Category Archives: Marriage

Governor Adams Oshiomhole Must be the *Nicest* Man in Africa

Last week, Marshall and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. *Confetti…yay!*

As we sat down to dinner, I casually opened my Facebook app (a habit of mine he has long hated, but has grown accustomed to) and saw that another couple in Africa had just tied the knot within days of our anniversary. That couple comprised of Edo State Governor, Adams Oshiomhole and Lara Fortes. Iara Fortes is (or was) an airline hostess. There are media reports that she is a model as well – but this is Africa we’re talking. Every light skinned woman above the height of 5 feet is a “model”. Iara Fortes needs to be proud of her position of a sky hostess and stop this attempt to disguise her true talents. If you are awesome at bringing businessmen ice water in first class, own it!

Although Marshall hates that I spend so much time on my phone during the precious few hours we generally have together, he can’t deny that I generally find interesting items to discuss and dissect. The marriage of Governor Oshiomhole and Ms. Fortes was definitely worth dissection.

Reaction to the union on social media has been pretty predictable. Obviously – according to the Twitteratti and Facebook Kids – Iara Fortes was marrying the good governor for money. That’s the only reason pretty girls/women marry dudes that look like this, right? Because he’s wealthy? No, please. That explanation did not sit well with either of us.


Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson is single and wealthy.

Idris Elba is single and wealthy.

Several footballers on several African teams are single and wealthy.

There was no reason for Iara Fortes to merge her body and soul with this man for the mere benefit of wealth…not when there are so many superior looking and equally wealthy men on God’s green planet. It’s not as if she wouldn’t have the opportunity to meet these men. As I said before, her job was to bring chips and ice water to business and first class customers in the sky! We surmised that something deeper was at play. This was a puzzle that needed solving, and my husband and I (okay, just *EYE*) am proud of what we came up with for possible reasons to make sense of this marriage:

Juju was at work

Nigerian men are not above using juju to get what they want…at least in films. The dark arts are employed to acquire wealth, revenge, super human strength. But when it comes to matters of the heart, the stereotype is that it is usually women who turn to magic to capture the affections of a desired mate.

I don’t think Iara Fortes used juju, but it would not surprise me if the governor sprinkled some ground chicken bones in her Coke and whispered incantations over her in her sleep to ensure that this union took place. I mean, ah. Look at the way he has gripped her hand to put on the ring. What woman allows herself to be manhandled in this way without protesting? He is manhandling her in public…imagine how he will treat her away from the gaze and clicks of cameras!


The Governor was a rebound

It is a known and proven fact that good looking men – and especially men who know/are convinced that they are good looking – treat women like crap. They know that they can, because even if you leave, there will be another woman in the wings waiting for her turn to be treated like garbage. As for this one, I have experienced it myself. It’s ridiculous. There is no explanation for it!

My theory is that the good governor swooped in at the right time and saw that Iara Fortes had some sadness behind her eyes. He offered her some kindly (and fatherly) words, offered her his card, told her to call him anytime she wanted to talk and BOOM! Before she knew it, she was saying “I Do”. He hit her with that ‘nice guy’ act and she was powerless to resist.  This leads into Marshall’s theory which is…


Iara’s Right Brain Beat the Left into Submission

The right side of the brain controls emotion. It recognizes faces, controls creativity and is associated with intuition. The left side of the brain controls logic, critical thinking and reasoning. When a person is “in love”, your brain is in a virtual fog. It emits neurotransmitters into your bloodstream that produce a feeling of euphoria whenever you think about object of your desire or are in his/her presence.

Marshall thinks Iara is thinking (or not) with her right brain, and when that left kicks in, she’s gonna be like “Awww shucks…I’m stuck now.”


She’s trying to spite her parents

Look at the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Fortes. Do they look happy to you? The mother didn’t even bother to do her hair properly to witness the wedding. It looks like they had just come back from lunch at the Golden Corral and were like “Well, I guess we better head over to Lara’s wedding. Did you bring the vodka? I’m going to need it to get through this day.”


We’re all being catfished

No. Seriously. Is this a joke?


Supporters of the marriage have come out en force to enquire why so many people are in arms about the union. If Iara Fortes is marrying Governor O, why does it concern you? Is it your marrying?

“No!” say their detractors, “but it is our taxes!”

African politics and social norms will never cease to amuse and amaze. I don’t care about the money. History is full of advantageous and powerful marriages that have shaped our reality today… but this one, I can’t understand.  I care deeply about unlocking this code. I want to understand.


What do you think? When Marshall and I first got married, many people thought we were oddly matched and couldn’t make sense of our relationship either. Do you think these crazy kids have a chance? Is she in it for the money? Is he in it for her body? Discuss!


