By Shem Mukalo
In a world where girls lie out-rightly to us, men, as if we are their children, delete our numbers from their phone-books and ask who we are when we send them messages,squeeze our money to the point of bankruptcy,give us so much stress that we drink ourselves stupid until we pee on ourselves uttering some obscene terms in the process,Sergeant Linda Okello remains my dream girl.
She is a woman of many streaks;a career policewoman,a fashionista in her own right,socialite,a mother and a celebrity who hit international headlines overnight,no mean feat.
She is,I must confess a genius,with dogged determination. How else can you describe a ravishing beauty who single-handedly attempted to bring down the wall of senseless conservatism that had become typical of our security establishment. And that she did,albeit with limited success,by throwing those ugly trousers that policewomen are forced to wear,and in their place,donned a lewdly revealing mini that made male road-users along Kiambu Road stupid.
Some malicious journalist took a picture of her while on duty and donned in her funky mini,a move that threatened and nearly brought to an end her career that was gaining momentum in the disciplined forces.Fortunately,this reprehensibly malicious and irresponsible journalism only earned her both national and global fame.
The conservative elements within the force who summoned her for disciplinary action were cowed back by the powerful social media campaigns that were mounted to shield her from arbitrary dismissal from the force.
I don’t know whether she sustained her socialite disposition while on duty after the controversy .What I know is that she remains my heroine.
In fact I wanna propose to her.
You see,she is my idea of an ideal woman;one who will fill the emptiness in my heart,cool down the fire consuming my spirit,slow down the rush of adrenaline within my blood and bring to an end the tormenting loneliness that has become the quintessence and trademark of my pathetic existence.
Winning true love in the contemporary world has become a tricky affair for many blokes leaving them devastated and even contemplating suicide.The road to the ultimate happiness engendered by striking an emotional jackpot when one finds their better half is replete with numerous pitfalls.
An emotional investment, that will culminate in matrimony and subsequent bliss,ranks highly,if not highest, in the priorities compendium of a majority of men,their social standing,prestige or pedigree notwithstanding.
We (men) are all the same when it comes to the matters of the heart;the only variation is the level of stupidity that investments of that nature engender within us.And the ladies,fiendishly perceptive and scheming as they are ,have taken note of this hopelessly irreversible fact of masculine existence.
Our female counterparts are busy and provocatively flaunting those luscious parts of their anatomy left,right and center with mounting hubris.This dangerous exhibitionism,considered by the church-goers who subscribe to the tenets of Victorian prudery to be satanic,is engineered,even though members of the fairer sex would deny it even at gunpoint,towards engaging those dangerous passions of their male counterparts who buckle under the pressure of such antics.
It is not easy to be a man in the context of today’s staggering realities. Ask Audrey Mbugua who in her adulthood realized the desperation and hopelessness of being a man.The transgender became a darling of the mainstream and bloggers after she made public her/his desire to become a woman.She took the war to the national examination council demanding to have the name on her Secondary final examination certificate changed from Andrew Mbugua to Audrey Mbugua but the council would hear none of that crap.
Her/his recourse to litigation hit a snag after the adjudicatory court failed to issue her a favourable verdict condemning her to an effeminate existence devoid of official recognition.
The unfavorable verdict hit her/him badly and you could see the devastation on her face as she/he engaged a slew of journalists on the matter.
”I will keep on fighting to the death until government recognition flows like the waters of River Nile,” she said amid teary stutters.
Wow! The imagery of River Nile was so perfect and a wide green played on my lips as I listened to the young man-turned-woman who almost caused her conservative dad a heart attack and confounded many with her/his effeminate disposition.
You see the young man was weary of the tedium of manhood.In fact,according to some reliable and unimpeachable sources he/she sought the expert counsel of several surgeons on the viability and practicality of having his manhood changed to female genitalia.Whether that crucial surgery took place in the process of her metamorphosis from a man to a woman,only she knows. Balderdash!
Such disappointment and bitterness, tormenting Audrey Mbugua,is what consumes my spirit.That is precisely why I wanna share the rest of my life with sister Linda.
Away from the gimmickry and heart-breaking rides that some stupid girls engage us in.
Your assessment that am a bitter bloke reeling from the aftermath of severe heartbreak is on point. I am indeed a bitter man;bitter for being heartbroken and my soul ripped apart by some female species whose membership in the human family must have been by coincidence rather than by divine design.This breed of that dangerous species doesn’t deserve to be addressed as ‘Ladies’.
You see,the term lady has a component of decency,which this reprehensible breed are so lacking.
My diction will surely attract vicious censure from gender equality propagandists and affirmative action pundits who conceive of the world from a very narrow perspective.
”It was well past midnight and my eyes were glued to my newly acquired computer monitor as I sipped from my steamy cup of coffee,penning down some serious stuff on my facebook page on the unfolding situation in Egypt immediately after the military ousting of Mohammed Morsi from the presidency.
My ears were covered by huge headphones,nodding my head to some dance hall vybes emanating from my smartphone. Dance hall is indeed a controversial genre of music. Only insane people like me with files in Mathari listen to it. My lecturer once referred to me as a thug who would amount to nothingness for listening to such pathetic music.I suppressed laughter when some ladies told him that they listened to church music yet I knew deep inside me that they were serious dancehall lovers,in fact connoisseurs,and who were frequent patrons of the pathetic university drinking joints that reek of raw sweat ,urine and human defecate,shaking their fleshy rears seriously on the pelvic areas of their male counterparts.
I suddenly got a message from a cutie who I had acquired on facebook.The message read;”Kindly send me 2k,am in serious trouble.As for our scheduled date let’s meet tomorrow.Sweet dreams.”
A sudden gush of rushing blood bulged my balls.Without engaging my mind,I wired the requested amount via M-pesa,a service that women use to fleece us of our hard-earned cash.We had never met and tomorrow would be the day. Not sending the cash would have jeopardized our scheduled rendezvous.The following morning,I sent her a text telling her that I was on my way to town where we were supposed to meet.She responded,”K.Love you,mwaaaaah.
In town,I called her with the intention of informing her of my arrival.My goodness!Her phone was off. I was patient until I ran out of patience and decide to go back to my abode crest-fallen.The gush of blood that powered my bulging balls subsided.”
That is why I wanna marry sister Linda….
Shem Mukalo is Guest blogger on Kenya Today