Why I Haven’t Been On A Proper Date In Ages

Let’s talk about disastrous dates whether first, second or third if you get lucky enough to be asked out on a third date. The ones that make you cringe and wonder why you even agreed to a date in the first place. I’m reminded of my sister’s friend who went out on a date with a guy whom I would like to believe, unintentionally farted at some point. He then proceeded to pretend like he didn’t notice the gross combination smell of cabbage, eggs, beans and whatever foods you might think of, that transform into nuclear weapons of mass destruction, once there is an emission of gas from the body. Needless to say, any forms of attraction toward him from my sister’s friend evaporated that very minute.

I have had my fair share of bad dates, barely there dates and good dates. There are men I met who were chivalrous enough to take me out on proper dates to really nice restaurants. There were also men I met whose idea of a date was, a pretence of requesting I pay them a visit in their homes, in the hopes of getting some from me that night. And they were clueless enough to think that I would believe the visit would be entirely innocent and would only comprise of a dinner and singing of religious hymns before I got escorted back home. There are also men, who for some reason decided to take me out on what looked like a proper date at first in a nice place or setting, only to proceed to behave in the most neanderthal of ways.

I once went out on a date with a guy I really fancied, who decided to spend the entire period, stealing open, obvious glances at an Ethiopian girl’s back in a bare back top. To make matters worse, with the most silliest of grins on his face, he proceeded to mention that he thought the people sitting on the table where the Ethiopian girl was, were students. Now when you take me out on a date and I have spent hours getting ready for you, including doing my toenails in the most luscious of purple color, then you proceed to ogle at another woman, I will be thoroughly pissed. Even more pissed when you decide to trivialize your bad manners. Since when did university students become tourist attractions to be stared at?!

Bored couple on a date. Courtesy of Google Images.

Bored couple on a date. Courtesy of Google Images.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I can barely remember the last time I went on a proper date. It has been a lengthy period of time. Some years, I’m totally sure of that. Of course in that duration, I have been invited out for drinks, dinners or lunches by people, who thought it would be lonely enough to have a meal or drink by themselves and I equally thought, having restaurant meals and drinks once in a while broke the monotony of me sitting by myself, in the house. But I wouldn’t qualify them to be dates because there was no mutual attraction and we were probably feeding the need of having someone else’s company. We were just but two lonely individuals wondering why the odds were always against us in this oh, so cruel, cruel dating world. Trust me, there are many lonely millenials walking around.

Most of the time I have declined random suggestions that were packaged as dates but came at odd hours of the evening or night. Plus I have experienced lengthy periods of time when I have been out of work and therefore, too broke to even think of agreeing to go out on a date. Reason being, that an increasing number of men nowadays assume that you come for a date with your own fare back home. And if you seem like you never carried extra money, then it would be easier to accompany their sly selves back to their houses. So even if I desperately wanted to be asked out on a date, the thought of being broke scared the wits out of me.

Let me emphasize on this, being asked out on a date in a pub or club or to a man’s house or to accompany him and his football loving friends are in reality not dates. So to avoid tainting my image as the girl who is always available and down for whatever shenanigans thrown her way, I have steered clear of dates for a long, long time. Chivalry is pretty much dead in this generation of millenials who have a wide array of booty calls at their disposal. It’s simply the sad reality of how things are. Plus I’m just tempted to think that people are too broke nowadays, with too many needs to even remember how proper dates are supposed to be conducted. Or we simply became too lazy and selfish.

So to save myself the horror of a disastrous date, I would rather let it pass. Which disastrous dates have you ever been on?

The Things I Hate About The Monthly Period

Image sourced from Face2face Africa

Image sourced from Face2face Africa

When the ladies from Always started coming to our school back in primary school, I knew they had seen the need to educate us 10 year old girls about menstruation. My mum had mentioned a few things in passing to me before. But the Always ladies had a lot to tell us about the period, how to use the sanitary pads and how to use the sanitary buckets for disposal and for once, the boys were not allowed in our talks.

