Hey! Emm here, your guide to the world of the African feminist in the 21st Century! Today, I’m going to rustle a lot of raw nerves and probably lose three of my two followers but hey! I want to do this. I have to do this. Before I get to this, let me just put this disclaimer out there; these views are mine, if you don’t like them that’s OK but also I don’t care. Without further ado, I present an African feminist’s letter to her future husband.
Dear Future Husband and Partner;
First, thank you for coming into my life. I already know I love you because I chose you to walk in this unbelievable institution with me. Marriage is not an issue I have bought into so you must be really something special. Soak all that in for a minute, from this point I will venture into a deep bitter and maybe hurtful rant, but remember I love you. I choose to write you this letter now, years probably decades before we ever meet because you need to know how exactly I feel about some of these issues and as a woman I will not trust myself not to silenced by raging emotions when the time comes. Simply, I’m saying that I want you to know this without me having to tell you.
Feminism is forever.
The first thing you need to know is that I am unequivocally and unapologetically a feminist and unless the world is upside down and men are giving birth and breastfeeding babies now, I am still and will always be a feminist. Not to say that I do not believe an age will come when the world treats equally despite our gender, I just feel like the very laws of nature are likely to turn 360 degrees before men allow that. (See that bitterness I was talking about). And in being a feminist, I would like equal parts in this union; the good, the bad and possibly the angry children who already hate how loud their mum is. This is the 21s Century; I don’t need a protector and I’m not in the mood to be your protector either. I don’t need a provider, and neither do I need providing for. I am not Bonnie Tyler, I am not holding out for a hero till the morning light. In addition to this, I will not be your hero either. I am a firm believer in self-sufficiency. I am a (hopefully still) young able woman and if somehow I choose to loan part of my life to you, it wouldn’t be because I need you but simply because I have discerned that you are the best human being to spend most of my time with. Yes! Marriage to me is basically just the privilege of my time and partnership. You do not own me or my body. I remain an independent entity. Good news though; you also don’t owe me jerk shit. You don’t want to? Don’t! I’ll do it myself. Also, Sorry but I don’t want your last name; mine has been serving me just fine but hyphenated surnames are still on the table.
Predefined gender assigned roles are not a thing
Now, I’m not surprised you can’t prepare a meal to save your life. I don’t blame you either; but, hey! You need food to live, yes? You don’t exactly hunt game or gather wild fruit, do you? You also won’t be building our matrimonial home with just your hands and readily available material, will you? Good! So do we agree that the gender assigned roles you were taught by society are basically just part of an outdated lesson? Do we agree that cooking and cleaning duties are not a woman’s job; rather the job of the human being who wants to live decently?
Now, I know you’re a little disappointed. You were brought up thinking that some young girl somewhere is training to serve you for a lifetime, I get it. But as that young girl, let me just tell you that I did not take to heart anything that was preceded by or succeeded by “For your future husband”. So, No! When I was taught to make chapatis I didn’t take an interest or learn anything at all. And when I failed at preparing ugali once, I never tried to make it again. And I can’t peel a pineapple to a state safe for human consumption. I’m not perfect, OK! But neither are you! Because if you’re so interested in eating these meals with extremely complicated recipes, why have you never taken an interest in learning how to make them? I’m not saying I can’t cook! I can. I’m saying, I like to eat samosas so I learnt how to make them. I wasn’t keen on chapatis, so you know what? I didn’t bother to learn. If that makes me a bad future wife, guess it makes you a horrible human being; having a meal you like but cannot prepare. That being said, you better get to learning how to cook and clean because the only task I consider my job is my actual salaried job; the rest is fair game.
Not all men cheat; just you
Brace yourselves for some tough love, buddy. This section’s got a lot of it. I know society gave you this ‘All men cheat’ card and maybe you’re thinking you’ll use it with me a few times. Those three words can send me into a Gender Inequality rant you wouldn’t believe so let me just burst your bubble right quick. I don’t think self-control is determined by gender. It is crazy for you to assume I will control myself when you refuse to. You can’t expect respect that you don’t reciprocate. The fact that you are a man does not absolve you of your crimes; bringing it up will just make me angrier. Also, Infidelity is never really forgiven and forgotten. In the event that you make a promise to remain faithful, it really doesn’t matter what state you were in during the crime, who was there, what they said or did and it definitely matters less what is between your legs. The only thing called into question by your infidelity is your integrity and your character. Only men with a deficit in character cheat. (Sorry, not sorry) The deficit could be in self-control, humility, communication or whatever god damn excuse you gave yourself right before you decided to cheat.
