Hail the KenyanGentleman, Romanceand Vaseline

Gentleman, you dump your
football buddies to go comfort a
girl who has been dumped or
cheated on? And not just
comfort her, you draw Xs and
Os on her ex-boyfriend portraits and giggle as you do so! After
all this she tells you how nice
you are and how wonderful your
shoulder is to cry on! You forfeit
a date with your buddies at the
watering-hole to go watch another mundane episode of
Congestina and Sebastian? Doing these things make you the
man the ladies love to call when
they are in problems and never
the one to be invited during the
happy times and certainly not
when they are considering settling down, whatever that
means. In short, you reduce
yourself from a potential alpha-
male to just another male who
is viewed in terms of body parts
and not as a whole. You have shoulders to be cried on and
not for her head to rest on,
and your hands are for opening
doors and not touching, et
cetera. What loss! What defines a Kenyan
gentleman? Ask the ladies and
among the long list of slavery-
oriented duties, are pulling
chairs, opening doors and
listening to her during a Manchester-Arsenal game. It is
common, and very boring,
hearing the ladies rant and rave
about the apparent lack of
gentlemanliness amongst (us)
Kenyan men. I do not know about you but I sure can speak
for myself and my ego, which
might be a general view as far
as I know. And all of you, who
think you are gentlemen since
you pull chairs and open doors, unthink, and then think again.
That is a Stone Age definition of
a real Kenyan man and woe
unto you Semenyites who do
not know the responsibilities of
manhood. Take offence if you are a chair-puller and a door-
opener, for that is the first
outcome of hen-pecking and
making your small head a big
seat for some lazy and heavy-
handed lass. So what if you pull chairs and
open doors? That is the work of
watchmen and gate-keepers and
not a man aiming to impress and
win over the love of a woman.
Look, believers in Darwinian evolution have made a few
people profess the existence of
hairy and brainless ancestors to
them, and many men are falling
victim to this net of blind
gentlemanliness. They are copying their ancestors,
especially when it comes to the
brainlessness, not as much for
the hairiness. Whether you believe in Darwin
or The Good Book, none of
these pseudo-duties are
stipulated as being for the
(Kenyan) man! There were no
doors in the Garden of Eden, neither were there chairs in the
Stone Age, so where did this
shebang of pulling and opening
come from? And as far as I
know, doodling over an ex-
partner’ s photo was never part of the Y-chromosome. I do
not stand to be corrected. Listening to someone whine
during a soccer match is painful
to say the least. Buying flowers
when sukumawiki is becoming a
rarer, and even semi- romantic,
indulgence than flowers is evil and should be punished by
Maendeleo ya Wanaume (and
condemned by Atwoli). When a
Kenyan man loves, he does so
truly and quantifying his
commitment by comparing him to a watchman or a door-keeper is
simply not fair. We are products of our
environment and we should thus
be judged. Taking care of a
woman is hard enough and if
one offers to do so, praise is to
him. Imagine hustling through 8-4-4 and the non-existent job
market just to come back to a
woman who tells you that you
should be opening doors,
bringing flowers and kissing her
in front of her friends! Where did she get these ideas from?
You ask her. And she gladly tells
you that is what the blue-eyed
Sebastian does to Congestina
every other night! Next time she
asks about this, tell her to show you even one blue eye during a
Kisumu demonstration. If she
succeeds, tell her that you will
kiss her in public if a Sebastian
Makokha kisses a Catalina Apiyo
in public! Western public display of affection is simply not
synonymous with our African
culture and that is a fact. I am
not against affection, I am not
against soap-operas and neither
am I anti-gentlemanliness, far from it. I am just asserting the
pain that (we) Kenyan men have
to go through in trying to
impress our women and
girlfriends. And worse, being
judged on the parameters of some flowers, seats and doors. Open doors for your woman, kiss
her, pull her chair, cook for her
and even sing her a romantic
song, like TMK’ s Dar mpaka Moro or Chameleone’ s Mama Mia as often as you can, just
make sure these are not your
only source of attachment to
her. Neither should you make
her believe that you do them as
a duty, but as a sign of love and care. So after all is said and
done, still, you have to love
your God, love your job and
then, only then, shall you love
your woman. I have never heard
a case of people feeding and living on love, and I do not think
fried love tastes nice. Cynical? Cheapo? Call me
whatever you like but I have a
reason to support my
soothsaying and nay saying.
Remember the days when ladies
used to demand only Vaseline, Solea or Lady Gay for their
bodies and Hair-Glo for their
beautiful natural hair? What
happened? Nowadays, if not
thousands for manicure, then it
is more for pedicure. If not several hundred for a weave
then it is a wig that covers the
neglected bush inside! Ladies,
just stop beating around the
bush, just make your natural
hair OK, we appreciate it, and unless you are balding, please,
do not indulge in some expensive
plastic, corduroy or nylon weave!
Imagine walking with an umbrella
on your head all the time!!! We have been brought up in a
harsh country and we are to be
cooked for, pampered and
babied, in return we are to
take care of our wives (and
maybe girlfriends) in all aspects. If that means pulling chairs,
opening doors and buying
flowers then I will gladly do it,
NOT! Disclaimer: The writer is an avid
puller of chairs, opener of doors
and is contemplating buying
flowers. He also loves Desperate
Housewives. The article is meant
only for entertainment and criticism. “There is a thin line between truth and fiction. This is that
line.”