Confession: I Have A Thing For Pale, Frail White Men

Interracial dating and marriage can be a very tricky thing, depending on your geographic location. My sister went to California a few years ago with her Black American boyfriend and came back to report that they were the oddest couple in whatever city she was in. (I forget.) NO ONE was dating anyone of the same race. In Ohio, every third person is of some sort of mixed heritage. With a few exceptions and further south, however, we all pretty much stick to our “own kind”. We still have yet to truly heal the wounds of slavery and Jim Crow, and up until just recently, one of the WORST things you could do was date outside of your race. Nevertheless, this doesn’t stop a sistah from looking, does it?

Please, I beg you. I am very happily married to my husband and my eye is not wandering with the intention of picking up a side piece. I am merely here to confess to you that there are certain aesthetics in the opposite (and white) sex that I appreciate…those aesthetics being the appearance of needing a hot meal or six and a big bossomy hug. Yes folks: I find pale hungry looking white men attractive, and if I had been braver, I would have sought one to bring home to introduce to my parents. However after my mother go completely ape on my brother for taking the Russian girl as his date to his prom, I knew she would pull a full on Lady Galadriel if I showed up with a fiancé named Brad. Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop a sistah from looking, does it?


Black men got over the hurdle of interracial dating a long time ago and have gone full throttle in their pursuit of lighter/whiter skinned women. Popular culture made this shift easier for the brothers to navigate as well and 20 years or so ago, this was a cause for distress for Black women, myself being one of them. As time has passed though, Black women really couldn’t care less whom Black men date/marry. In the 1980s and 90s, watching a Black man open doors and dine white women felt like a slap in the face, but I assure you it doesn’t sting nearly as much now. It’s just one of those things that has become normalized within our culture, like gay marriage or nylon socks and Nike beach slippers. Weird at first, but meh in the long run. The other day I saw a (Black) dude walking with his (white) woman to Chipotle. I looked at me with terror in his eyes, like I was judging him or something. It took all my strength not to shout “Bruh! It’s all good! I’m just here to get a burrito…not monitor your love life!”

I digress.

Back to that whole bravery thing: I am always intrigued by comments people pass when Black women are brave enough to date not only outside their race – but to date white men in particular. These comments are often passed by Black men. Here’s a small sample:

“She must really hate herself to be with a white guy.”

“I bet he thinks he’s on safari.”

“I wonder if she calls him ‘Massa’ in bed…”

These were all the comments that were passed at a bar-b-que I attended here in Atlanta a few years ago when this FOINE Ivorian girl showed up with her geeky white boyfriend. I didn’t know either of them, and to my shame, I didn’t defend them. I suppose I was just amazed to hear the audible thoughts of Black men on this subject. I can’t help but wonder what people might say about me, given the type of white man I find attractive.

Chris Pine is a very good looking man, and so was Paul Walker (God rest him)….but I would pole vault over both of them to make my way to Benedict Cumberbatch. Benedict Cumberbatch? The frail looking chap with the crooked nose? Yes! That very same one. The one with the intense eyes and the soothing baritone voice. But should it behoove Benedict to beware of me, I would immediately turn my attentions to Alexander Vlahos, the skinny Welsh kid with those dreamy blue eyes. The way I would punish him, eh? He doesn’t know! Serve him up with a side of Buddy Holly and we have a proper pale-frail buffet!


I can see your faces. You are aghast. What kind of self-respecting African woman likes a white man whom she can subjugate and conquer? But that’s just the point, isn’t it? It wasn’t tall, strong white men who orchestrated the takeover of the entire globe, was it? It was the little devious ones with the devilish eyes. They made you trust them, them BAM! They made off with all your artifacts and your cultural dignity. I suppose my desire cum attraction is some visceral need to avenge the wrongs done to people of color centuries ago. Of course, that’s not true at all. I know exactly where my appreciation stems from.



When I was in elementary school, there was a kid named Todd that was in my third grade class. Todd was tall, blonde and brilliant. Todd had a late birthday in December, which also made him one of the older – and therefore more mature – kids in our class. Once, we had a project to do. President Regan was visiting our school and we had to make signs to welcome him. None of the other kids would work with me because I was an “African booty scratcher”, but Todd came over to my table and gave ideas about what my sign could say to welcome the president. I crushed on Todd like no third grader had ever crushed on a boy before! I tried not to be all weird about it, so I showed by appreciation for his kindness by refusing to speak to him or moving away from the lunch table when he sat down next to me.


