I like to tea’se Lawyerman by saying he did ‘packaging’ for me when I first met him. I thought he was a quiet sombodi. Hian! Lol. But the thing is this – when it comes to packaging, guys do it less, girls do it so much more. Why? Yorubas say ‘ara e ni o’n se’ – you are doing yourself.
In my estimation, I think that guys marry thinking that the girl won’t change and the girl marries, thinking the guy will change (his ways). I think this is one of the biggest causes of friction in marriages after finances and infidelity.
Girls will pretend that they have only had one se’ksu:al partner (because they feel that they have to explain the absence of the h:y:m:e:n when it is finally done). Lawyerman says most guys know we are lying when we tell them we have only had one c:ecks:ual partner but they just humour us and pretend to believe us. Of course, there are girls who have indeed had only one c:ecks:ual partner but how many are they? How many times will you be able to have only one se’x:ua_l partner before your present boo?
Growing up, JOPA used to iron our clothes for us. We were lucky to have a washing machine when most families hadn’t yet had one but JOPA would still hand wash our expensive fabrics for us. I started ironing for my ex in my seven famine years with them. And to think that I don’t even iron my own clothes. I dry-clean them or wear them rumpled. Then, when I met Lawyerman, I started doing the same thing again. Packaging myself to look like I am a homely husband’s clothes ironing damsel. And Lawyerman started expecting his clothes to be ironed instead of appreciating it when I ironed it as he used to. One day, I asked myself, ‘a dey crase’? I was ironing for the wrong reasons. I was ironing for my men, not because I love ironing (I don’t) but because I was packaging. So I stopped. And the sky did not fall down. And he did not leave me. Of course Lawyerman sulked a bit but when he realised that this lady was not for turning. Soon, he forgot that I ever ironed his clothes as a matter of duty.
I have had guys confide in me – once they got married, the c:ecks dried up. The wet Tshirt on a rainy night out with no b’ra underneath stopped. What the guy does not know is that the girl never liked going br:a:less in the rain but she did it and did c:ecks:ual gymnastics in the name of packaging. I know you can’t indefinitely be a si’zz:ling goddess. Even me sef, Lawyerman has compared me to a talented but old footballer who is about to retire but occasionally comes up with some brilliant play. I am talking about if he does not kiss you right, does not touch you right but you are there mo’anin:g and groaning and writhing in c:ecks:ual ec’stas:y instead of letting him know how you like to be touched. My sister, for how long na? How long are you going to be groaning in irritation inside but groaning in ecstasy outside? If you do get married as you are hoping ( shebi that is the reason for the packaging abi?), you will be condemning yourself to a marriage of shitty c:ecks: o.
And o ye damsel forming spirikoko when you really really are up for anything including B’-‘D’-‘S’-‘M? Because he is a brother in church, you are forming sister spirikoko when you know that you are not being true to your s:e’n;s:u’al and c:ecks:ual side? G:od forbid that Olu the driver will start looking like Tyson Beckford to you later.
You don’t like how his mouth makes noise when eating? Tell him.
You don’t like his wet puppy key:sses? Tell him.
You don’t like how he presses the toothpaste from the middle? Tell him.
You don’t like how he spends money yanfu yanfu? Tell him.
You want him to roughplay but he keeps doing gentleplay? Tell him.
You want gentle play but all he does is roughplay? Tell him.
You want more f.o:r’,e.p:l;ay? Tell him.
You don’t like cooking? Tell him?
You don’t like hanging out with his friends every Friday night, cooking Jollof rice for them? Tell him
You don’t like how he does not know that you have other er’ogenou’s zones apart from your b:u:u;u:bs? Tell him. Actually, don’t just tell him that one, show him subtly where your other e’r’.o’g.e;n:o.u:s zones are