In a way, it made us feel important having people coming to exclusively talk to the girls at school. Little did we understand then, about the real horrors of the monthly period because 3/4 of us hadn’t started having them. Recently, one of the bloggers I follow, girlwiththafro, decided to talk about the period and I couldn’t help get amused for I could so relate.

Other than being reminded monthly why I’m a female, there are things I really hate about the period. So here goes;

1. Period Cramps

I’m one of those unlucky women who cramp like they are giving birth on most monthly periods. I don’t usually walk around with a grimace on my face on those days, but I kind of grimace inwardly each time I’m hurting. I’ve had my cramp moments that unintentionally drew attention to the people around me or made me lose things.

One time in high school, I was cramping like they had been paid to torture me and I had to put a straight face and get through the day, even though I just felt like lying down and doing nothing. I had a set book with me that day. The ones you read and are supposed to decipher hidden meanings that will be examined in your English literature exam. Those books were hot cakes back then and got stolen at any given careless moment. In my turmoil, I stood up from the dining hall table and left the book lying there in full view of merciless thieves. And that’s how I lost the book and had to pay for it after high school.

Another cramp moment happened one really cold July morning. So I’m tossing and turning in bed and a male cousin of mine, walked in and asked with concern written all over his face if I was okay. Of course I wasn’t and I had to tell him why. The horrified look on his face clearly said how much he thanked the gods for being born a boy. And he was understanding enough to send a female friend of his to the chemist to get me painkillers. Thank God for family.

On a Sunday when I wouldn’t let anything get in my way of experiencing the Holy Spirit including the godamn cramps I was having, I literally dragged myself to church. Only to end up sitting through most of the service and wondering why I even showed up in the first place. As soon as service was done, I perservered till I got to town and walked right into the first chemist I saw.

On most of those days, it’s usually a guy who serves you coincidentally and when you ask for Buscopan plus tabs, they just know what’s really up with you. But I must commend these chemist male employees for being so kind and understanding and inquiring if you need water to take the tabs. Of course yes, you need water to rid yourself off these pains!!!

2. Sleeping at night

Forget that Always advert when the lady turns in bed in silky white pyjamas and wakes up like an angel, yawning like she has just been cast in a princess movie. We don’t sleep like that on those days!!! You might be wearing the longest, absorbent, breathable pad in this world with additional reinforcements, but you will still be cautious at night. You will end up sleeping on one side till morning and have to wake up in the middle of the night just to check yourself or possibly change a pad. Those days are when you don’t even want to be sharing a bed with a man.

Your girlfriends who know you are on your Ps and have just received a sleepover invite from a boyfriend will probably gasp, “Are you going to a guy’s house on your Ps??!!” They are not jealous. They simply understand the struggle too well and the horror of staining someone else’s sheets and especially a man’s, with an elaborate, red robot pattern.

3. Mood Swings

Ever wondered why you seem to hate everybody around you and make additional enemies during your monthly period? Mood Swings!! Those are the days you will literally be snarling at your boss in your heart (because you value your job and your face cannot allow you to snarl openly at him/her) and wondering when it will get to 5 o’clock and you can go home and break some cups and plates to vent.

For some reason, those existing problems you had that you had decided to face with optimism will seem literally magnified on those days. Please do not make rush decisions in this state! It’s just the hormones acting up and the period. It shall pass.

Of course we really hate men asking if it’s that time of the month when we are fussing over petty issues and throwing an epic tantrum, but sometimes, it’s really it. But we are women. We are supposed to know how to handle this, without someone having to remind us how entirely powerless we are with controlling the mood swings, at this time.

4. Not trusting white bottoms and dresses

I never trust any white bottoms or dresses at this time even if Jennifer Lopez’s stylist insisted. What if something leaks? What if I’m strutting around unknowingly, with an obvious red patch on my behind. No, no. No White.

One of my female cousins saw a woman in white bottoms, bent over mtumba (second hand clothes) on a crowded street in town with a small telltale red dot on her bottom. Needless to say, she didn’t even know how to tell the woman without causing her untold embarrassment. I mean, where do you hide in such a situation?

