Sign of Victory or Failure?

I can see the colors of the rainbow, I can feel the sun on my face ( not literally, it’s 0230hrs in the morning!! ). I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can feel the heavens in its place, and for me it’s a sign of victory. Now I can see the distance of the journey…women’s journey to liberation. Now, I am sitting on the sofa at 0230hrs writing this while taking black tea, a beverage my bro has noticed I’m addicted to. I mean which Kalenjin isn’t? Before I forget, Congrats to Sahle-Work Zawde, who took over the presidential office on 25 October 2018. For me, this is a sign of our victory as African women...Times are changing.  Moreover, the number of women who ran for election in this year's US mid term elections was at an all-time high, and an unprecedented number ended up winning. Before Tuesday, there were 107 women in Congress, and that figure has been passed. Among the many firsts: the first two Muslim congresswomen, Michigan's Rashida Tlaib and Minnesota's Ilhan Omar; the youngest woman ever elected to Congress. The fact that I’ve witnessed these events during my time is such a privilege and I believe women are yet to prove their worth publicly, not that they ever had to… I mean look at how frightened the boy-child is and always trying the play ‘the victim’ so as to win the woman’s sympathy and empathy...the patriarch days are literally gone…we’ve literally welcomed an era where all humans are deemed equal and worthy…of course not in terms of physical strength nor giving birth though...those aspects remains purely biological. Nonetheless, on the same subject, we often confuse feminism for liberalism. Same way men confuse distorted male chauvinism with masculinity especially amongst the guys I’ve interacted with at Eldoret, where I’ve been living for the past 10 months! ( and damn have i learnt ).  I am not much of a chatter box, In fact my colleagues consider me an introvert, but when it’s a question of whether women are worth a shot, I am all in…ask my work colleagues they’ll attest to this. So it happened that a fortnight ago, I went out with my work colleagues and was approached by some tall, lanky-looking guy dashingly outfitted in a single-breasted blue blazer, white shirt, striped tie and narrow gray trousers. Damn he looked hot, and for me to say this is something…just saying.  He then proceeded with ‘can I buy you a drink’ I know…cliche...ain’t complaining though…he then ordered me a drink having agreed to the his request…( i mean don’t hold it against me, it’s free drinks and I’m a African and a banker ). I found myself chatting with the guy coz it would be terrible lack of manners not to engage him especially after the ‘free drinks’. An hour into the conversation I noted I still had no idea what his name was ( a complete contradiction to the good manners i'd felt the need to portray ) after ranting on about capitalism, idealism, philosophy, religion, weather, politics, world politics, fashion, music, agriculture, technology, marriage, sexual disorientation etcetera. A few minutes later, he started talking sh*t… something along the lines  of ‘most women being gold diggers and shallow-minded’…i know…I lost all the little interest I had immediately..i mean screw his ancestors. I know everything/one keeps reminding me that I’ll have to settle down at some point with some guy blah blah..i’m African after all, but is doesn’t have to be with such losers, right? For the first time I felt violated. Then he was asking me things to do with my future. Where-I-see-myself-ten-years-down-the-line kind of questions. By the way, what is the purpose of torturing oneself with such kind of thoughts other than in a job interview? ... coz let's face it, we always reeeaaally need that job like yesterday, atleast in my experience . These questions, those questions, plus the two beers I had and three shots I’d already gulped, plus the ambience, plus my strong mind and dead brain, plus my fragile heart and essence that already felt violated, gave me a stutter. A stammer and the only words registering were those words I probably had highlighted in articles to look up their meanings but never got to do it. I still wondered why he chose to buy me a drink. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in 2018, I had put on lipstick, and wore a short skirt with a glaring daring front slit with some six inch heels, and a top that accentuated my figure ( one that has always been covered up by buggy blouses and over-sized trench coat s). From the look of things he seemed really ‘successful’, you know, someone-who-knows-his-shit kind and loaded, judging from his well-fitting designer duds and the super classy watch that I swear was worth my entire closet plus my brains obviously. And men……he is doing so well...other than his view of women though. Maybe, thinking ten years ahead of time really did work out for him.  