People in general make a lot of assumptions about interracial couples, but there is usually one constant when one half of that couple is a Black woman. Folks usually assume – and remark with pity – that that woman is being “exoticised” by her white partner. That could be true. I met a white man who only dated women of color – any color – because he really did think he was on a dating safari. I don’t have a problem with this sort of thinking, except in the way that it treats women like objects. You don’t think we also exoticise people of other races? I used to work with this Serbian guy named Vladimir that was so washed out and pale, he made rice look tan and toasty; and I was taking him to lunch every chance I got. Took him outside and showed him off like he was my favorite Serbian accessory. We were both married and wore rings, and I reveled in the quizzical looks that people would give us when we sat in public laughing like the great friends we were. What would such a gawky looking white guy and a buxom Black woman with natural hair have in common? Plenty, it turns out.

Sisters! Sisters looking for a date! Sisters looking for a good husband! Do something for yourselves. Tomorrow is Saint Patrick’s Day and the Irish boys will be out en force. Don’t let them fool you: they like Black women and like them very well! (Except for the overtly racist ones, of course.) They are just afraid they will be rejected or worse, cussed out by a Black woman in public. Wink, flirt, wear a green wig and learn an Irish jig or two. Knowing the words to a Bob Dylan song or two never hurt either. You’ll be wed and making little leprechauns in no time.

Every Man Sounds Like a Wounded Wookiee to his Wife

Good day to you, saints! I ain’t gwine keep ya long today. There is just a quick observation I have made that I wanted to share with you. Perhaps you have noticed it to.

This is an exercise for both men and women: Close your mind’s eye if you would, and imagine a might grizzly bear sniffing for berries and shrubs. Is he making the most horrific sounds…like he’s farting through his nose? Good. That’s a healthy grizzly bear. Now, if you’re a man imagining this, what you may not know is this is the sound your wife hears when she thinks you are talking absolute nonsense. No, honestly.

I repeat: A male mate who is making no sense to his female spouse sounds like a wounded galactic beast clinging to the last vestiges of life.

You are getting offended, eh? Just wait.

I had the pleasure of having coffee at MX5’s house about a month or more ago, and on this rare occasion, FX5 happened to come home early. Just 60 days ago, Bill Cosby was still a hot topic that was being heavily debated around not just this nation, but the world. A cadre of Black men came gallantly to Mr. Cosby’s defense – not necessarily for his sake, but for the sake of preserving the virtuous image of Black manhood – and FX5 seemed to be one of them.

“Why is it that every time the culture or the government wants to take a Black man down, they use sex?” he wondered aloud. “They did the same thing with MLK. They have done it scores of our national leaders.” He went on to ask rhetorically. “They didn’t have nothing else to take Bill Cosby down with?”

MX5 responded, saying “I agree, but perhaps the answer is for Black men is to stop doing these things – like drugging and raping women or having affairs on their wives – and then they wouldn’t have to use sex as a weapon against them.”

As the conversation raged on, I found myself a mere spectator. I could not get a word in edgewise between husband and wife. Finding himself on the ropes in the face of MX5’s dazzling mental dexterity, FX5 conceded a few of her points, revised the wording of some of his statements, but stood by his initial premise. This did not go down well with MX5, who to my amazed me with what she did next.

AngryWookiee-TEA“That’s not what you said!” she exclaimed. She hunched her shoulders, pouted her lips and spoke with a huskiness I had never heard before. “You said ‘I duh wnana huuhh muh wana wah’!”

I was gobsmacked. What was I seeing? What was I hearing?! I was seeing myself, that’s what. I was seeing myself (and every other Black married woman, apparently) in MX5. This was something other people did? Surely, this could not be so. As I typically do when I doubt I’ve interpreted something correctly, I ask Marshall his thoughts.

“Babe…I KNOW when I think you are being insensitive/unwitty/regressive I make this weird noise while imitating you.”

“Oh, you mean the one where you make me sound like the teacher in a Peanuts cartoon?” Marshall replied with a scoff.

“Yes! That one! Only today…I saw MX5 do it to FX5,” I said pensively. “He doesn’t even sound like that.”

“That’s just something you Black women do,” Marshall said flatly. “My mom does it. My aunt Wilma does it. You all do it.”

Unfortunately, I don’t spend enough time with my white female married friends outside of the virtual world to refute his assertion, but somehow I doubt that’s true. Instead, I thought back to all the instances where I’ve seen this behavior and have come to realize it’s an actual thing…a veritable female tic. Ironically, the Cosby Show provided one such example.

Do you recall the episode where Bill had prepared a bar-b-que for the family, but all his kids where fighting with their spouses? It was the episode where Lisa Bonet (aka Denise Huxtable) was wearing that odd yellow jump suit that made her look like a hungry banana. Anyhow, Elvin had said something sexist and Sandra called him out on it immediately. Martin (Denise onscreen husband) didn’t give a reply when he asked about his feelings about what Elvin had said. Instead, he laughed and walked out of the room. As the episode progressed, Denise made a mockery of Martin’s visceral response by contorting her face and making her imitation sound like something out of a Willy Wonka nightmare.

