Posts Tagged ‘ women ’

Mechanics of Mathematics

 

Poor Anna an Austrian mummy

Heavy again with an Aryan baby

Not an Immaculate Conception

This seed; this ejaculated tare—

From the loins of the devil himself

Unlike cousin Mary found with child

— Assaulting her frail female form

In death-defying morning sickness

Wears her womb as an ill-fitting gown

Her belly struggling to bring to term

And free this sinister spirit within

Kicking in there like the sea sprite

In a bottle found by the fisherman

 

Poor Anna not Karenina of Tolstoy

Her spouse pushes for pro-choice

Conjures up a jagged Joseph of yore

Forced to marry a pregnant virgin

Her parish priest turns a left cheek

Her doctor is Jekyll and Hyde embodied

Playing hide and seek with morality

Squander sacred eyes—Oedipus eyes

So when her Gabriel makes visitation

Would see him as a blurred parousia

 

Onward Kristina Anna soldiers on

Marching as to her trimester wars

Bears a planted time bomb in her belly

That kept ticking quietly in eternity

Deaf to phony talks of right to life

Poor Anna not Jokasta of Thebes

Unto her manger Der Fuhrer is born

Named of course Adolf Schickelgraber

Later undersigned a surname Hitler

No wise men grace this king of terrors

Only plague; the first born of death

A motley offspring of kings is this infant

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2016
08/22
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CATEGORY
Poetry
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Intruders

The evening was clattering and clamouring with incessant noise, and if you cared, you could hear the frogs croaking after a downpour earlier on that afternoon. Water had flooded the swampy marsh, feeding the crocodiles with zest, and were in an unison ululation that seemed to echo the approaching twilight life in the suburbs overlooking terrains of the prison farm nearby. The sprawling middle-class estate, still drenched and wet from the rain, roared abuzz with workers as they dragged themselves back to their hovels, sprinkling the streets with sweat from their tired muscles and making the street groan under the shuffling of their weary limbs.

In one of the houses, Leon had been writing a story all afternoon in his bedroom-cum-study. He worked for the local newspaper, and according to his wife, was a little stingy- miserly -but still tolerably comfortable to live with. While he, in turn, considered his beautiful young wife a little spendthrift. This balanced their financial lives and over spilled into their romantic lives, for although he had never raised his voice at her, she still referred to him as a rough and overprotective.

But she couldn’t compare him to their next door neighbour: a DD-dedicated drinker- whose daily drinking made him abusive and irresponsible, beating his wife when he was sober and receiving the same treatment from her when he was drunk. And was notorious when –in his stupor- miss his door and knock on his neighbours’ senselessly like a public noisemaker, especially in the middle of the night—and on several occasions, knock the right door in a bit too loud a fashion enough to awaken the devil from his siesta.

‘Is that my rabbit burrowing out there?’ Leon had been very absorbed in the story that he hadn’t noticed Alison was already home from town where she liked spending her evenings.
‘Ahoy!’ She answered squeamishly in the sitting room.
‘Is that my pussycat purring?’
‘Miaaw.’
‘When did my pussy come home?’ he went on nonchalantly, not wishing her to intrude into his thoughts.
‘Just now. Come out honey and see what I’ve bought.’ She ignored his don’t-bother-me tone and went on unheedingly knowing too well that he would come out if she mentioned money and spending.
‘You must not disturb me…’ But he paused shortly and then went to the door, peeped into the sitting room, looked searchingly at the shopping basket sprawled in the sofa set, and with pen still held in his hand said; ‘bought, did you say? All that? Has my little squander bird been overspending again?’ he looked so surprised at his wife’s compulsive buying. Continue reading →

2010
02/28
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CATEGORY
short story
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Turning off men on heat

‘You have stood by and watched as social values deteriorate before your own eyes. You have cracked the jokes that reduce us to mere chattels. You have harboured illicit lust in your hearts that find its ugliest expression in the acts of a rapist. You must now place feminity and motherhood close to divinity again, as ‘We Were Once, Queens.’

