Getting dumped is no excuse for murder

[Photo: Courtesy]

Earlier in the week, I ran into my childhood crush. Her youthful lustre is long gone, replaced by a plump, maternal body, tightening facial skin and the ubiquitous wig that denotes a woman who has accepted fate. She didn’t stir a thing in me. Nothing.  

Ten years ago, if she walked into a room I was in, I would become super hypertensive and weak in the knees. I would froth in the mouth and stutter to the point of incoherence.

But when I did gather courage and told her she made me feel, she listened expressionlessly, like I wasn’t even there in the first place. She made me feel useless, like a sole on an old shoe.  It hurt. 

She is among numerous women who have rejected my advances citing various reasons (chiefly economic). And each of these rejections hurt and humbled me.

There are countless others who have eaten my food, drunk my beer, chopped my money, wasted my time, but in the end, when I told them that I loved them, they laughed.

“You must be joking!” they giggled, and instantly put me in the friend zone (that cold, dark jail). Some said NO. Others strung me along, wasted more of more of my time and money. 

Now, it is easy to assume that I have been unlucky all my life, but I have met wonderful women who listened and bought my vibe and game. And we had good times together. And I have wasted the time and money of a few women here and there, too.

Growing up, we were taught that seduction and dating was like an audition. You spotted a girl who tickled your fancy and you tried your luck. All male species are wired that way. To woo her, you used every trick in the book. In town, there are dinners, night outs, chocolates, flowers and you can invest all and still get nothing in return.

[Photo: Courtesy]

Then some ugly bastard with a stinky mouth sleeps with the woman you are chasing by just by flashing his sweaty armpit.

But, seducing a girl you want until she gives in to your game used to be one of the skills that defined manhood. Often, we lost to men who were taller, more handsome, more moneyed and perhaps proper plumbers.

Equally, we also lost to men who made us question a woman’s sense of judgment. Time always proved us right when rumours about gonorrhoea swept through the village.

Violence was never an option. When our hearts were broken, we nursed the heartbreak a series of hangovers. And our friends would pat us on the back and lie, “She wasn’t that hot anyway.”  

Suicide, murder were rarely contemplated. A few months down the line we overcame, and met a girl who even if not necessarily better, was more loving, respectful and life moved on. In fact, it used to be unmanly to cry because a woman left you. You nursed the heartbreak like a man - you shrugged her off and swaggered into a pub.  

More intelligent men would stand in front of the mirror and ask themselves why the girl left and fix it.  I know several men who were dumped because they were broke, and rolled their sleeves, luck smiled upon them and a year down the line, they had a good job or a flourishing business and the girl who chased some useless fellow with a tattoo and bling bling, always wanted to back. Revenge has never been sweeter.  

And as for the monies we spend on women, just have a proper sense of judgment. Don’t pay school fees for a woman unless you are her father, or you have higher academic credentials with loose cash to burn.

If you are a mere farmer, or businessman and you pay for her hoping that you will pet her after she graduates, there is a 99 per cent chance she will dump you for some random thug she meets in college.

Lastly, Jordan Peterson, in his must-read book, 12 Rules for Life: Antidote to Chaos, says, women exist to rid men of mediocrity. They do these with the tu-madharau, by encouragement, by abandoning us at our worst, because women always want the best out of men. 

Don’t kill a woman. Nothing is more abundant than ocean water and readily available sex. 


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