Married But Available

by B. Nyamnjoh

  He proceeds to say what exactly men adore about the women they aspire after as they climb with achievement up the phallocratic order. Several phrases caught Lilly Loveless’s attention, amongst which “the smaller the tighter, the tighter the better”. Hadn’t she read something like this before? She took out the copy of the paper, which she had brought along for Dr Wiseman Lovemore but which she had forgotten completely to give him. No, not exactly forgotten; the strike and Dr Wiseman Lovemore’s arrest and indefinite detention without trial came too soon for her to give him the paper. With the aid of her forefinger, she rapidly skimmed through. She didn’t find those exact words, but she did underline the following paragraph, with intentions of citing it in her writing up:

  ‘In matters of sex, first-rate consumption means going for the juiciest and rarest, which for older men and women entails shopping down the generational ladder (right into paedophilia) for power, status and privilege. For the younger generations, it means shopping up (among sugar daddies, sweat mamas, businessmen and women, whites, tourists and others) for consumer opportunities and consumer citizenship. The current context of acute poverty interlinked with dramatic and luring images of desire and abundance, has accelerated the commoditization of sex in Africa, putting morality and God on hold as money and survival take centre stage.’

  Lilly Loveless went back to the clipping. The author asked: “Why is ‘love’ increasingly available only out of the matrimonial home?” Claiming that was the Million Mim Dollar question, the author says Mbangala Tutu has discovered new and startling motives for an old problem. It has conducted a sample survey, the results of which would be featured regularly and for the rest of the year, starting with the current issue.

  Amongst his first six respondents is a businessman who says: ‘the problem is one of lack of communication between husband and wife, which leads to men rushing out of the house every time there is a quarrel. Some men feel that the only answer to a nagging wife is to look for a concubine, but that is wrong. It only ends up destroying the home. It is better to have dialogue with your wife and point out where you think there is a problem. Solving a problem by running away is only making the problem double or worse.’

  A male teacher blames: ‘the nature of man. Man seeks variety, which is the spice of life. Sleeping with the same woman is regarded as monotonous. In our African society it is not common to have divorce on grounds of sexual dissatisfaction, so men prefer to keep their wives while looking for love outside. It also has to do with natural changes in the constitution of the man and woman. Women age faster than men. While a man at forty or fifty is still entering the prime of youth, many women are on the declining side of age once they turn thirty. So added to other issues like childbirth which ages a woman rapidly and changes her body constitution, men decide to look for younger, more agile girls with firmer bodies to satisfy them.’

  Someone identified simply as ‘a married woman’ situates the problem in the fact that: ‘Men are like children. They want all the toys they can find. They do all that to prove to themselves that they are still young and active whereas they are not. It is a sign of immaturity and irresponsibility too, because we tell them that if it is two wives they want why not marry the one outside and bring home? But you think they can? They just want to play, like little adolescents jumping from one bed to the other.’

  A male medical doctor feels that women are to blame for: ‘thinking that men are natural polygamists, so whether you go out or not, you are guilty. It is a situation of do and be damned, don’t and be damned. I have been married for eight years, but I can tell you that my wife still does not understand me. If I come home late in the evening and decide to take a shower she starts suspecting me and her behaviour changes immediately, whereas I could as well do whatever I want and take a bath before coming home. Some women actually encourage their men to go out.’

  A female sociology student at the University of Mimbo says: ‘the causes are manifold, societal, personal, emotional, etc. First of all, society finds it normal for men to have mistresses. For one thing, a man does not have to fear getting pregnant. The fact that men have money to spend on their mistresses also accounts for this situation. Some men who are henpecked at home love to go out because with their concubines they can play the domineering role which is important to the male psyche.’

  A male civil servant believes that: ‘some men prefer prostitutes because prostitutes are open to them. Some women do not want their husbands to know that they enjoy making love, so they prefer to pretend. They think sex is very wrong and a good housewife should not ask for it. But you need to see them with their boyfriends and you will not believe your eyes.’