A lobby group WGO—Women Girls Organization, pressure group, GI- Girls International and SHE – Sexual Health Education, mobilised ‘women’ to demonstrate in the streets against a number of pressing issues—sexual harassments, Pro-Abortion Bills, Affirmative Action Bill, among other women ‘issues’. Twigs and placards reading all manner of demands were waved along the Sufferiation Street that brought traffic and business to a stand still when curious onlookers stood by to watch these women.

They had a point to make but many onlookers questioned their honesty –and whether it was not one of those protests with a hidden agenda. A new style of lobbying had emerged recently where money power were used to influence crucial decision makers in a bid to support these pressure groups. And often hired—protestors marched—the loudness of their protesting voices reciprocal to the amount of cash dispensed.

Being on the streets once again—it was just a few weeks back when they had had another successful ‘Sexual Boycott’—it brought in the question of ethics governing these powerful lobby groups, which was overstepping their bounds in influencing bills pending in and outside the parliament. Affirmative Action Bill had already been passed but these ‘women’ felt that the government was slow in implementing it because men and boy-child still had an undue advantage over the women and the girl-child.

They nagged that women were still vulnerable to stigma, sexual abuse, rights violations such as inheritance of land, domestic violence and too, that ‘SHE’ was stigmatised and haunted in every path-pregnancies, incest and rapes which stalked her all the time.

In their keynote address before those gathered for the demonstration, the organisers had a very vocal message to speak out over these gender issues.
‘We need to do away with the double standards and discriminatory legislation that confine our freedom and personal rights. Until these thought processes are eliminated, we will never be truly liberated as a society.

‘When we highlight the positive, we not only salute the efforts of the woman achiever, but also inspire even more women to achieve similar, if not greater, success.

‘Our work never seems to end: through motherhood, we raise, nurture, comfort, and educate the leaders of tomorrow. This is not a nine-to-five job. We have no annual or any other kind of leave. It is a job for life. Incredibly, we still have time and energy to hold down the more ‘convectional’ job. We are innovative scientists looking for a cure for AIDS and cancer; We are politicians and leaders; We are the artists who brighten up and excite our lives with song and dance. We are the flesh and blood of family life and society. Without us, all we’d have is a bare skeleton.’

Speaker after speaker followed with the same song.

‘We have to appreciate ‘us’ in all our totality; strength, beauty, intelligence, creativity, innovation, and infinite patience in bringing life into this world and nurturing it. Let’s have once big party around the world and appreciate ‘us’.’

This was followed by the grand march along the streets, paralyzing traffic in the busy highways, chanting! Shouting! Daring! Exercising their basic rights and proud at that. There had been recent spate of stripping women in Eastlands, especially those putting on ‘indecent’ clothes. A group of young girls had tight trousers minus blouses – just the thin bra. Others had micro –miniskirts with slits reaching up their grey areas, exposing what turned the heads of the many men’s staring eyes.

The ones on trousers were chanting; ‘As African women, we can celebrate the fact that we will wear trousers forever. We need a progressive mindset. There were hardships upon our grandmothers and mothers who endured to raise us. This is a chance for everywoman everywhere to pledge their support our current and future generations.’

The Eastland ‘stripping incident’ was condemned in the strongest adjectives possible. ‘Hail Civilization! Hail Miniskirts! Hail Trousers!’ they shouted as they marched. A poem composed for the same was recited in the placards- that demanded to have perpetrators brought to book.

Next followed ‘BULLSHIT FGM – ILLEGALL OPERATION’ placards waving women and girls. From the loudspeaker, one little girl was showing for all and sundry to see; ‘Ganjaweed are FGM! Awyei wid dem Shashamane! Never talk or glance at a member of male species for five minutes!’

