I have discovered. You see that newborn baby in Pumwani hospital, he is rich like hell. That guy you saw today at the Tuskys Entrance, man, he is rich like nonsense. That man who shoe-shines at the Luthuli street, Khai, he is rich like something else.
Your dad, your uncle, your brothers, your boyfriends, they have all been pretending to be very poor. Today, let me give you a secret, all human beings, as long as they are male in gender, are very rich. So rich that they owe females a lot of money. Because they earned their money by just being men.
This is an address to all ladies that think guys were born with innate bank reserves inside their lifespan. So, if you are a lady, and you think that all guys are shareholders at Wamulembe gold mine, drive a Subaru Legacy, sleep on a money-made mattress with a diamond lining, and have their faces matching the color of the World Bank, welcome on board.
This is for you. If you think that your man owes you a check whenever your spirits feel like carrying a Gucci purse, please stop reading this and start calling him. He is probably consolidating his earnings for today so he can spoil you with Italian eyelashes and a Balenciaga shoe. Oh,and of course he should buy you a Maybach. He hasn’t? He is trash.
So, the last time I checked, men were trash inside trash, bagged in a trash can. Trash gathered in a plastic bag and left to sun bask where houseflies, cockroaches, and raccoons find their surplus. Trash that is worse than a green heap of sewer leaking from the municipal’s sewage systems. How can I say it? I mean trash, a collection of trash heaped together to form a man.
From the tip of their fingernails to the peak of their longest strand of hair. Those are not cells or keratin, it is Trash. They speak trash, love trash, do trash, and live trash because they are trash. So, who are men? The best answer is Trash. They are trash because their chests are bare, no fleshy tissues clothed on them. No biceps hanging from their humorous bones like Johnson the Rock. They are trash because they don’t have beards, their chins are as fleshy as the Watamu sisal. They are trash because they don’t speak like Obama and wear like James Bond.
They are trash of trashes because they don’t have emotions like Pope Francis. Wait, that isn’t even the main reason. Men are trash because their pockets were too shallow to beautify your look, to clothe you with the best clothes, to crown your short poorly-cleaned hair with Mexican wigs, to paint your face with South African colorants. Unlike chlorophyll, men are not the expensive coloring matter, are they? To make the matters worse, men have anti-gravity, the thing that makes them “jump” balls whenever a shot went into the right sides of the goal. How messy is this trash?
So, why can’t you date a broke guy? Because he is trash, or are you? Why am I saying this? Because guys are under pressure to transform their bio cells into money. Whatever little they earn is not used to nurse their blisters; it is used to nurse your gang’s wild spirit of adventure. Treat them on weekends and weekdays as well. Because guys are under so much pressure that they take loans to take this gender out.
We even have comrades in school who have never seen the layout of a payslip with their names. Comrades who receive the same amount of government loans and spend their loan with their girl(s) on lunch and dates and whatever else and then the girl makes away with their loot in the name of My man is not trash.
Even with the same or worse financial capabilities, guys are hiding behind these masks you have made them wear. They can no longer be themselves because of your eyelashes, your nails, your lips, your lunch. Don’t you feel like you are a thief? A thief of identity? A thief of personality?
When you hear this gender talk in low tones at the mutura kiosk, they are discussing the guys who can kutoboka and those that are stingy. What they don’t know is that some of these guys are not even stingy, they just don’t have anything to be stingy for. Or how can you withhold something that you don’t have?
Value. Yes, I know your value but just because you think your physique deserves some extent of value doesn’t mean that the world owes you a coin. Anywho,
Why should a lady who values her feminity ask, beg, demand, or take money from their man for love reasons? If you are confident of your value, you don’t go around manipulating Adam’s gender, inciting them, and luring them in exchange for money.
So what? Dear ladies that think money is the material that fabricated man in the heavens above;
Your value is not an equivalent of what men owe you. They don’t owe you anything. And if you really want to find love in them, you have to stop trashing your mind with the belief that men owe you. A valuable lady knows how to fix her financial matters without pointing her chest or back to men with money. And who am I to tell you? So, continue doing what you best do. But,
Dear Gentlemen, you are trash if you are a coward of your identity. Agree with yourself that you don’t have Mark Z for a father but you can slowly work that out. How long are you going to say, “ I will see what I can do” when you know with the heart you are as poor as a church mouse? You are trash if you can accept your temporal position and work for a permanent solution.
And you couples spoiling each other. Am happy you have found a gemstone in each other. Best wishes from here. Just don’t get fooled to forget that your dreams are not as scam as love can sometimes be. Spoil each other as much as you can. Or how shall we know that your money does not belong to our mothers?
Toxic masculinity says, Money is bisexual, so, go out and find yours.