They talk of women who take that cheating man back into the marriage for the children. I don’t know how that has worked out for them and frankly I don’t care; because it would not, could not ever work for me. When the trust has been broken then by all means the other ties between us must be severed. That being said, let me detail the unspoken rule; cheaters get left. Say it with me: CHEATERS GET LEFT; even at the altar.
Spending habits Vs Spending Power
You know, I keep hearing that women are all gold diggers. Now, I don’t refute that some women are more attracted to the weight of one’s wallet more than anything else, but I am not that woman. De-stereotype me, at once! But Money is and probably always will be a discerning factor; let me explain. A man is more than his wallet but he is indeed a direct reflection of how he chooses to spend what is in this wallet. As much as it is ok be broke, why are you broke though? Have you landed on hard times? OK, that happens and it passes. Or do you spend all your income on partying with friends you never see in the daylight? Or is it that you’re the ‘Get Rich Quick’ guy who will spend everything down to the last dime on some pipe dream only for it to fail miserably (as I probably would have told you)? Or are you just bad with money? I find it hilarious that in this generation of men, some cannot even clean their own boxers in the name of ‘It’s a woman’s job’ but have no shame living off their wives under the pretext of borrowing; even though we know that he is not a Lannister and he never repays his debts least of all those borrowed from his ‘rib’.
In light of recent times my future husband, I only ask that you be self-sufficient yet frugal with joint affairs. I am not asking for any of your money. I’ve been going on fine without it. However, in this day and age, I will not willingly support your laziness and spoilt boy routine. I’m sorry to say: I. AM. NOT. YOUR. MOTHER. (Actually I am really not sorry to say this) Your spending power doesn’t matter to me but your spending habits do.
Children, Pets and Other Living Things
I generally like children and pets but that doesn’t mean I want to possess any of my own. Now settle down, let me answer the normal questions that succeed this statement. Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I have been since birth. No, my uterus and ovaries work just fine. And yes, I am a woman who doesn’t want children. Before you throw that biological clock, maternal instinct garbage at me, realise that it is well within a woman’s right to change her mind whenever, wherever and as often as she likes. I resent that a woman’s choice not to reproduce is met with such prejudice and judgement yet men live their whole lives with no children and it’s never considered a ground-breaking finding. While for women we consider it a sort of disability; as if women were made to breed and without it they are unfulfilled. I’m not shading the mothers and future mothers out there, but it is not necessarily programmed into the female brain that our end goal is the production of children. Some of us just don’t want them. It’s not mean or arrogant or in the least bit selfish. It’s simply a choice like getting a tattoo. “Do I want this thing for the rest of my life?” Some women like children, I like tattoos. Deal with it. I will not be bearing and caring for children for you. I may change my mind but that won’t be for you either. Also you can’t have pets or other living things that aren’t us around us, PERIOD. I will not change my mind on that but I have the right to.
My dress, my choice
I know that while growing up you have been led to believe that your wife’s attire concerns you; that you have some kind of final say. You have obviously been deceived. If it isn’t already obvious, I’ve been wearing clothes a long time, almost all my life. And I only just met you. Therefore, your opinion on what I wear is welcome but it is but a mere suggestion. I will not change the way I dress for you. If you didn’t like it on the first place, then we should have never made it to the altar. This is not ‘Build-A-Wife’. What you see is what you get, you don’t approve, maybe you should move…. On!
Finally, my dear, my darling, my love, the one who stayed, I want you to know that I don’t write this because I believe you are the kind of man to get any of these points wrong. I only write this letter this way because the men I have met would need this elaborate guideline. Because the idea of a wife with an opinion is new to most of these men out here. I know you are first off, a feminist. Maybe one more adamant than I am. That even though you were raised in a patriarchal society, you do not see women as your subordinates but as your equals. I know that you can probably throw down a meal so good, we would have to make you our household’s head chef. I know that you understand your spending power and that defines your spending habits. I know you are a man so great that my greatness would never intimidate you. I know you love me, care for me and are ready to spend the rest of your days with me. To me, that is all that matters
With love and incredible foresight,
Your future wife,