.

One time I was tasked to wash the hand of a group of visitors during a burial ceremony. I have never felt so humiliated. I stood with my jug and basin at one far end and asked whoever I was next to wash his hands. I was quickly ordered to stop and told to do it from the eldest to the youngest, keep in mind, they were in a random sitting position and were all strangers to me. How then was I supposed to differentiate the early man from the homo habilis and homo erectus in the room?

I felt like asking them all to rise and sit according to their ages before I went on with my task. But you know my mama brought me up well, I went walking from one person to another asking, “Who’s next” till I finished. You can never find this kind of complication among women.

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