Danfo Chronicles (Episode 1): "You Must be a Feminist"

 Photo credit: Sassy Funke

I was on my own, minding my business in my distinguished corner of the danfo, munching plantain chips and dreaming of the day when I'll be gifted a hovercraft in addition to my Nobel Prize for Literature; when the woman sitting beside me tapped me:

"Sister! You no go talk?"

My startled reply was "about what?"

Apparently, while I was shaking Wole Soyinka's hand, my co-passengers were shaking a very familiar table. The table of feminism. From what I gathered, the argument started when a middle aged man called in on a radio program, and expressed his dismay at his wife's lack of understanding, that just because he had a concubine does not mean he didn't love her. 

Every other passenger, except myself, the woman beside me and a school girl, were men. They agreed with the caller. They were shouting the motion that if a married man falls in love with another woman, it doesn't take away anything from the love he has for his wife. Of course, the lady beside me--Linda--was beside herself with rage and kept trying to out-shout them. I felt sorry for her, because it seemed her pain was from experience.

When I finally decided to speak, I talked about the exclusivity of love; that love is giving yourself entirely to one person in full communion. 

"Sister forget all this English wey you dey blow. I no wetin I dey talk. Me, I get two for house, and we dey live wella, no problem dey."

My philosophical speech wasn't helping. These were die hard patriarchists not ancient Greeks. Then I asked one simple question:

"But Oga, if your wife marry another husband, shey no problem?""

"Ah-ahn, she no go fit, no be the same thing"

A riot of opinions erupted. Even the driver was involved. The only person who didn't speak was the school girl.

The debate went on for quite a while. I was getting tired. We were all about to agree to disagree until the man with two wives made a statement that drove me mad.

"Na feminism dey worry them"

My anger was hellish. I felt like replying "and na lust dey worry you." but I didn't. All I said was: must I be a feminist to have common sense? My target recipient wasn't him but the school girl.

I took out my earpiece from my bag. Put them in my ears and played 'Two Black Cardillacs' by Carrie Underwood, in honour of women who have be maltreated by the idiotic high-handedness of ignorant men.

Tell me what you think below. French and Igbo versions coming soon.

Iyare Esohe Ewaenosa

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