  As Lilly Loveless read, she remembered yet another section of the paper, which she underlined and by the side of which she wrote in pencil, “relevant to section on sexual metaphors”. In the passage, a married man, tired of being served ‘potatoes’ several times a night, ventures out to look for an alternative meal, only to be rewarded with pleasure diminished by pain. Tchop Tchop, the comedian who composed the sketch to assist with the fight against HIV/AIDS, uses the imagery of a filling station attendant working at the ‘World Petrol Station,’ servicing vehicles of all shapes, sizes and ages, whose confidence in an innocent looking ‘Mini Minor’ endangers his petrol pump and lands him in trouble. On second thought, Lilly Loveless decided to type the excerpt of the ordeal on her laptop:

  Of all these cars, I chose the smallest, the most attractive, a Mini Minor. And she had just arrived in the filling station. The Mini Minor, even though a little car, its back is uplifted, and it is curved, with a round bottom and a protruding front. When you look at the head of the car, it has small eyes like this, but if you stand back a little, it is swollen, rounded, a cute little car, a car like it just came out of the manufacturers. I could not imagine that people could have cars like that. You could not even imagine a defect in the gas tank of such a car. I said no, it is in this car that I will serve my gas today. Instead of stopping like the other cars, it crosses. Here I am following it. I make a sign. I say, waro, waro, waro. The car stops. I say, do you need gas? Hé hé. A deal is reached.

  Now, I have to fill the tank. We backed up behind Ste Bernadette. I found a good fuel tank. We stopped at a warehouse. I took my petrol pump out. I thought the size of it would this small gas tank, but the Mini Minor widely opened its small reservoir, as if it had been visited by another gas station attendant. I sunk my petrol pump deep without difficulty. It went all the way to the bottom of the gas tank. That is how the gas was freed and reached its objective. I get my petrol pump out and put it away and go home. 24 hours only after that, I try my petrol pump. It was now leaking red gas oil. I ask myself, how? I run away from big trucks for fear of defect, now my petrol pump breaks down in a Mini Minor? What is this? After some 24 hours, the pump leaked only concentrated milk…

  In a footnote at the end of the excerpt, Lilly Loveless added, “I find it hard to reconcile this perceptive and insightful analysis by Dr Wiseman Lovemore with the image of him as an insensitive, unsupportive, male chauvinist pig that comes across from my conversation with Mrs Lovemore. Why should his scholarship and personal life be like night and day? How could he live with the fact that what he studies does not impact on his personal life?”

  Through with her footnote to Dr Wiseman Lovemore’s paper, she turned her attention to A Nose for Money. She devoured it with many a smile curling her lips as the numerous dejà-vus emerged from the narrative. Apart from the graphic depiction of Nyamandem where she had just been, Lilly Loveless often thought: ‘Hey, I believe I know that guy, I’ve seen him somewhere cruising to and fro between Sawang, Puttkamerstown and Sakersbeach.’ And the fateful money doublers, the ministerial pomp, the blinding seduction of wealth and women, and the proverbial disillusionment when confronted with the secrets of wisdom and truth embedded deep inside traditional systems of knowledge. She thought the book was a tough piece at the end yet without meandering off into total frust
ration and ridicule like Joyce Cary’s Mister Johnson who cannot get any further than spending most of his time ‘swimming gaily on the surface of life’!

  Much like some of the stories Britney had gathered for Lilly Loveless, a sad, but yet true aspect of the novel, as pointed out in a review in the The Talking Drum was the novel’s portrayal of women. As the reviewer argued, while a good number of women in Mimboland strive to make a living for themselves and amass whatever they can in terms of wealth, the mindset of the ordinary Mimboland woman is that she cannot do this without the support of some man. For many this has meant living and/or staying on in a marriage that is a sham, like Rose. Rose was not particularly happy that Prospère was never around, but being the traditional Mimboland woman, pretence and faked happiness was the game here.

