One of the attractions of Nairobi at night is seeing street children dancing on the streets to the music from the more than 10,000 nightclubs along Moi Avenue. Those kids can really dance.
A fortnight ago, I accompanied a friend on a Wednesday night out. We sat at the balcony of one of the clubs on Moi Avenue and enjoyed watching the kids dance like there was no tomorrow. Then out of nowhere, this young girl, probably 24, joined the kids.
And she started dancing and the kids could not believe their luck.
The girl, with the most flexible waist and a sizable ass nearly killed me. She was wild. I have watched those Jamaican girls dancing like they are powered by a nuclear plant, but they had nothing on this girl.
She held onto parked cars, shaking her ass to the men watching and filming her. She had this short, figure-hugging dress, such that when she bent over and touched the ground, the dress moved over to her back, leaving her bare bottom for us to gawk at. She had nothing underneath.
Her friends tried to get her off the street, but they could not. She must have taken a lethal concoction, and smoked some real bad stuff. That energy was not humanly possible. Did I mention that she was incredibly beautiful, her ratchet behaviour notwithstanding?
To imagine that three years down the line, some clueless 36-year-old guy will pick her up, and turn up for bride price negotiations at her home, left me worried. The father will probably ask for a million bob. The father will not understand her wild past. He will not know that it is the ‘accidental’ pregnancy that slowed her down and saved her life, hence the quick marriage.
The man marrying the girl will get a raw deal. He will be marrying her because she is beautiful, can shake that waist and serve some mind-shattering sex. But she wouldn’t be able to host senior guests in the house, cook ugali wa wimbi or even say a proper prayer for the shoddy meal she would prepare.
We have empowered the girl child, emancipated her from the supposed cultural shackles, but most of them are ending up badly. Very individualistic, so westernised and increasingly getting isolated. They want to party, marry a ready-made man, and never mention any readiness on their part to be wives.
They have this notion that in the postmodern world, women should have it all, as it is in the West (false), but men should still provide, pay the rent, pay bride price, foot the bills for those big weddings and buy them their dream cars, all for nothing. Except may be, a baby.
I think we need to raise our girls differently and teach them about reality. Our young women need to understand that there is nothing wrong with our kids learning our mother tongues, and heritage.
They should understand our attachment to our rural homes and cooperate during Christmas to stay at home for a week, and cook using wet wood! That teargas-like smoke is good for their eyes.
Our women should be taught how to be proud in their hair. These women donning short hair, or natural kinky stuff lately are ten times sexier than those with weaves. They need to spend less time in the salon. A woman who spends 80 per cent of her Saturday, her only free day of the week, in the salon is bound to neglect her husband and kids.
Lastly, we need to train our girls how to respect serious relatives: the ‘backward’ uncle who raised you and visits with smelly shoes or the raucous aunt who raised your mother.
Our young women have become quite snobbish to the people you owe your existence to. I believe that our women can go to school, get jobs and break glass ceilings, but still remain humble, homey and be good wives.
The Western attitude they are adopting will backfire on them, if that hasn’t happened already.