I recently came by ‘FemiNazi’ and marveled at what a distasteful word it is. Let’s not even speak of how unintelligent it sounds, but focus on the horrid comparison given to feminists.
It is quite ludicrous that the millennial feminist would be termed as an extremist by the part of our species that started most wars (verbal, physical or otherwise), but I digress. The state of affairs that is cohabitation-putting into consideration the existence of feminism-requires that unless we plan to ship off women to another planet, we must understand them.
The planets must have been aligned when she was born because she is a sight for sore eyes. She fits that Bruno Mars song (the way you are) to a t. I’m talking about that lovely lady you cannot keep your eyes off in the neighborhood. So you daydream about her, constantly referring to her as ‘my wife’ when talking with your friends. One fine morning you decide you have had enough of independent observation without approach, ‘kukula kwa macho’ . So you approach her with the confidence bestowed upon you by your father and his father before him to say a quick hello (with the reverent hope that she would turn dramatically, hair whipping around her asking you ‘Where have you been all my life”, then you will whisk her off into the sunset on a horse named Heraldo). You do so, but all you get in reply is a scoff with a subtle undertone of madharau.
Name calling: the coward’s way
At this point, you are in so much emotional pain; you have locked yourself in a room, as you try to conceptualize,internalize,actualize and realize that in deed you have been turned down. This is where you remember yo have that song, ‘hata sijaskia vibaya’ so you play it on your phone in low volume. All your plans have been foiled; your dreams of singing her that Nyashinski song about angels have gone down the drain. You dislike her with the intensity of the burning sun; in fact you do not even use the side of the road that she uses. So you resort to feeding the rumor mill on the various lies she tells. “She borrowed that wig from her neighbour” you tell your friend when the pangs of her rejection sting again.
Conventionality is not morality
Though he seems to have a solid reason for behaving like backward imp, we need to realize that he had a personal agenda against her. Similarly, chauvinists only excuse for constantly picking on and prodding a feminist lies in his personal agenda against her; she is simply too much. She is too smart, too witty, and too vocal. The world needs more of her.