I have recently been conscious about moral responsibility; the fact if you know better, do better. Own up to your praise or blame. If you benefit from an immoral act even in ignorance, when the truth is out, you have a moral responsibility in retribution to those oppressed. This is how true reconciliation is achieved.
This awakening coincided with the fact that I started wanting more from women I interacted with. I wanted that A1 pussy a nigga who has really connected with her receives. I wanted her mind more than sex. This developed to an understanding of a woman’s role in building a man and a man’s role in building a woman. I wrote this article as one way of retribution; illustrate my findings so to glare the ignorance to the rest of my brothers, so we can own up to our moral responsibility.
A black woman, A black man
Conversations with a friend made me understand what a black woman is, and how she respects a man, but only a man. A man is the one who protects and provides the fortress to be guarded and maintained by the woman. Unraveling below the surface of that statement, we see the engine is run by the building and support that they offer each other.
A woman builds and protects a man by minimising his distractions, heightening his focus on what is important for survival. Steers the ship in the right direction, fighting leeches off; very protective of her territory. Reminds me of a chicken guarding her chicks- fights anyone and anything off but just a week ago it was a little bitch scared of everything.
A man in his capacity protects the fortress from any ills of the world that poses harm to the woman. She possesses the miracles of heavens in giving birth and nurturing; men being the gods who guard it from the evils.
So now when I go out to places of the night sky I am very conscious of this aspect, adding a different dimension in how I engage with women. This led me to thinking how our father’s and brother’s game was before in trying to get in, to how we meet our ends now. I remember ndiyi-laaitie; oobhuti would call me to make a plan discretely inside the homes of girls they wanted (because girls were always at home being taught how to hold a fortress down). I was the link to them setting a certain time to speak (no cell phones back then). This arrangement would be introduced and concluded within the first proposal statement, “Ndiya kuthanda.” Straight to the point- that raw. Nthabi told me that there is no “like” in our languages, it’s all love, and your proposal is given as real as it is. The power in that statement always led to ukubanjiswa is’tina, the girl would say, “Ndizo buyela kuwe.” This gave her time to investigate if what this man proposes he can really supply and provide the right fortress.
These days we fucked with culture and now lure women with Shakespearean notes to sleep with us. We have westernised the game. We sell women dreams. Our women have been dumbed down to believe in proposals without time to scrutinize if the guy bares the right arms for the fortress. Men get away with expecting a woman to pay for dates that a man invited her out to, outside of her comfort on his own accord. He then still expects a woman to bare a financial burden to his request. How is this nigga going to take care of the real business when he cannot handle uvula mlomo? But because she accepted a dream and not reality, she puts up with it.
I was a great seller of dreams; I’m very poetic, good times- ignorance. I have since been freed to maturity. I chose to be in spaces where I can interact with a woman and see if we match each other’s requirements- even if it is just for the night. Now I do not party Fridays and Saturdays; I realised it is hard to party with the enslaved. Corporate people work from Monday to Friday, grinning at the ills of the racist, bullshit, capitalist system that confines them. On the weekend they continue to perpetuate the system when releasing their stress. They release their stress looking for pussy and Patron. Dangerous hunters with poison in their spears, seeking to poison women with liquor. This achieves the lowering of our women’s standards and the exploitation occurs. They not seeking to engage and build rather exploit because that is the world we live in.
One weekend I went out with the enslaved and the ratchet music is racking. I’m wilding in nostalgia with everybody else in the club as soon as “Sista Bethina” was cued in. O’shit. As I recited every lyric I realised why on game perspective, it is hard going out with the enslaved. “Kukhon’ ozolahla!” This lyric exemplifies what the song celebrates; the poisoning game tactics of our current male hunters. Back in the d, in my village, women who smoked or consumed liquor were frowned upon. Cigarettes and alcohol were seen poisonous to the biological structure where new life is born. As a god, a man’s role was seen to fight those evils. In the western lifestyle we have adapted, we poison our women with the evils our oppressors own, adding growth to their wealth/power to continue oppressing us. Slaves.
Western culture does not protect its women; it is a patriarchal culture where gods do not protect heavens but the rights of a few men. This is the culture we have adapted. Feminism rises in a society that does not ensure its women that their fortresses are protected. That is illustrated in western men having mistresses. The man could not be man enough to 1) propose an expansion in his fortress and 2) ensure he will take care and has the ability to protect the expanded fortress. Instead the western man loots resources out the marriage to take advantage of another man’s home.
Western culture further places wealth before humanity, reason we okay with selling our women and diminishing their dignity. We exposed and appropriate to sex while watching women being sold to us in pornographic imagery. We frowned upon women who revealed too much in public, protecting our progression. Now we throw oppressor made pieces of paper with no real value at our women in strip clubs to praise their continued enslavement. That is a nigga who wants ass though and I understand. I am saying let us want the mind too.
Our black men must start glaring the ignorance and start protecting our women. Let us stop poisoning our women, that does not mean we cannot share a drink. Let us stop selling dreams and just be real with women. Our adaption to western culture has created a cancer of house negroes who find achievement in being chosen by women on the basis of their looks. Growing up I was told, “Indoda intle ngenkomo zayo.” We have replaced a man’s pride- his work, with an image. We using the mirrors we were fooled with, giving nothing tangible that a woman can find true solitude in. These proposed images are now accepted as a man’s offering for survival and our women are dumbed down to accept this faux. Let us reconcile from the disenfranchisement we faced from having to adapt to enslavement. Being separated from our heavens and sent to mines where a western culture was systemically infiltrated to break our homes. We stronger now, we know better. Too many of our homes do not have fathers. Where have the men gone- this is not who we are.
Thank You Nthabiseng Mokhehle