I saw enough girls get laughed and snickered at by both boys and girls in school, when they stained their school tunics on their very first period, to even effectively explain the kind of embarrassment, a grown woman can feel for staining her clothes. Thank God, my very first started at home. And so painfully, my cousin chose to keep quiet.

So, what do you personally hate about the monthly period? Share below.

The Desperation Of A Job Seeking Kenyan Is All Too Real

So you are a young Kenyan of about 25, 26,27 years of age. You’ve just graduated from campus perhaps with a 1st class honors in a degree course, everyone told you was marketable back then when you were campus hunting. Or probably your parents could not afford the degree courses fee and opted to enroll you in a college to pursue a diploma or certificate course.

Or maybe you are that young Kenyan who falls in the category of campus or college dropout. Financial constraints often being the reason for your dropping out. Or in certain circumstances, you just didn’t feel your heart was there and chose to pursue your God given talents. Either way, you are still a 25, 26, 27 year old Kenyan who may just be, currently job seeking.

Image Courtesy of Job Finder

Image Courtesy of Job Finder

It’s a cruel world out here for job seekers, so you will quickly discover. Your parents or guardians who had previously catered for your pocket money needs, will probably cease giving you any money. Their argument often bordering on the fact that you are living and eating at home so you are comfortable and do not need extra cash.

They may not be out to spite you, but it will soon start feeling like it’s spiteful, when you realize that you have to actually explain what that 500 shs you are asking them to lend you, is for. And when you really want to buy something that is really important to you, but you just don’t have enough money for it, you will truly learn the essence of humbling thyself.

Thinking about student loans that need to start being cleared, will only give you ulcers. This is the time, you will begin to value being single, just to avoid extra stress from nagging boyfriends and girlfriends. Who wants to die early?

As you patiently (or impatiently) await any response from the various organisations you have applied for job vacancies, there will come offers from concerned relatives to take up that promotion job. The one where you have to wear that branded T-shirt and stand in supermarket allies, convincing unconcerned shoppers to try this new soap and get a toothbrush for free.

With your first class honors in a serious degree course, you will wonder silently, whether this relative is simply making fun of your unemployed situation by suggesting such or if they are the ones behind your downfall. Fret not, this is one of the realities you are going to face when you are right in the middle of your job seeking journey. Coupled with the regret mails that you will occasionally get, you might start wondering whether that generational curse thing was actually real.

At a time when most 25,26,27 year olds are actively job seeking with not much success, suggestions to attend primary, high school and what not reunions will start coming up in WhatsApp groups, where you have mostly been a silent follower. Judging from the Instagram and Facebook pics you have been seeing of your peers, you will start to believe that probably you are at the lowest of the success tier.

Your inferiority complex will go into overdrive and you may feign an excuse of working on the said reunion date just to avoid showing up. In reality, you will spend the entire day watching a repeat of the Being Mary Jane series you bought last year, with that annoying lump in your throat literally choking the breath out of you.

When the impatience gets the better of you, you will resort to hand dropping hard copies of your CV and testimonials, in those organisations where you think your kind of qualifications are needed. There you will encounter menacing security guards, who will intimidate you with meaningless interrogations, of your intentions to access the reception area. You will end up feeling like a criminal rather than a law abiding, job seeking citizen.

Finally, they might end up denying you access and have you unwillingly, leave your documents with them all the while knowing that, the documents may never land at the reception or HR office. The complete work of the devil, you will be tempted to conclude.

As you traverse the city or town in your job seeking efforts, you may probably encounter Network Marketers. These ones target the hapless job seekers with claims of making big bucks in a month’s period. By now the desperation is all too real for you and you may lack the energy to resist such kinds of business opportunities’ tutorials.

