This…This is pure gold.
Everyone needs to read it.

Mark Maish


I’m seated on a wooden bench under a makuti shed located at a vantage point deep in the heart of a national reserve watching a herd of elephants grazing peaceful below, oblivious of the chaotic world out there. A fortnight ago I handed in my final year project which marked the end of a 5-year pursuit for my Undergrads. Faced with the biggest dilemma of my life, I traveled down to this remote camping site in south coast to strategize on my next step. The decision I’m about to make is to either take the job offered or turn it down and instead follow my passion which is unconventional.

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Why I have a problem with ‘Bye, Fuckboy’

I recently read an article on that basically shattered any conceptions I had previously harbored about respect and dignity. The author informs the reader, in the funniest and bluntest way possible, that the world doesn’t give a hoot about respecting them if they aren’t bringing something to the table. This is the reason we see a stark change in the way our parents, relatives and society treats us as we grow older; as kids, we could do the most outrageous things, but the world would continue to invest in us; when we became teens, the world began to frown on our delinquency, but kept on supporting us; and when we crossed the 18 threshold, the world heaved a sigh of relief and began to give us a piece of its mind. I think we can all agree that as an everyday adult mwananchi, we go through  A LOT. Rudeness, long cues, insecurity, accountability for our actions and the painful realization that we just aren’t as important as we thought we were. I worked at a bank as a teller last year and I was 18- trust me ,I know what I’m talking about. This sudden stripping of sense of entitlement is, I think, crucial to the transition from childhood to adulthood.

Ugh, Norah, cut to the chase already!” Calm thyself, young grasshopper, I’m getting there.

So: fuckboys.

I read the article last night, and my fingers have been hovering over the keyboard since then, itching to reply to it. I did a comment reply, but I didn’t feel the space was adequate to air my  sentiments on the matter. I was a mix of strange things when I read it- amused, mildly shocked at the obscene amount of foul language splattered all over it. I could tell, however, the writer knows how to write.  But the content-that’s the question.

By blog definition, “What is a fuckboy? An aint shit nigga”

The author goes on to explicitly state why these ‘fuckboys’ are loathed by the general human population- they are slow, lazy, selfish with their money, tacky, pretentious and have no grasp on female issues. She used a term that gave me a bit of nostalgia- a scrub, the term made popular by the female trio TLC back in the 90s to describe what I suppose today is more crudely known as ‘fuckboy’.

Now, slow, lazy, selfish, tacky and pretentious boys exist. But I have a problem with labels, because at many points  in your own life, you have exhibited the same traits. It’s a classic case of judging others when we ourselves would not want to be judged. And do these boys deserve to all be bundled up into a single stereotypical moniker? What if they are also doing other things with their lives? What if it’s just a stupid phrase they are going through, and someday in the future when they have made something out of their lives, they will look back and be mortified by their past behavior? Because nothing is black and white. Even the most seemingly crude individuals have a story, and have some sort of potential for greatness- whether it will be tapped into or not, is the question.

And I have a huge problem with the real life examples given to show the character traits of a fuckboy.

A fuckboy is the type of nigga that will call you up and tell you he wants to go out with you. So you’ll dress up in your sexy LBD,  six inch heels  and get your makeup on fleek, only for him to show up in a car full of his ‘SQUAAAAAAD’ cranking Cheif Keef

A fuckboy will ask you out for lunch but will tell you ‘we’re splitting the bill’ when it’s time to pay up. What happened to chivalry?

 On the contrary, if she is in the position to pay , she should do it once in a while. 

 I have every right to want to surround myself with people that have a positive impact on me

Now, there is no problem with wanting respect from those you associate with. But thing is, the world doesn’t work that way. We live in a society that doesn’t care about us simply because we are us, but it cares about what it can get from us. There’s a reason why surgeons get more respect than school dropouts- they serve a greater need in the society.

