We complain a lot about what men do to us the weaker vessels and wonder countlessly if they can get any better, even if just for a moment. Well ladies, we aren’t the only ones with emotions running high, sometimes.

Sometimes, the guys have their own pound of flesh to retrieve no matter how romantic we think they should be. They have a few things they’d rather the women folk stopped or at least put a leash on. So far, I have been able to collate four common but pressing ones.

Hard to get. The age long myth that says that if you don’t play hard to get he wouldn’t appreciate you existence, might be wearing thin, don’t you think? What with a new springing generation of darers who would rather take th bull by the horn and approach a guy themselves without waiting to be approached much less, feign disinterest when approached. Men are fast embracing this new regime [even if it because it makes it easier for them] because no one likes to expend that much energy anymore. It is bad enough they are coming to the realisation the belief that if indeed you are playing hard to get, it means you really aren’t interested and then the next second you’re wondering why he moved on so fast, thinking he probably did because he wasn’t as interested as well. See where this is going?

Venting/irritation. We humans have a tendency to unleash, at the barest opportunity, our anger and frustrations on whoever is in sight to receive it without for our five minute madness, realising this person has absolutely nothing to do with it. This was a common complain amongst men. Now they don’t mind helping you out and holding onto you when you’re angry, mad or irritated, there just won’t mind if you do it with a little less vendetta towards them like they are the actual cause of it.

Leading them on. It is simple. Men and women don’t like to be led on. Especially if there isn’t going to be anything involved after the chase. Guys do not like when they see a green light where is clearly a red light but you’re flashing an amber ‘maybe’ light.

Sex battles. As funny as this sounds, it isn’t exactly sexy when they have to fight for sex. Especially when you’re already in the relationship and you forget that the chasing days are over and become adamant during sexual intercourse. You remind them of the chasing period and in as much as that was done for the love of you, it can be a huge turnoff.

So a male friend and I were arguing on a guy’s perspective to cheating and he had some insightful points, which of course is till don’t agree with is the justification to the act, but he did shed some light on what most of us girls have left to our imaginations. So before you begin, first start by asking yourself…

Have you ever cheated on a partner?

If this hadn’t happened to someone very close to me I’d have thought this was some kind of expensive social network joke. But alas it did.


And I was as shocked as my friend was when

I haven’t scored in a while, and so I have delved into my past. A journey into my past to bring you one of those werid episodes that makes me doubt if I have a conscience at all (I do have though). Guy Code stipulates that you don’t have anything to do with your padi’s girlfriend or ex, but when your padi’s girlfriend is Vera then I think you ain’t left with too much of a chance. When the padi in question has treated her like shit, then my skewed conscience is justified in sampling her. If Victor doesn’t understand or value what he has, then damn Guy Code if it thinks I will pass up on such a delicious morsel.

Vera is one of those girls who love fast and hard, and one thing about those who love fast and hard is that they tend to fall for the wrong kinda guy. Victor was the wrong kinda guy for my dear Vera. Victor was everything I was not those days in school – always dressed impeccably well and with a street smartness I could never match, he had girls literally kissing the floor he walked on, and believe me my guy milked it for all it was worth. I was the sidekick, a scaled down version of Victor, I had half of his street cred and was way more brilliant than he was. We both know (I mean you, yes you reading this) though that those days having brains did not compare to being handsome and street smart. The respect was between us was mutual though as I did have more subtle ways of scoring despite my social deficiencies and it was the brunt of the many jokes we told.

Back to Vera though, the long suffering girlfriend of my friend. She was the main chick in a long line of chicks; she was probably on top of the list because she was so damn fine – she could have any guy but she chose to stick to serial cheat like Victor. It was deeply mystifying and it hurt to see her being treated like shit. Vera was the stereotyped Igbo girl; a fine dark skin, perfect looking boobs and a combination of hips and bum that would draw an involuntary whistle if she struts past you. I have always had this pangs of jealousy when I see her with Victor and the way he treats her like a trophy, which was what she was to him actually when you come to think of it (She was our campus queen).

Vera came to me the first time she caught Victor’s fly down, which must have been like the thousandth time he was cheating on her. With tears in her eyes she poured her out in what must have been the most heartbreaking tears anybody had shed in my presense. After a glass of brandy I had stolen from my dad’s bar during the holidays she calmed down and told me about how He treats her despite how much she cares about him. Like what Dale Carnegie would say I was a very good conversationalist; I listened. Knowing my padi would never change I didn’t bother him. I became a pro bono psychiatrist, a sound board for her misery tales, and when Victor met her once in my place he didn’t feel threatened or suspicious, that’s how much confidence he had in his prowess and me.
Saturdays became our meetings day. She would come with some food because she knew I couldn’t cook to save my life and she would spill her mind while I just sat there and listened. I made the appropriate responses while dying of lust inside everytime she came around, I was lusting after her so bad that I didn’t know how I survived those days. I knew she always looked forward to our talks and when we had nothing to talk about I would get a romantic comedy and we would see it together. Vera was a sucker for happy endings and I indulged her. I remember walking her to the market to get groceries or following her to the saloon (for Vera I was hopelessly romantic) She was happiest when she was with me and I just let her chatter on without contributing much.

Victor thought me harmless and Vera didn’t know how much I ached for her. The swell of her lips made for kissing, her finely shaped boobs meant for a gentle touch and sweet caresses, the dance of her boobs as she walks, her heart stopping cleavage when she bends to serve me a meal, the contours of her hourglass body which I stare at as she is lost in the movies and that sweetness that hurts because you know you can’t have it. I did the best thing to save me from drowning, I cut her off. I went on a fucking spree just to get her off my mind, I avoided Victor because I didn’t want to despise him and I drowned my misery in bottles. I had enslaved my heart to Vera.

Exams were the perfect cover to escape the attentions of the two agents of nemesis in my life and I had successfully extracted myself or so I thought until said nemesis caught up with me. I was doing my laundry one Saturday, with my doors opened so I could enjoy JayZ lines as they flowed out my CD player when the music suddenly went out.

Wondering why it went off in mid lyrics while there was still light, I went to check and saw Vera in my room with a sad smile that could break a heart. “I have missed you” she said as she walked towards me “And I know now that I love you” those words took my heart to a place it has never been, it went past cloud nine and way beyond the threshold of what the climax of happiness should be.

Lips met lips and hands in a wave of emotions discarded clothes. I was in a rush to savor every nock and cranny of wonderland. Six months I have waited, six months I have lusted with my loins and heart, and six months have been worth the wait and as I plunged in I knew I was home “this is how it was meant to be”.

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