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Marriage today is not what it used to be. Let me
rephrase that: marriage is not what I thought it was. It is not what I
think it should be. And no, I am not yet married.
Marriage is supposed to be a bond between a man and a
woman, held by love. When you are getting married, you are supposed to be
getting married to your best friend, your soul mate, your other half. For
men, you are supposed to be getting married to the woman who has your rib in
her, the woman who has your missing rib. And for women, you are supposed
to be getting married to the man whose rib you have in you. When
‘marriage’ comes to mind, people often think of love, romance, happiness,
eternal bliss, love, love, love.
For too many, however, marriage does not quite live up to
its expectation(s). Obviously, before you get married, you ought to keep
in mind that problems will come up. There will be trials and
tribulations. You ought to keep in mind that there will be difficult
times. Philosophers will always advise you to expect the
unexpected. Married people expect problems, but ironically, they never
expect the problems they actually get.
A man gets married to what he considers a beautiful
woman. He expects that she will undergo physical changes,
especially after having his children. Her stomach might get a little
rounder; her thighs might get a little chunkier; her feet might get
bigger. Hmm, it will only be a matter of time before gravity descends on
her breasts. So he expects all of this, but he does not foresee one of
her butt cheeks to equal the size of their jumbo pillow. He does not
foresee her stomach to be bigger than his beer gut. And while, he
expected her feet to grow a little bigger, he did not ever think they would
grow big enough to fit his shoes. And her breasts? Let’s just say
it can go for miles. The thing seems to be longer every time he sees it.
They used to have a great sex life, but now she is too
busy catering for the children to satisfy his needs. By the time she
comes to bed, she smells of maggi cubes and curry. Her hair consistently
remains undone. He is not quite sure if she is taking out the weave on
her head or fixing a new one. The whole thing is a mess. Her nails
are as sharp as a razor blade. He has the evidence to prove this on their
bed sheets which are constantly sliced by her toe nails. And when was the
last time she shaved? She has taken the word, ‘natural’ to a whole new
level. Whoever told her he wants to be in bed with a grizzly bear?
Once upon a time, she used to wear neck-breaking lingerie
to bed, but now, he is constantly being assaulted with the hospital gowns she
calls night gowns. If only she will take a minute and reinvest in
deodorants. She does not stink, but he will prefer a less natural smell.
This woman who once used to be very discrete no longer feels the need to close
the bathroom door while she is doing number two. She no longer deems it
necessary to excuse herself before farting. Why excuse herself when her
husband will love to inhale the fresh, unadulterated stench that escapes from
her butt hole?
But these are all minor problems compared to the real,
serious problems. Ever since she got a better job, she has become rude
and disobedient. She cooks food that only she will enjoy. She has
become a little too willing to order food. Wait a minute; is that Papa
John’s Pizza on speed dial? She has become very quick to talk back and
even tell him that he is not her God. Apparently, she can make it on her
own. It amazes him that in spite of the increase in her salary, she does
not make as much as he does, yet her insults continue to increase. He
shudders to think of what will happen if she ever makes as much as he
does. God forbid that she ever makes more. If she does, he will
turn his manhood in without disputing it because he knows it will be the end of
his manliness anyway.
One of the things he cannot get past is the fact that she
will not stop sending so much money to her mother. He understands that
her father left them with almost nothing, and he understands that her mother
suffered so much for her, but she is a married woman now. She does not
understand that she is now a part of him, and what she does affects him.
For God’s sake, his mother is still well and alive, and he would love to send her
money more often, but he knows he has a wife and children to cater for.
These are just some of his complaints. The Mrs. probably has a different
side to the story.
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She thought she was getting married to her best friend and
confidant, but there is nothing confidential about their affairs. She
does not really speak to Nneka, Peter’s wife, but somehow, Nneka knows about
her inability to cook egwusi soup well. Nneka knows that every time she
cooks egwusi soup, the water and the oil become very bitter enemies in the pot:
they simply refuse to be joined together. The other day, Nneka offered to
teach her how to cook egwusi soup. What insolence! Who told Nneka about
this? Oh yeah, her husband is a good friend to Nneka’s husband.
Before they got married, he promised to stop drinking and
smoking. He is yet to quit either. He smokes like a chimney and
drinks like a fish. One day, he will drink himself to stupor and smoke
himself to ashes. He comes to bed smelling like an ash tray dumped in a
cheap bar and expects her to wear lingerie to bed? He has to be high on
something.
She sees the way he looks at her. She knows he does
not like the way she looks. He looks at her like she disgusts him.
He looks at her like he would much rather be looking at something else, or someone
else. Perhaps, someone slimmer, someone prettier, someone lighter.