Other champion placards declared; ‘THE F****G?! CUT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH PROMISCUITY!’ This was followed by dozens of ‘PELVIC PURITY COMES FROM GOOD MORALS! NOT FEMALE CIRCUMCISION.’ Continue reading →

2010
02/21
POSTED BY
CATEGORY
excerpts
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The Pope and the Sikh.

About half a century ago, the pope decided that all the Sikhs leave Italy. NAturally there was a big uproar from the Sikh community.So the Pope made a deal. He would have a religious debate with a member of the sikh community. If the Sikh won, the Sikhs could stay. If the Pope won, the Sikhs would leave.

The Sikhs realised that they had no choice. So they picked a middle-aged man named Harbinder Singh to represent them. Harbinder asked for one additional condition to the debate. TO make it more interesting, neither side would be allowed to talk. The pope agreed.

The day of the great debate came. HArbinder Singh and the Pope sat for a full minute.

Then the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Harbinder looked back at him and raised one finger.

The Pope waved his fingers in a circle around his head. Harbinder pointed to the ground where he sat.

The Pope pulled out a wafer and a glass of wine. (Holy communion for Christians) Harbinder pulled out an apple.

The Pope stood up and said “I give up. This man is too good. The Sikhs can stay”.

An hour later, the cardinals were gathered around the Pope asking him what had happened. The Pope said, “First I held up three fingers to represent the holy trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me there was still one God common to both our religions. Then I waved my finger around me to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground and showing that God was also right here with us. Then I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us from our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of original sin. He had an answer for everything. What could I do?”

Meanwhile, the Sikh community had crowded around Harbinder Singh. “What happened” they asked. “Well” said Harbinder, “FIrst he said to me that the sikhs had three days to get out of here. I told him not one of us was leaving. The he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Sikhs. I let him know that we were staying right here”.

“Yes, and then?” asked the crowd.

“I don’t know” said Harbinder. “He took out his lunch and I took out mine”.

3 wishes

A Woman was out golfing one day when she hit the ball into the woods. She went into the woods to look for it and found a frog in a trap. The frog said to her, “If you release me from this trap, I will grant you three wishes.”

The woman freed the frog, and the frog said, “Thank you, but I failed to mention that there was a condition to your wishes. Whatever you wish for, your husband will get times ten!”

The woman said, “That’s okay.” For her first wish, she wanted to be the most beautiful woman in the world. The frog warned her, “You do realize that this wish will also make your husband the most handsome man in the world, an Adonis to whom women will flock.” The woman replied, “That’s okay, because I will be the most beautiful Woman and he will have eyes only for me.”

So, KAZAM-she’s the most beautiful Woman in the world!

For her second wish, she wanted to be the richest woman in the world. The frog said, “That will make your husband the richest man in the world. And he will be ten times richer than you.” The woman said, “That’s okay, because what’s mine is his and what’s his is mine.”

So, KAZAM-she’s the richest woman in the world!

The frog then inquired about her third wish, and she answered, “I’d like a mild heart attack.”

Moral of the story: Women are clever. Don’t mess with them.

Attention female readers : This is the end of the joke for you. Stop here and continue feeling good.

Male readers, continue reading….

…
…
…
…
…
…

The man had a heart attack ten times milder than his wife

Moral of the story: Women think they’re so smart. Let them continue to think that way and just enjoy the show.

PS: If you are a woman and are still reading this; it only goes to show that women never listen!

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2010
02/02
POSTED BY
CATEGORY
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Benefit of Doubts

 A play in 6 acts. My latest.

it’s laughable for Nana and her minions all to agree that no man has a right to resist their solicitations. I don’t share her fears nor her appeal to the jealousy of the men folk against ultimate sanction of morality. Besides men and women have perennially had difficulty getting on with one another, and this difficulty have been compounded by women’s movement. So that the only thing we can do to keep our sanity is to imagine playful solutions to this eternal problem.

A play dealing with temptation and importunities of women, opening the grosser side of a woman’s passion. A comedy of propriety woven with threads of studies of prudery. A tyranny of conventional propriety looking into the flaws of both the moral and judicial system in the so-called high society. A play of morality and integrity, carnal love and true love, honour and dignity.

