When I was little, my dad used to sit me down and tell me:
And I would be looking at him confused, because the last time I checked, my younger brother was a boy.
So should I not come and play with my brother again? I would wonder with tears in my eyes.
“My dear, these people besides your brothers have hidden agenda…” he would continue, as if he had just read my mind. “Don’t go near them because they are worse than Ayamatanga.”
“Ah!” I would lament. The man apparently knew my weakest spot.
“Ayamatanga?” I would ask worried.
And my father would nod.
“Once you do” he would continue. “You go get belle!”
“Don’t say I did not warn you o” he would insist, drawing his ears almost to the ground with all fierceness. And fear will be catching me.
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Pregnancy then, was like a curse. Hehehe the word could literally send shivers down my spine. And once a friend makes the mistake of insulting me, saying: “Quincy you go get belle”, I would spit on the ground, and then, send my hands over my head saying “God forbid! na you go get belle!”
And believe me that would be the end of my friendship with that friend. It did not matter that we were once best friends. I did not care that he or she gave me their baby-rubber to play with the day before, or that we kukuma did amebaba that morning. Once they say “Preg…” Our friendship was over.
So as God would have it, I spent half of my teenage years pinching faces, and drawing my ears at boys.
I was a tigress!
I could also remember that back then, my mother’s own tactics were less brutal. Her weapon of destruction was the Nigerian movies of those days. In the movies then, you would find scenes where a boy would be pursuing a girl round a tree, and calling her sweet names and then, the next day, the girl was pregnant.
Just like that!
That would be the scene my mother would pause, and then shout:
I would come running from the room into the sitting room, only to find my mother tapping the chair next to her saying, “Oya see dawn…watch!”.
After the scene had passed, she would turn to me and then ask:
“Shey you have seen? Like listen, like no listen”
And I’d return to my room more confused than ever, wondering: What was I supposed to listen?
As time went by, those childhood fears began to give way to more pressing concerns like feelings, emotions and of course my parents were there to eventually change the story. It was no longer an Ayamatanga gist.
“You have to keep yourself untouched” My mother said “let your virginity be a gift for your husband”.
When she had first said that, I had grinned so hard that I was sure my teeth were going to fall off. I was so excited that I had a gift to present to a man I was yet to meet, but as I grew older and started understanding the world, I began to wonder if I’d have my own gift. If the man I was saving myself for, would also save himself for me. But we all know how that usually plays out-very few men stay virgins these days, and the ones who do, get ridiculed to the point of surrender.
In our part of the world-Nigeria- our men are brought up to learn how to properly use a condom, not to be virgins, and many have attributed this to the fact that it is a man’s world.
But what I don’t get is, if these boys don’t need the sex talk in respect to staying ‘untouched’, since they are expected to be men when they grow up( the mighty ones who should possess all the experience in the field of sex as long as they do not bring a pregnant girl home),it would be mean that these boys/men would have to experiment, abi? Because the last time I checked, one has to work for a reasonable length of time in a particular field of interest, before he or she is regarded to have obtained some level of experience in that field.
So just out of curiosity, who will our brothers be experimenting with? People’s wives? Sex peddlers? Doll babies? Goats? Lamas? Or the same daughters we want to keep untouched?
Have we ever stopped to consider that perhaps, Virgin boy plus Virgin girl would equal Virgins.
Personally, I think that just as much emphasis is placed on the girl child to keep herself till marriage, same should be placed on the male child. Otherwise, nature would eventually balance itself out in some way.
But before I start going off like one pastor’s wife or deaconess, kindly tell us how your first sex talk was like, with your parents when you were a kid. Did it go well? What ridiculous stories did your parents tell you about sex?
If you are married and already have kids, what age do you think it’s appropriate to lecture your kids about sex?Do you think sex education should be inculcated in school curriculum?