Most times, I find myself in a fix when guys who have read my notes on Facebook or posts on this site ask me why I hate men or what I hold against them. I have found myself listening to psychological theories of how what happened to you as a kid affects how you behave as an adult or how you relate with people, i.e. some guys even go to the extent of implying that I might have been molested as a kid or physically or emotionally abused. When I think of this, the absurdity of it is very obvious because since I was a kid, I had around me good men. Discipline was instilled in me the African way but not by a man. It was my mother who used to pinch us crazy and that woman was tough on us such that she just asked you to walk to wherever she was to get discipline instilled in you and we always found ourselves doing that because the consequences of running away were harder than we could bear. After that we did hold a semi meeting and talk bitterly of how we were not to help that woman when she grew old. We always laugh at those memories when we meet as a family.
My dad was a good man and he rarely if ever, raised a hand against us and we always whispered behind my mum’s back of how it would be fun to live with dad. We loved it when he got home before mum because it meant he would prepare supper which would be without vegetables, that meant lamb meat which was and still is our favorite and something else unlike mum whose meal always had some greens and sometimes she made us drink milk or eat arrow roots which mostly ended up under our seats and when she found them, we would be in trouble. School meetings were for dad because that then meant lunch before we got home, sitting with his grown up friends and he would brag of how bright we were then later gifts. If dad was going for a trip, we wanted to go and if dad was remaining at home then we were remaining at home. Most of my childhood memories are on when we used to jump on dad’s back when he was lying on the grass for fun. I always did envy my brothers who went fishing and I had to be at home to watch my little brother. Every time my dad went out for business, we would ran to meet him and I remember this time we ran to meet him just to find it was our neighbor dropping off some stuff at our home and we had to hide in my mum’s vegetable garden so that he couldn’t see us. My mum and dad had their fights and more often they were stupid arguments about who would take the kids if they separated and then my dad would tell my mum she had no kids and we used to love that.
My dad’s brother has always been a great father to me and it’s apparent that I will never grow up to him. I remember once his wife said I had a boyfriend and he quickly said I was a kid and I was not to be viewed otherwise yet I was twenty one. He is amongst the few good men that the world will live to see.
My mum’s brother; I knew him since forever and he stopped carrying me on his back when I was a big girl. I envy his wife everyday when we meet because when they start talking, it’s like the rest of us aren’t around and it is like he is hitting on her again yet they have been married for fourteen years now. That is the man I always ran to when I had issues and most likely is the first man that will know when I commit myself to some guy.
In my life I have encountered good men and I always thought all men are supposed to be amazing until I got exposed to real issues that women experience with men. Today, I hear less of good men and more of bad men. Any guy who will tell me that I have something against men, I dare them to give me the story of a good man worth writing and I will give the story of a better woman worth publishing.