Google Images

Google Images

Your eyes probably too big to hide your anticipation for better days, they will let it drop how last month they had flown out of the country all charges paid, as an incentive by the Network Marketing company they are in. By now, they can actually see you salivating for the luxurious lifestyle. So they will proceed to let you know that with your qualifications and attributes, you can become a millionaire in a year’s period.

As you break into a wide grin that can barely be hidden and actually feels dumb, they will carry on telling you how you will never need to be under anyone and that you are now your own boss. By the time they get to the flexible working hours, judging by how much it is a struggle for you to get up in the morning, you are completely sold.

You will find yourself attending business opportunity trainings only to realize that in your unemployed state, you can barely afford the exorbitant cost of the starter kit. Asking a friend to lend you the money is inconceivable. Asking your parent or guardian to help you with the starter kit fee is even worse. So you will eventually resign yourself to your job seeking fate.

Eventually, the job interviews will start coming, one after the other. You may face stone faced panels that are not easily convinced and end up blabbering incomprehensible answers to their questions in your nervous state. They may right you off for being unsure of your credentials. The stab of rejection will cause you to self train yourself on your communication skills. You will then realize that with each passing interview, you are getting better and better.

The job hunting journey might as well be coming to an end.

What Do Exes Represent In Our Life And Should We Contact Them?

I have been thinking off late about the role our exes play in our lives. What purpose do they serve? Do they represent a time in our lives when we didn’t know better and just picked up the first human in a trouser or skirt to date? Will we ever get over the negative feelings triggered by the break up? Can exes be friends?

Quite recently I reached out to an ex I hadn’t spoken to or seen in years. He just crossed my mind and I was like, well, it wouldn’t hurt finding out how he has been. When we dated we were teenagers. Children. We broke up childishly and life simply happened. Each of us went our own way and never got to bump into each other again. So we did meet up after I reached out. He was courteous, I was courteous.

However, I reached out to an ex at a time when I haven’t been in a serious relationship for over two years. I think this is the most honest I’ve been in this blog. We don’t usually like to air to all and sundry how f****d up our love lives are. Not that I’m implying mine is f****d up. It’s simply not where I would want it to be at the moment and probably, my contacting a blast from the past could be related to this fact, which I admit begrudgingly.


Needless to say, in a moment of that shitty feeling you get,when you start to wonder what your role in the universe is and if you are doomed to sift through millions of frogs to find that prince charming, I ended up ranting to this ex about my issues. Bad idea! I know! Roll your eyes all you want! Castigate me if you can! It happened and I can’t take it back and he was gracious enough to listen. But I’m so embarrassed by it!

I probably shouldn’t have contacted him. I probably shouldn’t have ranted my head off about how I felt the universe was against me and what I thought wasn’t going right in my life. I should have switched off that phone and thrown it into the fire if possible. I should have walked into an eat out place( probably KFC where they sell chicken in buckets and Kenyans are starting to get scared of the junk bingeing culture being promoted) and just bought a bucketful of chicken and chips, sat in a corner by myself and gobbled down my issues with each biteful.

Then I would have walked out of that place with my head held high, thankful that KFC finally made it to Kenya, with my dignity intact and headed home feeling like I had just conquered the biggest mountain. But instead I contacted an ex. Someone I have not seen in years( until this month). Someone I sort of drifted from. How pathetic does this singlehood get?

And so as I recover from this shameful incident, I’m currently scrutinizing my dating life. I have since come to a conclusion that every ex serves their purpose and how you choose to break up will determine whether you end up feeling like, you need closure from them in future or you are totally done with that chapter of your life. If you can’t trust not making a fool of yourself, simply don’t contact an ex.

Was I looking for some form of confirmation, that prince charmings still exist and I should probably hold on a little longer in my quest of finding true love, by contacting this ex? Did I have some form of hope that he might still be the least bit interested? We all know that ego boost we get when an ex still seems hang up on us. And how that ego deflates the minute we realize that they are so over us.



Behold, A Kenyan Christmas!

