…even after reading Ola Rotimi’s ‘The gods are not to blame,’ I still fail to be convinced that we are absolute tools in the hands of the gods.
But if the story of Kafaya is anything to go by, then it means we’re nothing but pawns in the hands of some unseen gods.
While Kafaya’s family pitied her and said she had no control over her actions and vagina, I had argued with them that her plight was due to unbridled passion. They would have done well to super glue her rampaging vagina. That the thing was clearly out of control and seeking solace and excuse under the influence of some gods is utter rubbish!
Some people see her as not being safe in the hands and presence of men. I see men as not being safe in her presence and hands. The way I see it, her labia starts to heat and swells up at the sight of men. She wouldn’t rest until she had nailed them between her luscious thighs, gripping until they had poured forth their baby forming, germinating and culture incubating holy water.
If everyone of us allows ourselves ‘to go’ whenever sexual pangs hit us and our female core begs to be assuaged by a manly shaft sliding in and ramming home, we would probably end up having kids for different men like Kafaya.
I have always told people that there’s no crime in keeping packs of male and female condoms in wallets and handbags.
No guy/lady can be bigger and stronger than sexual hunger when it hits you between the face. Or is it between the thighs?
Sex is a powerful thing and had been known to vanquish the greatest of pastors, let alone miserable and sinful you and I.
Most people, who had boasted of being principled where sex is concerned, are only boasting because they had not met their match or had not fallen under the wings of sexual chemistry or met a sultry seductress.
What the heck do you think Mr. Devil had repeatedly used to slay holy servants of God? Yes ooo! Sex! And many of them fall under the clutches of the person you had least expected. Somebody who is beneath them.
And so Kafaya ended up having nine babies for nine different men! Can you just beat that?
I was pissed! Anytime I hear such nonsense about women, I get angry.
Kafaya’s younger sister is my friend and I had poured out my anger. We had a disturbing conversation after the lungful screaming arrival of the ninth child.
I had asked Kubura: “What is wrong with your sister? Did any of those men even marry her?”
Kubura apparently was not happy about the babies. And no kidding, who would be happy? Once Kafaya delivers, she abandons the new arrival at home with others and off she goes again, searching for a new sugar coated manhood. Why the family had never bothered to demand the fathers of these kids take up their responsibilities and care for these kids beats me.
Needless to say, Kafaya’s job appears to be to hunt for any available manhood, drag the willing guy to a sack and spread her legs wide open to angle 90 for easy access for the guy to pump, thrust and pour his semen. If the game leads to pregnancy, she delivers the baby and drops it off for her family to begin weaning. I heard that she doesn’t care whether they live or die after their birth. She was so sexually adventurous that she would bang collection of friends.
Kubura sighs: “Our parents had gone to different spiritual homes and Alfa to find out what is wrong with her….”
She paused significantly. It was clear she didn’t want to go on. But I wouldn’t allow her be.
“So what did they find out,” I snapped impatiently.
She took her sweet time. “Everywhere they had gone, it was the same thing they told them.”
Oh come on, what is this? Do I have to drag the gory detail from her?
“Wetin dem talk na?”
“Dem say she no go stop until she don born 12 children for 12 men!”
I almost fainted! Did she just say 12 different Dicks? Pheew!
To be continued.
ebere20@gmail.com.
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