When some men clear their throats, their wives develop symptoms of tuberculosis. Those are men who are neither bullies nor mad dogs. They do not get a kick from kicking their wives around the house.
They do not beat their women just to prove they are men. And their women know when to pull the brakes. So, there are men and there are men. Mad men, wife beaters and men who know how to enforce discipline in their homes.
We’ve heard enough of men who kick their women in the tummy when they are pregnant and those who cause their women to wear D&G ‘bones’ to cover up dark patches on their faces after slapping sessions. We have also heard enough of women who make their husbands so miserable, the poor men lose it and go berserk.
In other words, there are wife beaters, women batterers all over the place and women with vile mouths who don’t know when to duck when they see a flying punch. So, there is no point belabouring the violent point. It is bad to be foul-mouthed and worse to be a wife or woman beater. Is there then a middle road? Of course. Only dumb men don’t know how to discipline their women without raising a fist. Wife beaters should learn from their women. We, the daughters of Eve do not beat men and yet smart men don’t toy with us.
We do not give our men black and blue faces to get them to buy us gold, diamonds, the latest SUV and build us houses. They do all those things nice and easy and we know how to express our gratitude. But men who insist this is a man’s world don’t know jack about making their women do what they want. All brawns, no strategy.
A woman will tell a man to go to hell and the dude is actually going to look forward to the trip. Well, it’s absolutely a woman thing. We were designed by God with that particular element. Poor men, what do they know?
But wait, I found men who know how to get their women to fear and revere them. Their women confessed so. Some men told me how they do it. The lesson in all I learnt is unless you escaped from a psychiatric hospital, there is no reason to beat the woman in your life.
Bimpe is 40 and said her husband simply shuts down all activities at her oil installation. Alfred does not actually freeze his wife’s account when she errs, he simply insists on a proposal and due process for every expense. Like Cross River State Senators, Bayo deploys the hunger strike strategy and Nath makes Bo- la Ige proud with his siddon look approach. Let’s take them one by one.
‘Babe, you know I married in my old age. At 37, I had been around and I do not joke with my sex life. I knew if I was going to keep my pants on, I must marry a man who can hold them in place. My husband may be guilty of all sins and inadequacies but he is all the man I want in bed. The thought of him gets me through a bad day, believe me. He is a long distance runner who is skilful every step of the way. He knows my weakness and he exploits it to the hilt. If I step out of line, he wears a belt with his pyjamas.
He’s got plenty of self-control anyway, so he’s difficult to seduce. When I’m serving penance, that’s when my husband wears what advertises his ‘goods’ in the house- great biceps, firm thighs. He would give me long lingering kisses and that’s it. He’s very fashion conscious and when he’s punishing me, he wears all those things that keep the women ogling him. The total torture is lethal, more lethal than I can put into words. I love him to bits and so, of course, I can’t stand the punishment for more than three days. After that I beg and make sure I do exactly as he pleased. It’s working for our marriage.
My wife knows I’m generous and that is also the weapon I use to whip her in line. Once I start asking for explanation on how the house-keeping allowance is spent, why she can’t travel for summer or why they all have to go to Gambia instead of Spain, she knows it’s not because I’m broke. I refuse to talk about her demands for anything that has to do with money. All aso-ebi for parties are rejected. I ask for special dishes, soups. But no extra kobo comes out of anywhere. We do not run generator all night. The big cars stay in the house because their keys stay in my locked-up wardrobe. Even the children know when things are not right. My attitude is if I’m not happy in my home, everybody joins the unhappy train. Period. It works for me.
If my wife offends me, I refuse her food. I eat outside until she apologises and stops whatever it is that has rubbed me up the wrong way. Sometimes she is angry too and ignores me and my hunger strike. When she does that I step up the strategy by bringing food home, warm it in her microwave while whistling and I eat it on the dining table. That leaves her wondering where the food came from. Oh, to make that angle effective, I do not bring anything that looks like it is from a fast food eatery. I bring real native food like pounded yam and vegetable packed in a beautiful food flask complete with hand towel and bottled water and wine, all in a nice basket. And no matter how tired I am when I get home, I eat my ‘food from outside’ and tell the house help to put the flask back in the car.
I go out a lot when my wife offends me until she returns to her senses. If she calls me while I’m out, I tell her I’d call back later. I never do. If she greets me, I grumble. I stay in my room when I’m in the house. If she feigns illness to get my attention, I call the doctor to come to the house but I make sure I leave before he arrives. I know what hurts her and the silent treatment is the most potent. I’m ordinarily a jovial person. We talk a lot. We are each other’s best friends. We even gossip like two girls. We drink wine on the balcony and swap jokes but when she offends me, I withdraw all that. She is a banker and likes to return home where she can relax. Instead of beating her or shouting, I simply listen to my old school blues and watch wrestling. Otherwise, I’m out with the boys and I let her know.
So, what did we learn folks? There are many ways to kill a cat. Find another whip to beat your wife otherwise you are a certified psycho