Description.
Solicitations of Abbou, a young servant by a married woman, Nana her master’s wife. He’s tempted but all the more striking is his consciousness of the ultimate sanction of morality. He does not falter; he rejects her innuendoes and solicitations willy-nilly.

But she takes her revenge-doesn’t take his rejection lying down. The covetous wife turns the tables on him and makes a covert appeal to the jealousy of the men, servants against the hated Abbou, and to the fears of the society women, whom she represents as unsafe from insults. The women all agree that no man has a right to resist their solicitations. Beauty is spurned. Her distorted account of facts has the desired effect on her husband. And there is the threat of prison for Abbou, and the company of the vilest of men, instead of the caresses of beauty in high places.

But the Judge, her husband, can read through their solicitations, and have been busy all along with a similar strange death-row case, a perfect parallel to the false accusation by his Wife to his own servant. Where two brothers living together and the wife of the Elder Brother, accuses the Younger Brother falsely. The Elder seeks to murder the Younger. But being at last convinced of his innocence, he slays his Wife instead.

All these happens against a background of the domineering presence of Big Mama, the Judge’s mother, and who is not only in bad books with Nana, but also is soliciting lobbying, and helping a covetous lass, Minnie, to get married to her son.

Excerpts from the play Benefits of Doubts

 

A2S4—The Native Return

 

[Minnie spreads a dark duvet in her king-sized bed which lies strategically in the middle of a room that’s devoid of modern convenience. Draperies and Swahili kangas hang precariously on racks. Smoke from jasmine incense fills the room. An old African mat, faded carpet, etc are adorned by unpacked pastries, snacks, drinks, etc. Minnie’s beaming smile splashes in approval. Enter Big Brother]

 

  Big Brother: [Holding the drinks] Jameson? Amarula? What a sumptuous waste! Who are you indulging this time? [Teasing] One of your classy gigolos?

Minnie: No. I’m not Minnie-coddling anyone tonight. It’s just the justice…

Big Brother: [Anxiously] Say what?

Minnie: What now, are you deaf? I said Justice the just. I’ve prepared for him tilapia stew and marinated chicken tikka-mous-tikka. Feel free and invite yourself to celebrate and share in this auspicious occasion.

Big Brother: [Nonplussed] Excuse you? Who asked you to? Is this the latest overcooked Soap-Opera tactic to snatch the husband of Nana?

Minnie: Stop being ridiculous! You sound so surprised. Well, I don’t see anything about it that goes beyond the bounds of the ordinary.

Big Brother: Then remind me, what would a married man want in our house?

Minnie: [Nodding] Mmh! Indeed! Want or desire; you catch up real quick, bro. real quick. What if his wife can no longer satisfy this need; or want; or desire. But stop judging me now! Tonight I host the Judge. Next, it is the minister himself! [Gyrating her waist] And you say-say Minnie-Minnie Mo has small means! Is it shocking?

Big Brother: [Correcting] Not shocking or even impossible a feat for someone with a bottom like two stale buns! But I’m warning you sister and your itchy groin; to think harder than shaking it to make Nana share her husband…

Minnie: [Teasing] Are you serious right now…

Big Brother: [Firmly] Listen to me you silly goose…

Minnie: Why should I listen?

Big Brother: This is no time for more childish gibberish.

Minnie: Seriously? Only when you want me to listen, it’s THAT serious…

Big Brother: [Sternly] I’m very, very serious, sister-girl. Who says he can just come here and amuse himself? Don’t you realise this is only trouble if you are just his side dish of marinated ‘tikka-mous-tika ?’ Besides, this scheming escapade can only compromise our court case and cause a scandal.