  Going by the stories Britney collected, for many women in Mimboland, leaving Prospère, like for Rose, would never have been an option. They would rather stay on and seek alternative means of getting their physical and sexual needs satisfied because for them marriage is ‘wealth’ and there is overwhelming social pressure to be married and to stick in there, in sickness or in health, till death does us part.

  Moreover, who knows? Things may suddenly work out, Prospère would become rich and automatically they are made. The likes of Charlotte, Marie-Claire and Chantal are numerous and are found in increasing numbers as evidenced in the seekers after highly placed Mbomas found in some of the stories Britney had collected. These were among the women Lilly Loveless had repeatedly heard never truly care for anyone but themselves – very much like Adapepe, whom she had enjoyed talking with. Like the reviewer pointed out, they idolize their bodies and would do anything to ensure that they stay beautiful, charming and sophisticated, not for themselves in the main, but as bait for men of substance. Naturally, rich and wealthy men – Mbomas – like treasurers, customs officers, ministers, director generals and other highly placed state officials, are their preys and the interest here is mainly in their ‘fat wallets’. Again, because marriage is ultimately seen as wealth for the Mimboland woman, she would keep a boyfriend on the side – informal sector, if you like, with whom she hopes she will eventually settle. Many such women have had to suffer heart breaks as these ‘service-boys’ have played a smart one on them as well.

  Here Lilly Loveless remembered an article in one of the newspapers during her journey out to Mimboland, about a group of young men on the prowl who borrow or rent expensive cars, fancy clothing, watches, imported shoes and hats, who spend huge sums of money and even borrow heavily to make themselves look sophisticated and rich enough to attract high society women whom they pretend to marry. They pretend to be businessmen or have well-paying jobs and university degrees, are almost always clean shaved, and go under the popular name of feymen. Once they’ve lured these women into marriage and are in a position of unlimited access to their wealth or the wealth of their parents, they don’t care whether or not their wives find out the truth about them. And if the wives uncover the truth and want a divorce, they refuse to grant them a divorce until the women or their families agree to part with a huge chunk of their fortune. They may curse and swear, but the husband is immune to moral blackmail, as he feels they are to blame for limiting marriage only to those who can afford it materially. No sooner does he get what he wants than the husband starts all over again, hunting for new prey. These feymen of marriage are very good at concealing their poverty until it is too late for the family to do anything. As the paper noted, the victims are not always women of means. Often, poor women are deceived by their own dreams of a rich groom, only to be turned out on the street to beg for their husbands and eventually for their children.

  Another reality demonstrated in the book and highlighted in many of the cases collected by Britney, is what happens when true love comes along in the midst of deceit, mistrust and disloyalty. True-love is questioned and sacrificed, just as Monique – Prospère’s third wife, but ultimately because it is true, reveals the truth. A truth that leads to the end of deceit and pretence: the death of Prospère.

  Lilly Loveless also enjoyed the sinister rumours surrounding Prospère and his wealth, and thought that she will have to draw a lot from them to strengthen the data on the power of the occult in perceptions of wealth and love in Mimboland. Already, she could see lots of similarities between the stories Mariette had shared with her, and some of the larger than logic happenings in the novel.

  In all, Lilly Loveless could understand why Britney had strongly recommended A Nose for Money, but at the same time, she was happy with her decision to postpone reading until now.

  29

  It is late into the night. Bobinga Iroko is unable to sleep. He is working on the editorial for the next issue of The Talking Drum. He has deliberately refused to carry the story on homosexuality. His priority remains the strike at the University of Mimbo, which, curiously, hasn’t attracted much coverage from the rest of the national press concentrated in Nyamandem and Sawang. He and The Talking Drum, the formidable odds against them notwithstanding, are determined to crusade along like a lone ranger, until victory day. They believe the sun must not be allowed to set on a good idea.