As is Kenyan tradition, many of us will travel upcountry or to smaller hometowns for Christmas. The upper middle class who consider themselves lovers of travel with disposable income, will however head to the coast or to an exotic hotel somewhere in the middle of the wilderness teeming with wildlife and have themselves a wonderful, drama-free Christmas surrounded by a spouse or partner and/or children.

Photo credits: Internet Sources

Photo credits: Internet Sources

For the rest of us headed upcountry or to smaller hometowns this Christmas season, here’s what to expect;

1. An Overflowing House.

A house that once consisted of ageing parents, will soon be transformed into a house teeming with humanity. All the grown children will decide to come home for christmas together with their offspring and hapless spouses, who lacked believable excuses to remain behind. Children from the city will suddenly whip out tablets laden with downloaded games, to which the neighborhood children or children belonging to cousins who never left the locality, will gawk at in awe as these “enlightened” city borns tap away with such dexterity.

Granny will suddenly want to brag introduce her successful children to her church women friends. They will always seem to come trooping in every single evening and struggle woefully to pronounce the city names of the little ones. Names like Tamara, Chantel, Kian, Jason…will prove such a huge task to grasp for these church mamas who are more conversant with the missionary names, Margaret, Jane, Lucy and the likes.

For the hapless spouse, they will only have to endure the inconvinience of a houseful with a most believable smile plastered on their faces, all the while vowing silently to skip next Christmas’ journey to their in-laws.

2. Sharing beds.

Most of the time, the youngest of the adult children who is not yet married and probably still in campus, will be requested to share beds with the children who sleep the worst. Just to appear polite, he or she will probably agree all the while knowing that texting away in the cover of darkness will soon be proven extinct, by these young ones who sleep as if they are in the middle of a swimming lesson.

Mornings will be terrible as waking up with aching and tired muscles and stiff necks from all that kicking and turning of the new bed occupants during night time, will be the order of the day. Plus they risk being dumped by that hot chic or guy who probably has started assuming they are cheating, that’s why they nowadays do not seem to keep up with night time texts.

3. Never ending chores.

With the daily influx of visitors coupled with the increased population in the house, chores will appear to stretch the entire day. The hapless spouse who can whip up some tasty chapatis will automatically be expected to cook two bundles of chapatis come Christmas day.

She will most definitely spend the whole day in the kitchen wrapped in a lesso while sitting on a low stool, cooking chapatis for everyone else in the house. When done, she will probably have a splitting headache from sitting too close to the carbon monoxide laden jiko and lacking in appetite, as the smell of cooking chapatis has bloated her tummy already.

Again there will be utensils to wash, a kitchen to clear, diapers to change for the toddlers who have eaten too much for their little stomachs to handle and tea to make for the older generation. By the time Christmas season is done, many who did the house chores will feel as if they had been to a bootcamp rather than a holiday.

4. Family drama.

Of course there’s that brother or cousin who never made anything of himself and has since decided the world must be against him. Or that sister who started giving birth in class 7 and over 20 years later has 5 children, with 5 different men and is married to a jerk, who beats the daylights out of her.

Those ones will decide to settle scores over Christmas lunch with relatives from the city they think abandoned them at their most vulnerable. The sister will start with sarcastic remarks aimed at a sister, who is probably doing well which will eventually escalate into a bitter exchange of words. The brother will visit the chang’aa den, add some weed to it and decide to smash the windows of another brother’s car. Chaos will erupt. Some will fight, some will cry, some will start packing up in a bid to return back to the city where they came from…

In the end, the elderly man of the house will bring order by threatening to curse anyone who misbehaves and reminding everyone, that they are related by blood incase they had forgotten. Christmas will still be celebrated and grandparents will be happy to see their children and grandchildren and to receive gifts from those who came home for the holidays.


For everyone else celebrating Christmas across the world, I wish you a Merry Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The Iconic Safari Boot: Did Your Dad Own A Pair?

Mine did! And I’m not at all ashamed to proclaim that he owned several pairs back then, when safari boots were the in thing for ordinary Kenyans. Just kept replacing them as they aged. But the nature of his job required him to have long lasting shoes. Boy, was he a frequenter of farms! The safari boot served him well. It’s a hardy pair of shoe.

