Since coming to England, I have almost consistently and almost constantly been approached by African men, Nigerian men in particular.
I want to tell you it’s weird, but you know, I know that I’m the kind of woman in terms of looks, that appeals to the African man. I ain’t going to play and tell you not, or tell you I don’t know what it is, or why.
However, I’ve been quite horrified by the state of my Nigerian brothers in this country. I don’t want to come down on one set of people, but I can only speak for the Nigerian men I’ve met and interacted with.
I am saddened that they know so little about their spiritual inheritance, unimpressed by the materialism and their lack of knowledge, their inability to speak English so I can understand what their saying (but that’s just my need for clear communication being deeply frustrated by mumbling and lack of diction).
Before I came up to England I signed up for a couple of Nigerian dating sites, and proceeded to be deluged by men wanting to connect with me. Except, the messages weren’t really, “Hi I want to get to know you,” although a good many were. No, these were messages that looked like, “I red ur prfile, an ur baeutifull. I want b ur luver man. Call mee.” Followed by their digits.
Others required someone other than me to translate, “I need you! I love you! Hello the most beautify Osun, how are you? Your presence here on NDL is so paramount, yes indeed, it is the totaly blue print of this outlet. Your opulence and wondrous phenomena has attracted my ultimate purpose. I am pleasantly interested in getting to you better. I pray my admiration for you will be conducive for your royal splendor, cause I need you to be my friend. I hope your reply will spontaneously blossom into a favorable form sometime soon. May you have a blissful day. Itallica.”
I’m sitting there reading, thinking to myself, “Heh?”
It’s been weird. Because I’d meet one, wether through the internet or minding my business going about London, and one by one they’d turn me off. So much so, that I can only report two sexual encounters. Allyuh know, if I ain’t commit these encounters to any journal in anything other than a passing references, then my darlings other than to say they were disappointing and unworthy of any detailed documentation.
I don’t know what it is. It isn’t that these brothers are uneducated, some of them have been downright clever. However, a little too clever for their own good, and most definitely for mine.
I couldn’t see anything of myself in them, and you know, I need a man to mirror me at certain levels. I have also been plagued by the, “What does that word mean?” comment enough for me to be like, “I sorry Dada, I going to pass, oui?”
Yet, they keep showing up. The thing that disturbed me the most, is the way they seem incapable of keeping their hands to themselves. They have to touch me, hug me, kiss me all on the first date. Chile, within one minute of the meeting. Before we have had even a proper conversation. “Hey! Personal space. New concept for you, I can see, but you going to have to step off a little.”
Whatever it was, the way they smelt, their hair, their attitudes, the clinging fawning, the inability to understand their English, the loud talking on their mobiles while I sit completely clueless, the OBVIOUS, PAINFULLY OBVIOUS macking… I mean really, they took me for a pretty face and nothing more. A female to fuck and it was completely transparent. They all have been.
Lest you think I feel this way only about the Nigerian brothers, think again. In England, no Black British brothers approached me at all. The only ones that did were African, predominantly Nigerian, but there were a couple of Jamaican brothers, a St. Lucian… all not so latent stalkers, and patently unsuitable.
Even when I didn’t immediately dismiss them and their efforts, after a few forays into either their world, or them into mine, clearly revealed someone who just didn’t have a clue.
There were the ones who declared themselves ‘Christians’ and talked about ‘saving souls for God’, and I immediately went, ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ I have reported a few of these flirtations, but on a level, they’ve made no impact on me, so I have chosen to leave them at that. I resigned myself to near celibacy, while leaving the door open to the right man to come along.
I bought myself a late birthday present, a couple of sex toys and just dealt with my own case. (Buying said toys was an interesting experience in and of itself, and bears reporting, but ultimately I don’t have love thing with sex toys. I always, always want the real thing. Auto erotica is more often purely about physical release, and is more often empty than not. :sigh: Totie darlings, totie is the healing of the Nations.)
I have to rack it up to cultural differences, also to the deeply ingrained issues facing young men of African descent, no matter where they are. I made my intellectual excuses, while rejecting them each as unsuitable for me in seriously commit to.
Certainly, because of both my spiritual and political affiliations, a strong brother is all I am interested in. A strong African man or a strong man of African descent; that’s the man I want in my life. A man strong enough to hold me, to compell me, to match me, to take care of me, to protect me, to help me, to love me unconditionally.Someone who understands my spirituality, is spiritual enough to either accept my spiritual practise or to join me in it or already be there already.
That man was just too elusive to pursue. I had to wait for him to come to me. So I guess that’s what I’ve been doing. What I’ve been doing all my life.
Back in February, when there were a handful of fellas buzzing around, and when I felt like I needed some overall spiritual guidance, I undertook a visit to a competent, reputable babalawo, and incidentally began a domino effect in terms of my personal relationships at the time, and ultimately brought me the events I have detailed in An Ode To HardSlap.
One of the things I went there to see about was about my wish to finally settle down, get married and have some pickney. Divination has helped me to clear my mind about what my future is, but you know, I’m still getting up in the morning alone, going to sleep at night alone.
So what I realise is this, if all I have before me is these brothers completely ignorant of history
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