  He is also struggling with an obituary following the sudden death, under very mysterious circumstances, of one of the rare genuine intellectuals at the University of Mimbo. Despised by the authorities as an ‘unbelievably vain, hopelessly incompetent and disestablishmentarian crank,’ and Known popularly as ‘Intellectual Warrior’, Dr BP (‘Burning Pen’) was found dead last night at his home, his skull shattered, his brain and genitals missing. In his transition from Burning Pen to Buried Pen, he looked more like the victim of a ritual murder than of a robbery. Dr BP was not afraid to make career limiting statements, and would rather die than be cowed. He had absolute disdain for those who were neither here nor there in their convictions, those who seemed to say things only to please the way a chameleon would its vicinity. To him, such people were shallow, myopic, spineless irrelevances. A screaming and fearless critic who once described the University of Mimbo as the ‘burial ground for enthusiasm’, Dr BP was writing a commentary titled ‘J’accuse’, when he was smashed to death in midsentence.

  Dr BP died doing what he has always done: fighting to make a difference and making a difference by fighting. To Bobinga Iroko and The Talking Drum, Dr BP died keeping hope alive in a hopeless situation, adding the weight of his pen to efforts to bring back a bit of dignity to the lives of ordinary Mimbolanders stripped bare by shallow pretence, sterile rhetoric and its radical vocabulary of hate. He died fighting the battles he would want those he leaves behind to keep fighting. In a context where many an intellectual has been silenced by the lure and allure of easy virtue and the sterile politics of reckless impunity, BP was the rare exception who stayed wedded to the ideals of the genuine intellectual, academic freedom and social responsibility.

  Bobinga Iroko will always cherish BP’s essays and contributions in the pages of The Talking Drum, which were as clear about what he believed to be wrong with the land of his birth, as they were about what he thought it would take to make right those wrongs. It is therefore unfortunate and indeed ironic that BP should pass on in a suspicious death most cruel, and not those excesses his essays and commentaries were meant to bury. And it is equally unfortunate that he should leave the scene just when he was ready to share with the world in person the richness of his experience of a country and a university community where a reluctant government and those whose intellects it has numbed would spare nothing to derail the train of hope and human dignity.

  BP epitomized those who refuse to stand by and watch the train of hope and human dignity derailed. He stood for those who would rather fight than run away (wasn’t it Bob Marley who said it all – he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day?). BP the flesh and blood may have died, BP the Idea has never been more alive. This can be seen in the determination and resilience by students of the University of Mimbo to keep aglow their ambitions of academi
c freedom and the quest for betterment in equality, dignity and opportunity for all and sundry.

  This, as BP and others who have sacrificed their lives have always claimed, requires a particular calibre of leadership. As BP has stressed ad infinitum, any leader, no matter how good, needs others to compensate for their weaknesses. A good leader is one who encourages others to lead without overly dramatizing the fact of being in charge. He or she is one who surrounds themselves with people of contradictory opinions in order to be forced to think, compare and contrast before reaching a decision.

  The way forward for the University of Mimbo and for Mimboland, BP stressed in what none could have imagined was his last commentary in the pages of The Talking Drum, is by recognizing that leadership is not about the leader. It is about the enabling environment the leader creates for experts in various walks of life and for all and sundry under him or her to offer leadership. A good leader is one who is able to purge him or herself of the delusion that bosses are necessarily better than the people under them. Modesty is the master key to success in leadership, for a good leader immediately recognises that he or she needs support to lead, and that a leader never leads alone. ‘Leadership is more of a privilege than a right, just as a leader is more of a servant than a master’, BP emphasized, adding that only at the University of Mimbo and in Mimboland did the contrary obtain. ‘With leaders who have neither modesty nor generosity of spirit, who thrive on the argument of force and not the force of argument, institutions dry out and wither, not for lack of talent but for lack of purpose.’ Woe betides the leader who takes decisions without consultation, and who excludes from leadership people who have a lot of talent because he or she is too afraid to be contradicted or to discover that no single individual however gifted has a monopoly of good ideas.