On 14th
July, round about 2000hrs EAT, I happened to be at the scene of a
crime. A bunch of crooks got tired of sitting in front of prison
bars, cuddling prisoners' heads with the butts of their guns.
Frustrated with guarding their own species of sex, never having to do
more than butt the prisoners, let loose on the streets of Pwani Si
Kenya’s Shanzu. Problem.
Their foray into the
armpits of the Tourist Town’s foliage set the neighbourhood alight.
Literally. Gunshots left, right and centre, mostly aimed at the sky.
These crooks were exchanging smiles, snatching guns from each other
as kids to toys. Much to the shit loosenings of the innocent
bystanders.
Every Dick, Dick and
Dick legally outside Shimo La Tewa's prison gates instantly became a
candidate for the hostile reception party these crooks’ boots,
whips, blows, bayonets and gun barrels had in store for them. Forget
that many of these men were trying to get home to Mtwapa after a long
hard day’s work in the sputtering of Tourist Hotels that are the
mainstay of the Coast’s economy.
***
Act II,
Sin 1.
You drop
a cigarette in a litter zone. This zone, it so happens, is not a
designated litter bin. It is, however, a litter bin nonetheless.
Problem.
Solution?
You pick up your butt and walk off, right?
***
Act III,
Sin-band 1.
All the
world's problems are, from every individual, picked up and dumped in
one designated problem tank. They are then shared out equitably to
every individual on the planet. It is then said that we would all,
unequivocably, drop the new problems, pick up our shitty little
problems and stalk off. Never looking back, the Lot's wives of us.
***
Are the
above scenarios similar? Is Act II Sin 1 similar to Act III Sin-band
1? Is the problem tank analogy the same as the litter bin hyper
thesis?
Perhaps.
They all have problems. The second and third are probably most
correlatable, but even then, not quite.
Unlike
litter, our problem tank is full of material and immaterial issues.
That cigarette's butt, plastic bottle, Java cup, busted Mobile phone,
condom, condom wrapper, lollipoop-stick, or black gangsta hoodie in
the bin. They can all be picked up. They can all be dropped. Easy
peasy...quite the breezy.
Can you
do the same for – or with – a social problem? Moreso, is the
problem equal when exhibited by different individuals?
Does a
high-class call girl, for instance, suffer through the same issues a
street-walking strumpet does? Is prostitution a problem, or just the
hive that nests problematic bees?
Act IV
Sin 1
A guy
stands at a podium. As he takes out a card from his pocket, out fall
not one – not two – but a six-pack of sex-packs. Guy is a
lecturer, preacher, politician, president or other exalted panel
speaker doing his mouth runs in an auditorium full of eager young
grasping sponges of minds. Like minds.
Society
preaches protection and safe sex. Yet:
- Guy will most likely be embarrassed.
- Crowd will quite likely erupt in laughter, aka LOL, alias LTAO.
These
like-minded eager to learn folks will still – quite likely – bear
this double standard. Preach protection, then shake their damn heads
at it in equal measure. Problem?
***
We live in a quite
stratified society. Where every individual, despite being individual,
unique, is expected – or expects – to fit in. One in which there
are tonnes of eager boxes waiting patiently to be filled. To be
entered. We have levels and lanes, wigs and high-roads full of
self-interest and other-disinterest. Yet all these somehow merge for
and/or against common enemies.
What common enemies?
Recently, our common
enemy has either been very sexual or very religious. Or very
religiously sexual, sexually religious.
Very sexual. Very
homo. Very natural. Very same.
Because sex, like it
or not, is natural. Take a look at your general pubic configuration
and have yourself a gory light bulb moment. Hey socket, meet plug. Go
ye forth and electrify.
Because homo, like
it or don't, is same. Homosex, is same nature. As in natural. See
history books. You were not taught by some outside force to be
straight or curveballed.
Because individual,
like it or not, we are. As a planet, we are a globe full of
individual persons, with individual needs, and individual goals.
Should one individual's needs be to score goals aplenty for the
'same' team, then that prerogative is their own to do with as they
please.
As is their bum and
pubic region.
What's stopping you
from doing as you please, always caring too fucking much about your
neighbours shit et al? Mavi usioyala, yakuwashiani?
What's should stop
me from being?
Status quo?
It's nigh on
impossible to simply sit there and talk about the issue of
homosexuality as an exclusive issue. Yet, and this is where
#teamHappy goes wrong, our problems are interconnected. Before your
brain goes into overdrive, dear reader, trying to figure out if I
think homosexuality is a problem that needs a solution, let me spell
it out for you: being gay is a problem.
Homosexuality in
itself, you will find, is not the problem. However, the modalities of
being curved–not-straight, are. And not just for 'the gays'. It is
in fact in the way society interacts, when it cares to, with them,
and how they react to it. How they interact with society, if they
bother, and how it reacts to them.
There seems to be a
certain protocol and bureaucracy that correlates gay guy sex to
feminism; where feminism refers to being feminine. And since women
need to be controlled in our society lest they run wild and refuse to
open their legs in silence, so need the gay guys.
The irony is that
when manly men are shackled, the have the luxury of revolting. Not so
much for their women, and their womenly men.
Did the MauMau
revolt because they were denied land that was rightfully theirs, or
because they then had to walk around this land with a noose around
their necks, from whence hang a metallic pedantic pendulum of
identification?
The Kipande, a
colonial ID system that was basically the equivalent of Slave
TrackIt, still exists. Not only in our linguistic parlance, where we
still reserve the term for our wallets and IDs; but also in our
minds.
We still call them
kipande, and like women's tribal names, they remain as their cultural
society intended them to. Women, in my native tongue, are -lashed
'silence'. Directly translated, 'mutumia' refers to 'person whose
lips are sealed'.
Men, conversely, are
called 'choice', or 'brave', depending on which scenario of
preference they are zooming in on. 'Muthuri' is the 'person who
chooses,' while 'mundu-urume' is the 'person who is brave.' Choice is
a man, bravery is a man. Silence is a woman. And what is a man's
choice?
Man's choice is as
to which woman's lips he will seal. Which women he will bravely
silence, awed as they will be by his courage and ability to choose so
well. It's no wonder the blowjob is such a fast-rising – and
arousing – sensation. The only sound she can make then would be a
gaggle or slurp...but I digress.
What society, thus,
cannot fathom, is why any man would choose to be silenced. The gay
guy, being so 'womanly', is expected to be just as silent. Because he
so chose to be. A woman. Yet in true double standard, he is also
expected not to choose to 'be a woman'; not to 'be a 'Desperate
Housewife'; not to 'be a queen'.
He is expected to
choose. To be brave. To be man.
Ergo, it's either
'take your pride parade where it belongs. In a closet far far away'
... or 'why don't you be...somebody? Why are you being...a woman?'
And just to make it
a tad worse, sometimes it's either...or...or die.
So why bother coming
out? Why not simply be who you are, and not have to come out into the
shit streets in defense of who you, I, we...are? Pride at having come
out should be the bravest, most stupid choice a guy can make.
[First Published on July 19th 2013]
[First Published on July 19th 2013]
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