It was not
the first time she was saying it, but it hit me differently this time. I was on
my way home from the Lagos Airport and had been dropped off at our residential
estate gate, not too far from where Evans, the kidnap kingpin, lived.
From there,
my wife said someone would be on hand to take me home.
I was not
expecting her because it was evening. I knew she would be preparing my favorite
meal of amala and vegetable soup, a ritual each time I get back home to Lagos
after weeks of being away at work in Abuja.
So, when the
car pulled up, I was surprised to see her behind the wheel. She seemed happy to
see me but I could tell from her brow that she had had a long, tiring day.
“Why are you
the one driving,” I asked. “Isn’t there anyone else at home who could have come
to pick me up?”
“In my next
life,” she replied, “I will be a man!”
I didn’t
know whether that was referring to me or to the dudes at home who may have
dodged her request to come for me. Over time, I have learned, in marriage, to
listen keenly to the things not said.
Of course
she had made this same point in jest many times before. I have also heard a
number of women say it in serious conversations. But this time, there was an
edge to her voice that gripped me. I took a deep breathe before responding.
“Do you
think, seriously, that being a man could have made any difference?”
She said she
thought so; that on the whole, men have a much easier ride through life. When
we get home, for example, she will return to the kitchen to continue her work,
while I will take off my shoes, maybe have a shower, and put up my feet while
dinner is served.
Of course,
I’m exaggerating my domestic “tyranny.”
She reeled
out all she had been through since morning from hurrying off to the farm to
staying in touch with the store to monitoring her business, and from sorting
out a special meal request by our first daughter to ensuring that she was back
on time to get my amala and vegetable soup ready.
A woman’s
life is one long, endless drudgery shared between family, friends, fools and
work. It could sometimes get very complicated if there’s a husband in the
picture.
I saw the
point but in a different way. We absolutely cannot quantify the joy that women
– and mothers – bring to our lives and the sacrifices they make to keep us
happy and content.
Our lives
would be miserable without them even though there have been times when I
wondered whether it might not have been less complicated misery.
But I don’t
think my wife – or any other woman – needs to be a man in the next life in
order to find satisfaction in this one. We don’t need to trade places, I think.
I know we
are configured differently and that hormonal differences/changes can cause
significant outcomes in attitudes and relationships.
But I think
that culture – and I use the term broadly to cover religious beliefs and
practices – has by far the greatest influence on how we see our world, our role
in it, and what we think of the future.
My wife grew
up in a generation where the woman was brought up not to regard herself as
equal to the man but to see herself as a cast in a supporting role.
The man is the
head and lord of the manor. This was not only received wisdom, it was expected
that every mother (or parent) had a duty to bring up the male child into this
heritage; a heritage which also consigned the girl child to play second fiddle
as the only guarantee to true happiness in the ultimate destination – a married
life.
The media
has not helped matters. Marketing and advertising gurus portray girls as
softies and play things, while generations of literary icons have perpetuated
the stereotype.
Popular music
has been just as guilty. Think of such lines as, “50 billion for di account
o…Versace and Gucci for your bodi o, baby….” The woman is the toy or the prey.
But who says I don’t need 50 billion naira in my own account?
The struggle
to break the mold has resulted in a rat race.
Well, the
chicken is coming home to roost in the form of burnout women, maladjusted men,
dysfunctional relationships and broken homes.
No woman
needs to bother about being a man in the next life. Nor should any man wish for
a sex change in expectation of greater fulfillment as a human being.
What we’ll
have to start doing from this life is raising our boys differently and letting
our girls express themselves beyond the scarves, ponytails and pink ribbons.
It’s not only the organs that define our gender that make us what we are; it’s
also the values we embody.
Punctuality,
hard work, consideration, respect and honesty are values that transcend gender,
and children who grow up with such positive values are unlikely to become
bigoted later in life.
Even if this
long talk is useless to those who can’t get over their chauvinism or those who
think that the testosterone is the measure of all things, I can only hope
there’s still someone out there who just wants to make the most of life’s most
precious gifts: our individuality and diversity.
Ishiekwene
is the MD/Editor-In-Chief of The Interview magazine and board member of the
Paris-based Global Editors Network
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