One time, we left our shoes outside on the doorstep as was our usual routine and my father’s safari boots just disappeared! It was so funny because none of us heard a thing and it was around lunch hour. We highly suspected our neighbors though and our suspicion was proven right when a couple of days later, the neighbor’s son emerged in a pair of freshly, dyed, black safari boots.

But you see, the thing with suspicion is that you can’t really confront the person you suspect lest you end up making a fool of yourself. Trust me, this realization was a hard pill for us to swallow. Interestingly, it didn’t seem to bother my father much. He just got another pair as was his habit.

Nowadays, Kenyan men donning safari boots are considered shady. I mean with all the different types of modern shoes in the market for men, why in the world would an urban Kenyan man decide to get a pair of safari boots?!

Of course if you are a male foreign or domestic tourist or modelling safari wear or a tour guide, you can be excused for donning a pair. It works especially well for the tour guides who pair the boots with khaki trousers or shorts. Not so, for the clueless ones who decide to do official trousers with safari boots.

Love to hate them, safari boots remain a Kenyan identity with the Swahili word “safari” loosely translated to mean “journey” in English. So of course if you are a foreign tourist keen on visiting our game parks, be sure to dash into a Bata shop to get yourself a nice pair of safari boots before you embark on your game drive.

I like how describe the shoe;

Made of the finest cowhide, this shoe is a favorite because it evokes the savannas of Kenya. The boot’s rough finish not only feels genuine but also fits “just right”.

Constructed to withstand rugged terrains while providing walking comfort, the safari boot is also easy to clean regardless of the road travelled.

Appreciated for its superior quality, the safari boot is still hand stitched at the Bata factory in Limuru, Kenya and this attention to detail gives the shoe an attractive authentic look that many brands have attempted to imitate.

So there you have it! Did daddy have one of these?


The Innocence Of Children

I accidentally got to eavesdrop on a conversation between my neighbor and his daughter sometime this week.

Daughter goes something like, “Daddy si utaenda kwa bank utoe pesa ya trip!”

(Daddy, you shall have to go to the bank and withdraw money for the trip).

I gathered there was an already planned educational trip at school and this child was definitely eager to go.

An obviously amused dad went, “Alafu nikienda kwa bank?”

(Then what happens when I go to the bank?)

“Ah, si utawaambia tu wakupee pesa alafu waandike hapo trip. Hawatakataa. Alafu utapea teacher!”The daughter reasoned.

(Ah, you will tell them to give you the money then they note down ‘trip’. They won’t decline. Then you give the teacher!)

From that small bit of conversation I overheard, I came to several conclusions;

  1. This little girl assumed her daddy had so much money which could be withdrawn at anytime from the bank. So playing the “I’m broke” card was definitely not going to work for him. He just had to pay for the school trip whether he had the money or not judging from the finality in his daughter’s voice.
  2. For this little girl, her daddy was obviously her knight in shining armor who could grant her anything in the world. Check.
  3. Children can be so humorously innocent in the way they reason at times. Especially the part where she says the bank should note down “trip” as the purpose of the money withdrawn. I mean for children things can be so easy. Not so for us adults!

Anyways, hope she does get to go for the trip. I know daddy wouldn’t dream of letting her down now, would he?


Exes And Their S***t

There are quite a number of reasons why most women hate loathe their exes.

Exes are the kind of people who show up when you least expect and thought you were long over them. Then they elicit all forms of negative feelings because you realize that you are still so damn angry with them, yet relationship blogs state that the reason why you react with anger toward an ex, is because you still harbor a soft spot for them.

Let’s face it guys, exes remind you of your stupidity levels. You question your sanity in choosing such a man or woman to date. They almost, always appear so ugly when you see them after some months of total absence from your life. Probably, you are still vengeful as a result of what they did to warrant the break up. Assuming they are the ones who f***d it all up in the first place.


