Woman thou art…

A smile is the most beautiful curve on a woman’s body – Unknown

The creation story, even with its loop holes (reminds me of one CS’s resignation), is quite interesting.

On the first day God did his thing. He probably woke up and scanned the galaxy and saw a blue mass of nothingness and decided it was time to do something about that. Maybe he hated how it looked, so plain. So he decided to have some fun and let his mind go wild. He was the first creative.

Imagine you’re the first person, or being on this universe. No traffic jam, no pollution, no vodka (God no vodka!) no wars, no hunger there’s just peace of mind. You get bored and decide you need to change that. A little bit of conflict here to brighten up your day, some religion there to stroke your already big ego and then throw in a hint. Send some guy on earth to change water into wine and over time watch it evolve into vodka (Vodka, finally!) and maybe beer.

So he called up his angels and told them each to draft a copy of what they’d like the place to look like.

“Hey guys, this is big! I’ll need all of you on board!”

The good guys Gabriel and his crew team up to form a study group and discuss what would make the earth beautiful. They’ve never seen anything other than the pearly gates and streets lined with gold. So the first draft looks something like heaven.

“You guy, look here…” Gabriel says “This thing can’t look like heaven. You know that guy gets mad. Bana get creative.”

“Sasa what do we do?”

“I don’t know let’s make it weird. Si you know stuff like monster na vitu ka hizo.”

“What monsters?”

“Kwani you were never told bed time stories?”

Then there’d be the bad boy crew with Lucifer heading the team. His ideas would be radical.

“You guy let’s give that place a sound system. Weka woofers kila corner. It can be a night club.”

“That sounds good. We should do that.”

“Sawa sawa let me draft up that ka plan and tuma to that guy. But nowadays he’s a mtiaji.”

A few weeks of planning and drafting and pitching and finally God picks the best plan. Actually his plan is an infusion of all plans except one – Lucifer’s. Out of spite Lucifer decides to sit on the forbidden chair and gets caught red handed. In fact that’s even where the term ‘red handed’ originated from. You’ve seen these cartoons where the devil is red? Case closed.

So a trial is called and Lucifer is on trial.

God starts:

“Siku hizi unajifeel hot sana”

An Angel intervenes “Ummh sir, none of us understands tongue here.”

“Never mind. Now I’ll send you someplace that matches your crime. Any last words?”

“No sir just remember this” Lucifer flips the middle finger and the index follows “Deuces” he screams as he falls all the way down.

So the guy creates the world and finally man. He realized there was a major design flaw, everything else was perfect except man. Man looked too lonely with a trunk in the wrong place, not like the elephant. Finally they decide man needs someplace to put his out of place trunk and woman is born. Nothing like his image – they went a bit wild on the design. Woman in the 21st century would’ve been named man 2.0. Better at everything including looks. Finally man had a companion or minion or so he thought – you know God plans man laughs?


When a lady, especially your girlfriend or mother asks you:

“Are you going out like that?”

Then you look at yourself head to toe like a girl that’s about to curve a fuck boy, then look back at her and say:

“Yes, what’s wrong with it?”

You can see her almost foam at the corners of her mouth with rage but she swallows hard and smiles. You were supposed to say something like:

“This? No I’m not going out like this. I just didn’t want to get the other shirt dirty before I left.”

She will smirk, see into your lie but appreciate the fact that you did even lie. But men, we are the scum of the earth. Before women we didn’t even have lines so reading between them is a problem. So you will say something dumb like

“Yeah, kwani (don’t ever say Kwani to the most significant woman in your life – just don’t. People that said that condescending statement ended up with a penis missing and a pan to the head) what’s wrong with it?”

“That shirt, it’s torn.”

“Ah, no one will notice.”

“I, did!” she’ll say “Enda utoe, unataka kuniabisha?”

So you will tuck your tail between your legs and mumble all the way to your room and look for something a bit more presentable. You will stare at that shirt for thirty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong with it – it’s just a little worn at the color. You will stare at your bare chest and subconsciously touch your missing rib. You wonder what Adam ever did. Imagine eve telling him what to wear:
“Adam! You can’t go out like that. What will the giraffes think? Banana leaves seriously?”

“What do you know woman! You got us kicked out of the garden!” Adam would retort in protest

“Keep talking, let’s see where you’ll find another woman!”

“Well, see I’ve been talking to God recently…”

Adam doesn’t even finish the sentence, he gets slapped.

“Behind my back? Eh! You think he will make you another me?”

“No we were…”

“Shut up. Go talk to your hoes…” and that ladies and gentlemen is where that phrase came from.


So you put on your new shirt and walk into the sitting room. You don’t walk in for anything else other than approval. Silent approval. They never tell you that it’s better. They just look at you and look away. That’s the go ahead. You can go out and not be an embarrassment.

Over the next week you will be the subject of her chama – you and the other hopeless guys they fell in love with. They will discuss their experiences and talk about missing socks and forgetting where the damn car keys are every time. The half thought through dates at a coffee house forced on them while they could be out watching football and drinking beers will be the hottest topic.

But they are women, our women. We love to hate them and hate to love them. Let me go change this shirt before I get into more trouble.



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