Minnie: I know that, but you too should appreciate the countless times I’ve argued, holding deep debates within my mind but losing all arguments. I’ve told my heart; but it won’t listen—not one bit! What can a damsel in distress do when blissful fortune fastens as a magnet his muscular spirit to her heart? Such a resolve is only a pawn for hopes and a means to her desire…

Big Brother: [Adamantly] You must stop these solicitations. Honour demands it. How shall I to save my face, as his close friend, if he Minnie-coddled and then booted you? This shall be a gross transgression…

Minnie: Objection overruled, my lord! Talking of honour, what’s more nobly honourable than a judge embodying an ideal union? For once in my bosom lies the only man worthy of my virginity, honourably guarded for the white bed sheet on our nuptial night, [longingly] for the ululations of the old maids exulting the honourable stain the morning after…

Big Brother: Virgin? [Laughing] You? Then why do you broadcast yourself on the market as ‘single-and-ready-to-mingle’?

Minnie: My marital status is just a scheme to sample my suitors and test how suitable my caprice is in my amorous adventures. I may only be a little boat looking for a harbour but until today, I have sailed cruising past the assailing sea of desire. And now, as a respite, after anchoring in the apogee of my journey, providing proof of my honour, no one, not even Big Brother can delay my romantic voyager any longer.

Big Brother: Unbelievable! Will you keep too your local gigolos as playthings?

Minnie: I’ve summoned them too, to share in my banquet—all the homeboys—already the maids are in the kitchen.

Big Brother: No doubt to deliver a press statement to your gigolo billy-goats sniffing round you.

Minnie: You and your foul mouth! Is this about your Kiki that I turned down?

Big Brother: I’m just saying little sister. If you indulge the judge and instead of elevating you into a pedestal, degrades you as his footstool, our family will be an object of disgrace, and you will put me in a very awkward situation!

 Minnie: I am a woman gifted in untying knotty love chords of any man, seducing him long enough to share in my dream. So stop patronising me with lectures about virtue and respect. [Snapping] Why should I even worry about your honour or your cherished friendship when love spread ahead of me in endless dreams of ecstasy? I’m shrewd; I’ll lay all my cards, not just my little cleavage! The sages say ‘blessed is the hand that gives’ but today I declare, hallowed be the hand that gives a lot… [Noise from without, ululation] and there comes my prince. [To Big Brother] Don’t just stand! Can you usher him. [Bustle outside, offstage voices] Welcome our son! Our loving son!

Big Brother: Why would I welcome him when you no longer listen to me?

Minne: [Desperately] Don’t stand here! I don’t want him to know we are arguing about him. Get out! Get busy, pleee-ase! [Both laugh knowingly as he exits].

Old Woman: [The compound stirs] Welcome my son. They are excited because they have never seen such a big car!

Minnie: That’s what I’m talking about.

Old Man: Park the car near the umbrella tree!

Big Brother: Let me park it for you, my brother!

Old Man: You are most welcome, my son.

Young Man: There you are! A new shining banknote for me!

Judge: And for you, mama, an island Kitenge, my wife wears a similar fabric.

Old Woman: Ooh! Thank you, my son. I will always pray for you to have everything you desire. [With emphasis] Everything, my son!

Judge: And this papa, is all for you. Rolex watch, see? Exactly like mine, we are now a family. [With emphasis] One big family!

Young Girl: Ooh my! All these wads and bundles! What a full-size briefcase!

 Old Man: Hallowed be the hand that gives a lot! [Laughing] You always gave a listening ear to the needs of your mama! Mother is supreme. [Laughter and general mirth as the judge comes into the room]

Judge: Oh my dear [Hugging Minnie] Look at you? Like the queen of Sheba!

Minnie: Is why a gracious reception to welcome my kingly Solomon.

Judge: The spiralling incense is already making me feel at home [Sitting on the bed, trying it] and my throne is floating with the whirling uud!

Old Woman: [Aside] Did you see that? Sinking into her bed with no invitation?

Old Man: [Aside] Audacious gesture! Signal his meaning better than words…

Old Woman: [Aside] Spelling his intention… Continue reading →

2010
01/20
POSTED BY
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