In other scenarios, they look oh, so handsome or beautiful if you happened to be the dumpee and them, the dumper. Trust me, it hurts like hell, when you realize that your ex has moved on yet you can’t seem to find a worthy replacement of him or her. Almost like you are doomed to Singleville and to constantly remember the good times you shared. It’s even more worse, if you broke up amicably so you are left there with a dumb plastic smile on your face, when h/she tells you about a new woman or man h/she is seeing.

Your well wishing words do not even sound authentic to your own ears but you utter them anyway, just to seem really mature with how you are handling the “amicable” breakup. All the while wishing that the new man or woman in the picture goofs up really bad, to the point of being relegated to the backseat of this so called wonderful, brand new relationship.

Ever walked on a street and you suddenly smelled your ex’s scent? Then you turn in anticipation expecting to see him or her, only to realize that some people have similar natural body scents or are probably, using the same perfume or cologne that your ex used. Classic case of hallucination. But what if it was really them? How would you have reacted? Rushed into their arms? Hallucination + Psychosis.


Funny quotes about boyfriends exes.

Women cry over break ups. When we were younger, our friends and some close family members knew about it. They may have even offered a shoulder to lean on and some advice we hardly ever took, judging by how much, we still entertained the possibility of a rekindled relationship. When we grow older, past the early twenties mark, crying openly over a break up sounds dumb so we still cry, but make sure to conceal it perfectly.

All the more reason to hate loathe an ex because they make you act all shifty, as if you are hiding a crime made entirely worse, by other women friends pretending to be so in control of themselves that they developed selective amnesia, over the last time they shed tears for a man. Then they preach “suck it up, woman!” yet deep down you know, it’s never easy breaking off a relationship with someone else, the getting-over-it phase and then back to the dating scene again.

How green with envy you get, when you see other women with loving men in their lives and how oblivious they seem, to your dating predicaments when you get close to sharing. You wonder why you even trusted them in the first place. Dear woman, you are probably on your own during your break up phase if all the advice of “he’s not worth it” and “you are pretty, you’ll get someone soon” is anything to go by. Grieving over a failed relationship is a complete MUST whether your ex was from Pluto, with strange habits or from Earth, with equally the strangest habits.

So since our exes are so loathable, if there is such an English word even, it’s only fair that we grin devilishly, if by any chance we get a surprise call from them, after so many months of “you are no longer lovable to me so i’ll keep off” from their end. The decision to pick the call or not is up to you and so is the decision to reply to the classic, “hi?”  text. As for friendships with exes, I simply think it comes with its own bagful of challenges. There is a reason why ax and ex sound almost similar. Axing the ex for good is a better option for me.


With sarcasm and dark humor from Proudly Feminist.

Celebrating Proudly Feminist’s 3rd Month Anniversary!

So my blog has just hit the 3 month mark. Aint I proud??

To celebrate my blog’s 3rd month anniversary, I decided to pick a few of the search terms from my blog summary, that of course land readers to certain posts here and with a light touch:

Ethiopian girls sex

Ethiopian women sex

Ethiopian man sex


Now either this particular reader is a porn addict, obsessed with sex from Ethiopia or my blog is full of sex 😛

I keep getting these particular related search terms on my blog’s stats page which left me kinda horrified, the first time, baffled the second, then amused at all the bad English used to type something similar to the above, afterward.

Hahaha, dear man or woman, who is desperately in need of such information, you will get the tag Sex, yes, on Proudly Feminist but not specifically Ethiopian sex material. I would suggest you consult on other similar related sites, lol!

Nigeria black girls on tight mini skirts

Hilarious! Just hilarious, whatever people search on the Internet. If such a term can land a reader on my blog, then I guess i’m a versatile blogger 😀

Supporting wife career choice maternity

Phew, at least I would like to believe that this is a concerned hubby. Serves to prove that it’s not all about sex in here.


As for all my sober minded readers who’ve been reading, liking, following and commenting, a big thank you to all of you!

Proudly Feminist continues….