Good Morning Sir....Dedicated to Women Globally
Good Morning Sir.
By Patrick Nkono Luganda
This Writing is dedicated to the millions of women who live life of agony all over the world under the yoke of brute bull power.
Good morning sir and how was your night?
Last night...aahh last night, I saw you fall asleep in the twinkle of an eye!!! Simply amazing. You have been staying up all night for a long time...many weeks, months and years...sobbing till the tears wet your bosom and the eyes get worryingly red like Indian hot chillies. My love, my love. What happened lately? You discovered your sleep and now you fall easily into slumber
My Darling, since I discovered you, I have found solace in your words of comfort. When I lie in your chest my lover, I feel safe. I am reassured of a life free of violence and injury. If all men were like you, the world would be that much better for all of us women. I love your words of comfort. They brought me back to life...tell me your thoughts my new found idol.
On this 8th day of March when the world fusses over you my dear, I have chosen to stay in bed and I am in bed just thinking about lots of stuff. The scenes whirl through my head at the speed of the spotted cheetah. Now the cheetah is cantering, the scenes are clearer. I am thinking of domestic violence and why people keep doing it. Is it an addiction? Tell me, what makes one hurt a person they purport to love so much?
Floods of questions invade my mind, my privacy is no more and I am compelled to tell you and please tell the others. Let them all plead in unison with the world to end the violence. Stop the beatings, the battering, the ramming, the scolding, the scorning...stop it. Save the innocent members of the family, neighbourhood, communities from the wanton violence, daily visited upon them.
In private it is worse. To that later. Maybe I am saying the wrong things to the wrong person. If that is the case, forget it I am just thinking aloud. Rambling, rumbling and muttering to myself!
You beat a woman to a coma? Come on my brother. You chase her around the house making her sleep with the kids in a bid to protect herself? She keeps silent in attempts to preserve her self esteem and dignity. Yet again today, you are on her case to anybody who will listen 24/7? You rape her repeatedly refusing to negotiate for sex with the woman you ‘paid for’? Amazingly true, the world is on your side brother! You are a harlot, a professional prostitute, you bellow out?
The world gives a standing ovation to the undignified brutality and shameless utterances of man. Woman, woman, woman...wherein lies your source of the plethora of unending woes? Ooooh daughter of my mother, who faced it before you, my sister you are growing old. Am telling you, beware of harder times in years ahead.
In the years ahead, your supple body will be wrinkled and withered. The ebony skin colour will be gone. The infectious smile that brings dimples to your cheeks will then be a cross between smiling and weeping. Oh woman daughter of my mother you have faded! What did he do to you?
My love please let me lie on your powerful chest. I have mustered enough strength to say it all, and talk I will. One afternoon, after enjoying himself to the full he started to belch as he worked a toothpick skilfully through his remnant teeth. He spoke thus:
A woman I bought with my money and paid bride price instead of thanking me, for looking after her for all these years is making false accusations. She accuses me of hastening her aging by beating her. Goodness am I God to stop her from growing old. Woman, you should be grateful to me. I saved you from death by marrying you. Where are your teenage playmates? Where is Anita who used to plait you? And where is Angelina, the black beauty who you accused of sleeping with me when she came visit us when we had just got married?
Okay, tell me: Where is Fiona and Brown who had a long nose and large hips like a Tutsi Princess. Where are they? Did he not perish in the HIV/AIDS inferno? You thankless, good for nothing woman. You would have died years ago. You are lucky to have a good friend and partner like me.
That I beat you to a coma? How I wish it had been a full-stop! Which man wouldn’t, thrash the daylights out of you? Woman do you remember the facebook crazy years? Let me refresh your mind. You had that monkey faced facebook lover who you shared your life with all day. When I grew suspicious you migrated to twitter then, whatssup. You thought I was a fool until I hired an ICT expert to track you down.
I have no regrets. No regrets at all. That it was virtual love not real. True he never touched you physically but it was a gross insult on my manhood. I beat you thoroughly and properly too. I began with a double slap and kicked you hard. You screamed and shouted ‘Mike’s love was real and nearer your heart than I will ever get. You even said he made love to you tenderly and so caringly that you had repeated sexual orgasms here in this house while your lover Mike was in Malawi.
I told you 'useless good for nothing harlot... go to Malawi and greet Kamuzu Banda's ghost for me. Tell Kamuzu that your lover Mike will soon join him to polish his shoes. I will kill him even if gt means smoking him out using witchcraft.
Can you then blame me for sleeping with your sisters? Can you accuse me of loving the university student at Lovington Girls University or the secondary school girl next door? You drove me to the bars to drink and love the barmaids. You have grown so old so fast because the body was over used, to please your multiple lovers. I used to tell you but your family, friends and relatives refused to listen.
My husband give my life back to me I beg of you. Why continue to whip me right into my last years on this earth. You continuously flog me mercilessly. Ever since I met you, it has been a life of accusations galore. Decades ago, when my white teeth blinded you, I would smile and your heart would melt. Later my smile made you frown. Today my smile annoys you and all that I do.
When you hit me and I cry you beat me harder. I do not understand because when you beat me and I do not cry, you beat me even harder accusing me of all tribes of crimes. I am not an angel but I am now nearer God. Your worldly ways and ungodly conduct leave me no option, but to run to the sanctuary of the Almighty loving god, my Father in heaven. Into the caring arms of his only son Jesus Christ. But even then, you have refused to accept my church, my new home and you have found new enemies in my place of refuge. You say the pastors are my latest lovers. You have added them to the unending chronology of men I have 'loved' in my life. My brothers and sisters, in Christ are your sworn enemies? Can you imagine this God? I place the remaining days of my life in Your Oh Lord...to be continued