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By Bernard Wainaina
CEO,Profarms Consultants®

Feminists in Kenya are going crazy about recent barbaric stripping of ‘indecently’ dressed women in the cities of Nairobi and Mombasa.

I’m not a moralist and I have very little to say about personal dressing choices of our Kenyan ladies,so long as their manner of dressing is not likely to disturb public peace by wearing suicide bomber vests,but just as the next man is wont to do,I thoroughly enjoy the company of ‘decent and cool’ ladies,whatever that means.

A couple of months back, I had travelled to a
neighbouring country — Uganda – and I was
impressed by the kindness and respect women in
that country have for their men.

One evening, I was in a discotheque perched atop a bar stool, from where I was able to scan the dance floor and there was nothing but love displayed among the couples.

I immediately thought about Nairobi, and I imagined the scenes at top entertainment spots in the capital, Kisumu, Nakuru, Eldoret and Mombasa.

I was certain that while beer was the common denominator, that was as far as the similarities go.

The girls I was watching were well dressed with
short, trimmed hair and were drinking from
feminine narrow neck bottles.

I was willing to bet that back home, the women were twerking while drinking Guinness Kubwa.

And while at it, they were jerking their heads full of fake hair from dead damsels and perhaps even goats and horses.

This scenario made me think; just what are we doing to our women that they seem to be losing their feminine touch?

One of the reasons, according to the Council of
Young Elders led by my Male chauvinist Uncle is that the Kenyan woman especially in the working class, is fighting foot and nail to be on the same pedestal with her male counterpart.

Big mistake, if you ask me.

When you down three beers, the Kenyan woman in a bar is never too far behind.

When you buy a round,in the popular ‘lete vile tulivyo’, as soon as you have taken two gulps, your female companion beckons the waiter.

As you assume that she is asking for directions to the rest room, she shouts between gulps, telling the waiter to stop staring at her boobs and bring the beers.

Polite, civil dance

Even before you get a chance to get astounded, she stands up, starts dancing and as you are hoping it is going to be a polite, civil dance she grabs your waist and thrusts herself against your loins like a devil possessed.

You hope it is going to be short, but it is

She is holding you tighter by the minute and to make matters worse, she now starts shrieking in a manner that can be construed to mean that her body temperature is rising like milk on a stove.

You are now stuck between a rock and a hard place, you want to flee from this embarrassment, but as a tough African male, you cannot run away from a woman.

This would embarrass your clan and cause
your father catastrophic embarrassment back in the village.

Soon other people in the bar stop watching football and instead fix their eyes at the disproportionate battle of the bodies that you and your supposed woman are having on the floor.

Suppressed fear

Waiters are passing you with suppressed fear, lest you send them sprawling onto the floor with a tray full of expensive drinks.

But right in front of me, there was none of these
things that we see in Kenya.

The Ugandan girls were sweetly looking in my
direction and when it appeared that our eyes had met, they would tactfully look sideways.

But still leave something for you to read between the lines.

In such a scenario in Kenya, the woman would be winking at you and wondering if you were man enough.

Girls, where did you get all this courage from?

Tone down and just be women. Miniskirts or no miniskirts,there is definitely a way in which women can be women without becoming tomboys.

The we will fall in love with our women,not our tomboys!

“The African Story as told by Africans”.©African News Digest®