Most times,w ell, maybe always, when people talk about feminism,  I shut up. On the occasions I try to say something,  I sound like I’m talking from both sides of my mouth, I sound like I’m contradicting myself.

The concept, I identify with, the application confuses me. I hate confusion,  so I shy away from talking feminism. I like to keep my sanity.I say I am not a feminist,  and someone says I am pro woman.  That I think I am. It does not sound any different from feminism, but I think, going by how I see feminism being displayed to mean a woman able to do to do the things a man should, and doing them only to prove that she can, is a little too complex for me and complexities numb my senses, reason why I hardly ever talk feminism.

Sometimes I take feminism to mean liberation, female liberation, which is good, but liberty is given by man. when women were looking for liberation, I am most certain it was from fellow humans, God created people free, wrong or right, I think a woman is free, a feminist is liberated. I could be one, unfortunately I am lazy, and I think being a woman and a femenist would mean me, being a woman and a man, two in one. No can do. Pass.

I have always believed that the sexes (I saw somewhere someone preaching that referring to gender as sex is derogatory. The things we were taught!) are not meant to be in competition, but in complementation,  I am weirdly wired to think that the man should be the one to put on the generator for instance, or change the bulb or lift the boxes into the booth and out, I may be able to do those things (in the absence of the man, but believe me I won’t do them just so I can show that I am equal. It is difficult to gauge that when dealing with different compositions. (I don’t know if anyone notices, but even nature differentiates between the sexes. Oops! Gender if you like). i don’t expect reactions to  being hit in the chest between a man and a woman to be the same, yet we are all humans.

Feminism just exposes my incoherence, my inability to comprehend concepts alien to nature…I  told you, this makes me sound stupid! Thank God this is not an exam and my thoughts are allowed to run random.


I used to read. A lot. I used to be able to finish a book in a day, two if it’s bulky, But I stopped. I got lazy, or maybe I just grew up. I would take a book, start reading and then stop, but I would carry it around everywhere. If i read up to ten pages at a sitting it would seem like some major accomplishment…I guess it is…better some reading than none. the day I came across” Joys of Motherhood”, a pirated copy that I would have tossed aside, I couldn’t. some pages were so light I barely saw the writing, some so dark with ink blobs, but I stuck on, I read it, even coming back to read the pages that were not chronologically arranged, I read all,  and as I turned over the last page, I curled up In the chair I was and cried. I wept for the woman to whom motherhood was such a big deal but who did not seem to have benefitted from it(I wonder what I mean by this too. but I think having children, especially the first one, and investing as much as she did in him, she deserved much more than she got. She didn’t deserve to die unhappy, definitely not in the streets). That was one hell of a woman, equal, some might say, to any man, but I say, that was a woman, more woman than many  women, more human than any man.

The thing with writing sometimes, is that many see a person as what they write, I guess we all saw Buchi Emecheta, through her books, portraying stong female characters that strive to rise above impediments, as a feminist.( I still do not have a clear-cut definition) even when she claimed to be a womanist…but what’s the difference?!

Well, I think a feminist is that woman who thinks To hell with a man,  I’m equal and can do this, regardless of the fact that she has a man ready and willing to be there for that, and a womanist is the female who thinks, whoah, I  have got to get this done or it doesn’t get done at all, she’s willing to let some man get it done, but there is  one, so it falls unto her, and she’s not out to prove that she can do it and do it  better, but that she can do it because it falls on her to do it. I think I would describe feminism as a choice and womanism as circumstantnce…I am that kind of woman who would not mind my man holding open the door for me, the type who would not think it a burden holding open the door for myself too, like, hey, i deal with whatever situation I find myself in.

These were thoughts I kept at bay, I was afraid to voice out that i am not a feminist, trust is, i can sulk when hubby does not buy my body cream, or kayan sallah, but i don’t mind when my money gets into housekeeping, I take no offence when hubby asks for special dish, as long as he takes none when I present my shopping list. we compliment each other, I think that’s what nature intended


“I will work towards the liberation of women,but I am not a feminist, I’m just a woman.” This right here, by Buchi, I hold dear. I relate. And now, I too, can say, I am not a feminist, I am just a woman, ferociously so.



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