A Short Note To Myself…By Odolaye Aremu
“…who are we kidding when we acclaim the freedom of the modern Nigerian woman? She’s a slave to the Capital which is still solely in the hands of the Man holding her leash; a pint of rubbish in the huge dump of Culture, Tradition and Religions. A perpetual victim of her times, severely adjudged by the hues and shades of her skin tone; the points, her curves, contours and her other affecting physical attributes! She’s burnt out by the very hot stress of her own gradual development- knowing she’s expendable. A replaceable log of wood condemned to the burning embers of her own insecurities. Yet she dutifully feeds the man his daily meals, satisfies his burning urge to ejaculate his seeds into her tidy hole; just as she took on his volcanic wrath the night before- with a smack and right in her tired face! She’s up early on the next day with a cloudy puff in one hand and a tin of pancake talcum in the other- to powder her face to begin another run of her daily competition- with herself and her other phantom Belles for the affection of her oppressor- who is her man by the way. Her mind is clogged but she seems free- the ceiling seems high but she’s on a short leash. From 1960 till this minute, not much has changed! It’s still The Man’s World; she’s only living within it, walking carefully about on egg shells, surviving on his whims, abiding by his rules or else…
Who's she to complain to? Between the collusion of Culture and Religion, she's just on her own! And the legislations written with her in mind and for her protection are just window-decorations for legal studies- to train others who would probably never cite them or invoke them into series of action. There are primal disconnections between some men and their mothers- hence there's never a second thought to repress, oppress or depress the women they encounter. There are primal disconnections between some women and their fathers- hence there's never that second thought about running eyes wide open into the open arms of an abuser- or just about any men they encounter.
The gifts of cash or luxury items and rides in exotic cars in exchange for sleep-overs cannot duly compensate for the rights, wily coerced or forcefully evicted out of them. The few ones managing their careers at the top in corridors of power and within oak-paneled boardrooms are still seen in the same view as those “workers of iniquities” seen parading about for johns on the streets of Ajegunle or Ikeja in Lagos; or Prato and Firense in Italy and other places abroad. The nasty names we call our women are now anthems and tardy songs on the lips of foreigners- and they are singing and we seem to rejoice in joining them to sing sad songs! What a shame!
Let's unleash these women! Let's empower them-fully and let's stop the damn lip services following it! Let's sing their praises in public and suspend the stinging rebuke till we are sure the coast is all clear. For the curses raging on in our land could by any chance be relatives of our various wickedness to our women. I pray for a new dawn that shall bring in a new rain that shall sweep in men and women of power with no disconnection between the lines of love connecting them to their Mothers, Wives and Daughters; as much as the women with strong bond between them and their Fathers, Husbands and Sons. Maybe that's when we shall start making some headway."-Odolaye Aremu @ Wakajaye Oko Etile.