Kementitis: a wilful and indecent urge to grope a female body, through the use of hands or other parts of the body, to feel a momentary burst of sexual high.
Walk through the markets in Nigeria and see Kimentitis in full glare, right in the faces of a multitude who either see no evil or are too distracted to care. Go to A-Line in Ariaria Market and see gropers-in-chief. Go to Alaba. Go to Wuse Market. Sweaty traders, pulling, touching, dragging a young lady, “Aunty look here”, “Sister I get am for shop”, “Aunty come buy market now”, “Sister, na me dey call you now, see am here, see am.” Sometimes, in seeing a deluge of bodies, the readiness to touch the butt and not the hand quickly rises. Young lady is mobbed, and has no idea where the hand or hands are coming from.
Go to Oshodi, Osisioma, or Aba Main Park. Kimentitis kicks into overdrive the moment a scuffle breaks between two females. Bus loaders, conductors, ndi ocho passengers, they make their way to break the fight, except they’re never there to break any fight. They want that quick sexual sensation, to grope, to touch, to feel without permission or decency.
No sooner than a fight breaks out do you see them, arriving, not one after another, but in a group, so they create a towering shield around the melee, and no one sees the groping notoriously taking place behind the human wall. Even when people see what’s happening, no one wants to confront a bunch of thugs for pressing a woman’s breast. Some may even argue the women deserved it for fighting in public. “Who doesn’t know this is all agberos do? Leave matter jare.” The idiocy. They grope the fighting females until the ladies are only concerned about regaining their freedom from the terror of multiple hands.
It is for us to ask why gropers in our midst, in the market, at the motor parks, why are they never afraid that people are watching? Why do they never care that onlookers would find their acts despicable? Culture. We have a cultural problem. We don’t feel the need to defend a woman who isn’t our sister.
For if it were your own sister being groped, whose hands are being dragged about in a market square to come and buy something, as if she has no eyes to see what she wants to buy, if it were personal to us, we would act. We would tell the sick groper, “Cut it! Or you’ll have something pretty strange coming at you.” If it were your own sister, it won’t matter how feeble or weak you are, you will stand up and say “cut that crap!”
So Kemen goes to a show the whole of Africa may probably be watching, with the full gaze of the continent, huddles himself against the rear end of a sleeping woman. As you know, sleeping people don’t give consent. And off he went. He knows he doesn't come from a culture that tells him: Kemen, stop! Ain’t nothing gentleman about groping a female. No. Instead, we have idiots with social media accounts trying to contest Big Brother’s decision. May snakes lick your lips. Ndi uchu!
mitterand okorie
Walk through the markets in Nigeria and see Kimentitis in full glare, right in the faces of a multitude who either see no evil or are too distracted to care. Go to A-Line in Ariaria Market and see gropers-in-chief. Go to Alaba. Go to Wuse Market. Sweaty traders, pulling, touching, dragging a young lady, “Aunty look here”, “Sister I get am for shop”, “Aunty come buy market now”, “Sister, na me dey call you now, see am here, see am.” Sometimes, in seeing a deluge of bodies, the readiness to touch the butt and not the hand quickly rises. Young lady is mobbed, and has no idea where the hand or hands are coming from.
Go to Oshodi, Osisioma, or Aba Main Park. Kimentitis kicks into overdrive the moment a scuffle breaks between two females. Bus loaders, conductors, ndi ocho passengers, they make their way to break the fight, except they’re never there to break any fight. They want that quick sexual sensation, to grope, to touch, to feel without permission or decency.
No sooner than a fight breaks out do you see them, arriving, not one after another, but in a group, so they create a towering shield around the melee, and no one sees the groping notoriously taking place behind the human wall. Even when people see what’s happening, no one wants to confront a bunch of thugs for pressing a woman’s breast. Some may even argue the women deserved it for fighting in public. “Who doesn’t know this is all agberos do? Leave matter jare.” The idiocy. They grope the fighting females until the ladies are only concerned about regaining their freedom from the terror of multiple hands.
It is for us to ask why gropers in our midst, in the market, at the motor parks, why are they never afraid that people are watching? Why do they never care that onlookers would find their acts despicable? Culture. We have a cultural problem. We don’t feel the need to defend a woman who isn’t our sister.
For if it were your own sister being groped, whose hands are being dragged about in a market square to come and buy something, as if she has no eyes to see what she wants to buy, if it were personal to us, we would act. We would tell the sick groper, “Cut it! Or you’ll have something pretty strange coming at you.” If it were your own sister, it won’t matter how feeble or weak you are, you will stand up and say “cut that crap!”
So Kemen goes to a show the whole of Africa may probably be watching, with the full gaze of the continent, huddles himself against the rear end of a sleeping woman. As you know, sleeping people don’t give consent. And off he went. He knows he doesn't come from a culture that tells him: Kemen, stop! Ain’t nothing gentleman about groping a female. No. Instead, we have idiots with social media accounts trying to contest Big Brother’s decision. May snakes lick your lips. Ndi uchu!
mitterand okorie
Comments
Post a Comment