By Maryam Raji
Men, paternity, wives, families, societies, girl children. This subject does not even relate nor pertain to Feminism. It was triggered and fueled by the feeling of humanity.
Why is it that humans are not sated? Is it some innate nerve, in us, or a doing of ours? I’ve heard a lot of stories about families who have tasted the bread of calamity on the table of hopelessness. They drank a fair share of the muddy tea of men’s wickedness and expectedly, they were shattered.
It all started when the bride birthed a rosy, pinkish baby girl. Then the girl had a sister, another sister, again, and again. The bride birthed a wagon of girls. The groom, who almost ran into the door on the wedding day befuddled with love, transformed into the heartless Father who wanted a progeny of his own kind, by all means.
I would be the bride, please hear me out. “I had beautiful girls, but they were never enough. My mum made me drink potions, herbs—crap, crap. I drank till I couldn’t differentiate the taste of bitterleaf from kolanut, of this leaf from that tree. My friends taught me how to make angles while doing the bedroom thing with my groom, 360 degrees, 270 degrees, so that the result would come out pleasing—crap, crap. I burned the midnight lamp with my cries, give me any abracadabra, I’ll say it and add the suffix, “I need a son.” My mother-in-law was a nice woman, she never hit me, but instead gave me a set of names. I couldn’t birth an heir. I was useless”.
I’m not the bride anymore. You might want to know why I’m spewing, but why won’t I? It’s not happening anymore in your own side of the world, but it is, here. It’s happening, and, it’s real.
Why can’t we look past the sheen, and see? Ask a barren couple, whose test tubes keep going down the drain. Ask them about the emptiness, about having the walls answer your cries. Ask them and you’ll treasure your girls. You still aren’t convinced, marry a castrated man, tie knots with a woman without a fallopian tube, and see.
Yes, we are getting more civilized than this bullshit. But, I’m spewing now, and every other day, so that you would remember, dear man, woman, in-laws, society; when that day finally comes, and the Lord throws you a bundle of girls to manage, to raise, you would know better than to act like a lunatic.