She knows he does not like what he sees in her. Why on earth will she
wear skimpy lingerie to bed when her husband cannot even stand the sight of
her? Why will she expose her ‘lumps’? No oh.
These days, she has no interest in sex anymore.
Well, she still has interest, but she refuses to subject herself to such
degradation. She would rather utilize Mr. Denzel, her three-hundred
dollar vibrator. He is worth every penny she spent on him. Too bad
he is not tax deductable. He probably thinks of someone else while he is
inside her anyway. He probably closes his eyes while he is on top of
her. He probably cannot wait to burst a nut, so he can get out of
her. He probably only does it because he needs to – not because he wants
to. Why will she want to have sex with such a man?
She believes he is very selfish. Why else will he
expect her to work several hours a day, come home and take care of the kids,
help them to do their assignment, prepare dinner, and then be in the mood to
satisfy his needs in bed? When she is in the mood, she is too tired; when
she is not tired, she is not in the mood. And when she is in the mood and
not tired, she would rather be with Mr. Denzel. At least, she is
guaranteed to have his time for more than five minutes – unlike some other
people she knows.
She does not know why he keeps complaining about the money
she sends home to her mother. Has she ever stopped him from sending money
to his own mother? Does he know what her mother went through when her
father left them for another woman? There is nothing he will say that
will make her stop sending money to her mother. She works hard for her
money, and she has every right to spend it how she wants to. Besides, she
has always dreamt of the day she will finally be able to show her mother some
appreciation for all she went through when her father left them high and
dry. And now this man thinks she will stop spoiling her mother because some
husband said she should? Please!
She does not know why he is always complaining about the
money she makes. It is not like she makes more than him anyway. He just
cannot handle the fact that she now makes so much money. He cannot seem
to comprehend that she is no longer the young, naïve little girl whose bride
price he paid several years ago. He cannot accept that she no longer
needs to run to him for every little thing. Gone are the days when she
used to beg for money for bras, panties, and sanitary pad. He needs to
get over himself already. She is no longer a girl; she is now a woman.
I am quite certain that at the point a couple says, ‘I
do,’ they are probably in love. They might spend thousands of dollars on
the wedding and everything concerning it, but a few months down the line,
trouble sprouts up like weed: the more you kill them, the more they grow.
Somehow, no chemical can completely get rid of them, and the chemical that does
get rid of the weed also hurts the plants. Is there really a win-win
situation?
Once upon a time, I used to go ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ whenever I
heard about a wedding, but these days, I am almost filled with sadness for the
couple. I almost want to give them a condolence card. This is not
to say that I do not want to get married. I do want to get married, and I
intend to get married, but marriage does not have the same effect
anymore. I do not even have any couple to look up to and say,
‘aww.’ Apart from tax breaks, a possibly fatter income, and beautiful
children, I am seriously beginning to wonder what else one stands to gain from
marriage.
I think I would be speaking for most when I say that for
unmarried people in my generation, marriage is something we want but
fear. No man is an island, and no sane man would want to be an
island. Somewhere inside of us, we all crave a kind of connection that
only a spouse can give us, but are we willing to do the work? Are we
really willing to have petty arguments over and over? Are we willing to
be used and abused by our in-laws? Are we willing to not be always liked
by our spouse? I mean, marriage is a life time commitment, or at least,
it is supposed to be a life time commitment. Who wants to make a mistake
and live with it forever? I know I do not.
There is just something about Nigerian/African marriages
that make me stop and ponder. Does jumping the broom mean you are no
longer allowed to be yourself? I realize that after jumping the broom,
there are certain things you should probably stop doing (like going out and
coming in at three in the morning…unless of course, it is just a once in a blue
moon guys/girls night out with your friends). But does getting married
mean that your going out should be limited to work and home alone? Does
getting married mean that your wardrobe should now be limited to only Iro and
Buba? I do not condone wearing clothes that are too revealing (regardless
of your marital status), but should getting married mean that you should start
wearing only turtleneck lookalikes no matter the season?
I may not be married, but having observed a lot of
marriages and found in them nothing that thrills or excites me, I have realized
that one problem with marriages is habit. Marriage becomes a game of
habit. Who says you cannot attend a friend’s night party because you are
now married? Who says you cannot spend an entire day at Six Flags and
scream your hearts out on every ride? What stops you from going to a poetry
parlor? Oh, that’s right. You are married now. You can only
go to work, come home, eat egwusi soup, watch TV, do whatever you do in bed,
and sleep. Then you wake up in the morning and repeat the cycle.
There has
got to be a better way to be married because this current marriage thing sef…e
get as e be oh!!
www.verastic.com
vera@verastic.com
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Posted by Robot| 23.09.2008 03:17