Not that I am badly off myself. I mean I work in a f* bank! ( now I’m trying to convince myself that I’m doing fine here ). Nowadays, I am too busy or too lazy to actually think ahead most of the time. Someday, I’m sure I will have the maturity and the right mind to do it. Now, I am content with smelling tea, studying, tolerating my boss’s frequent mood swings and trying to keep up with current financial news...and my former schoolmates' weddings and baby showers. Nonetheless I still rejoice I get to witness the beauty of living in the 21st century. Other than the more open-mindedness, there’s the acceptance of norms and practices that were by far considered taboo for many years back in our African culture. Now, look at us. Women head nations and drink like no one’s business. Men are irresponsible. There’s lotsa rights going around, be it women’s, children’s, gays’ etcetera. Monogamy means something entirely different in this day from its definition five decades ago. Sex now stands for a totally different thing than it was during our granny’s times. Then there is the fact that women work and drive cars and run the economy. They can divorce and remarry as many times as they feel like. There is so much information floating around waiting for you to sip it in. You just gotta google that sh*t. Earlier today having had a lazy day at work, I was reading short stories by Chimamanda ‘A thing around your neck’. There is a story that always gets my attention, a story of a young Nigerian man who relocates his family o the US but still works from Nigeria as his family’s sole provider but ends up actually moving in with another woman in the supposed ‘family home’, and the wife could not do anything miles away in the US. It’s a tragic story that involves domestic violence and abuse. Then there is ‘Americana’ that really got me thinking; My perfect life. A successful blogger who’s been residing in the US comes back to Lagos, her hometown, to find his first love already married with a family. Despite this, three weeks later the guy actually deserts his family in pursuit of ‘true happiness’ with her once true love. These are African stories by African authors, being used as actual learning material in literature classes that I always go back to. It’s okay nowadays to talk about the taboos, to divorce, to raise a family as a single mother. It is even way okay to embrace the taboos. In fact it gives one an air of superiority. Do the silliest most mundane act and you might end up a celebrity. It all comes down to the ‘5-seconds-of-fame’. No one wants to toil nor tolerate another. All this excitement and information is unnerving to say the least. It confuses the little morals we still have left in us. People get away with vices more easily and the worst part of it all is the erosion of people's conscience, if at all it still exists. The problem with such a fluid society might not be felt at the moment. Imagine the time we waste on social media, what will we have to show as our achievement when we’ll be thirty or forty? What will we tell our next generation about life other than internet stuff? We now forego real life experiences for virtual reality experiences, especially movies and such, and for now that’s totally okay. Wait till you are forty yet the only worthwhile thing you can do is convene a drinking spree with your buddies, talking about campus exes , and still busy adding guys on WhatsApp groups coz you’re always the Admin of something. Wait till you are fifty, menopause hitting you really hard, temperamental and emotional and growing old, living alone in a very lovely but lonely apartment. I wonder if it is a problem with the standards we are setting. Are they too low or too high for us? I recall there was a time I would look a guy in the eye without blinking, and a guy would stutter or just run scared never to look back, and the next time they would think twice before talking crap in front of me.  Were my standards set too high back then? Now, a guy has the audacity to talk bullshit to my face and I cannot do anything about it. I guess I’m just exhausted of acting myself and just trying to be friendly. I mean I’ve been told I could use a number of friends time and again. I cannot even look someone in the eye anymore for reasons I am yet to comprehend. Have I lowered my standards too low? It is easier to lie than telling the truth. It is easier to walk away than to take responsibility for our actions. Just like it is less of a hustle picking sex dates from Tinder than going through the tedious process of knowing each other first and dating. We want instant gratification and satisfaction.  When sh*t gets too thick, we flee. Men and women alike. We have zero patience, worryingly low intelligence levels and above all, almost no morals. This might be the paradox of living in this century. That, numerous and commendable strides have been taken and implemented to alleviate humanity. Global and national reports and indices have it all in black and white. Remarkable achievements. But most of us lead very basic and way too simplistic lives. Most of us suffer without even knowing. What ails our society? My mug is now definitely empty. I need a refill, till next time.