The article expresses these sentiments purely from a woman’s perspective, and comes off as selfish as such. Is Chivalry about footing bills? I think not. I’ve gone out with the absolutely loveliest of gentlemen, strong ambitious fellas who know where they are going in life, and we split the bill. Sometimes he just can’t afford to pay your expenses, it isn’t a sign of rudeness. And I have gone out with the worst of the bunch, and they practically begged to foot the bill. As a liberal, I believe that no one is obligated to buy me food just because they offered to spend time with me. After all, we should both be intellectually benefiting from the encounter. I don’t know about you, but I don’t go on coffee dates at Java just to eat Java food- if I wanted to do that, I’d save up some money and masturdate (the act of taking yourself out to restaurants).  I go with someone to enjoy their company.

As for clubbing…well,I don’t have much expertise in this area, but I’d say express your thoughts! Don’t expect the lad to read your mind and know your tastes and dislikes- sometimes, dudes are just not capable of that, you know J If you don’t want his crew tagging along, then tell him that. If you want to go to a classy club, then TELL HIM THAT, and be prepared to foot part of the bill, depending on just how classy we are talking about. Don’t silently seethe all through the night, and then argue about it later-communicate to prevent a breakdown in communication.

And yes, it is true that we have every right to surround ourselves with people who have a positive impact on my life. But the thing is, this swings the other way around too. Other people have the right to surround themselves with people who have a positive impact in their lives. So instead of complaining, how about we strive to make ourselves people worthy of consideration, respect and association with successful individuals? Far too many people believe they are entitled to all the good stuff, just because they are them, forgetting that the world is a cruel and unfair place. You have to fight to get what you think you deserve, not wait on it impatiently. Ask yourself, are your character and achievements worthy of higher consideration? Are you someone that people would say has a positive impact in their lives? Because if not, you need to look inside first before you think about others.

Oh, and on the question of feminism.

A fuckboy will always have some unintelligent takes when it comes to topics that involve women , such as rape and feminism.

We keep saying that word, feminism, but I don’t think we really know what it means. A feminist isn’t just someone who can initiate a pseudo-intellectual debate on female rights and issues, and get all fiery and passionate about it- a feminist is someone who is actively involved in turning things around and ensuring equal rights for women and men. Instead of expecting that these boys know everything about feminism and be gung-ho about women’s rights, and if they are not, retreating to a corner to continue the quasi intellectual debate and condescending quips about the ignorant male species, why don’t we educate them? Perceptions can be changed, trust me. And then be the kind of person who would be a role model to girls and women around the world. There’s a reason why Wangari Maathai, and not Huddah the Boss Chick, is a role model and the face of Kenyan feminism. Huddah can declare and plead for equal rights however much she wants, but let’s face it- unless she cleans up her act, those words will remain shallow and void.

And this is, by no means, meant as an attack on the article or the author. It is simply an expanded version of my 2 cents. And tough truths that I think we all need to hear.

The Festering Wound

But why do you still?

Why do you keep at it?

Stabbing the wound; festering the wound,

Keeping it from drying?

“Because…I don’t know,

Because I don’t understand how I work;

Because my logic says one thing,

And my hands do another.”

It makes no sense; realize that!

Why do you pick at the scab?

Why won’t you keep the bandage on?

Why won’t you let it heal?

“Because if it heals;

If it heals…I will forget about it;

And I don’t want to let it go;

I never want to let it go.”

Your mind works in strange ways!

You want to keep something that causes you discomfort?

Something that sparks so much pain

So much pain

That you wish you are dead?

“The flesh, as it peels off…it hurts.

It always will…I hate the feeling.

I wish I had no wound to begin with;

But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t also have the memories,

That came along with it,

Or rather, preceded it, before the accident,

The accident that changed everything.”

You pick at your wounds.

Understand that! You pick at your wounds!

It isn’t healthy.

“I know I do.

I don’t want to.

But I do. It feels bad;

No, it feels terrible, painful, excruciating;

But it makes me feel good, too.

It makes me remember,

It makes me remember when I was loved.”