Oh Gawd. Maybe Marshall was right!

Now if you’re a woman, pause and think about the last time your husband/partner said something you consider dumb. When you regurgitated his words back to him (and we always do), what did you voice sound like?

I already know; A wounded wookiee.

MegatheriumI’m sure there are many reasons women do this, and I’m sure some of it is evolutionary. I think a part of it has to do with the mysterious aura of your spouse dissipating over time. I the beginning, when the love was fresh and you guys are just getting to know each other, the dude still held some element of danger. He wasn’t completely known to you, right? So even when he said something you thought was off, you may have privately rolled your eyes passive-aggressively. But 10, 15, 35 years down the line, this is a guy who’ve nursed through fevers, coached through awkward interactions, sat up waiting for to come home until dawn and in some cases, had to bail out of jail. All that passive aggression morphs into full on aggressive aggression when the mystique is gone! And that gentlemen, is why you sound like a hurt Megatherium to your woman. But take heart fellas. We only hear this sound when we think you are being willfully obtuse and because we love you.

M.O.M. Squad of all ages and races, have you noticed this behavior? Are Black women the only ones guilty of it. Are you going to pause the next time you find yourself to make these grunting noises? Are husbands going to exclaim “See! You’re doing it!” the next time your wife imitates you? Discuss! ↓



“Should Christian Men Hit it from The Back?” Well, Since You Asked….

This evening I received a very odd, and rather unexpected text from a woman in my church. It was unexpected because I rarely have contact with said woman, and secondly, because of the nature of said text. We do not know each other like that. Like what, you ask. See here:

Maleaka, I have a question about your blog. I am here with [two other high ranking women in the church mentioned by name]. We heard you wrote a blog called “Should Christian Men Hit it From the Back?” Is that true? We’re looking for it…

Ewurade. This my blog. This my church! I never thought the day would come when there would be a coupling between the two. Even though the topic sounds like one I might I have written, I ensured my enquirer -let’s call her Romona- that I am/was not the responsible party. Romona apologized and ceased all electronic communication.

I, however, was ill at ease. I asked my husband what may have prompted Romona’s question. Why would she be asking ME? I went down a series of theories as Marshall shook his head. He assured me there was no mal-intent behind it.

“In fact, she’s asked this question before,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Ah. Why is she so obsessed about whether or not Christian men hit it from the back?”

“I don’t know,” he answered slowly, “but the subject did come up in early morning prayer.”

Heh? Is this what my church people are praying about at 5am? I should make it a point to show up one of these days!

As I am sure at least one of the trio who initiated this discourse is reading this now, I think we should rephrase the question, since we are talking about heteronormative Judeo-Christian terms. After all, we don’t want people thinking I am here promoting sex out of wedlock. I am a deacon’s wife! The better question would be “Should One’s Christian Husband be Hitting it From the Back?” The short answer to this question is “yes”.

The long answer is: Your Christian husband should be hitting it in as many ways as your combined masses will allow. Marshall and I have a combined weight of 537 lbs. on a California King mattress.  I’m not sure what that is in psi, but I am hoping one of the engineers who is down with the MOM Squad can work that out.

pirateCaptainNeither of has joints that are that malleable, but when it comes to sex, I will rally and force as much flexibility as I can muster. Why? I’ve told you all this before: I am at an age where I only want orgasms. Every Christian woman should want orgasms. If we are not here for orgasms, what are we here for? We have conceived the children we will ever need. I have explained this to my husband in no unquestionable terms, and his understands his duty. The ONLY goal (!) is to have orgasms. Sometimes I like to dress up as a pirate captain and demand my husband join me on a quest for booty, just to make sure there is no confusion.

“Aaarrrr! And don’t come up for air until ye hath found me orgasim!”

No seriously. What kind of class 2 question if this? Should Christian men be hitting it from the back. How? This is why people don’t want to come to church, get married and get saved oooo. They think they will be doing missionary position for the rest of their lives!

Oh! We are so glad you have accepted Jesus into your heart and are now covered by His blood. Now that you have a wife, the two of you must put away your wicked, sinful ways in the bedroom. You must choose this day one sexual position, and one position only! Your wife will lie on her back in submission, and you, my brother, will climb on top and pound her.

Kai! I reject that! So for the next 30-40 years of married life, I can only eat one meal served one way? Is my marriage a sexual prison? No, please. God did not give us imaginations for us to only be doing missionary position. A Christian couple should have 2 things: An exciting prayer life and an exciting sex life. In fact, pray for God to inspire you to have better sex.

Sister, if you are reading this, your husband should be hitting it from the back AND MORE. He should have your legs on his shoulders. You should be riding him reverse cowgirl. Your breasts should be jiggling uncontrollably…and if they are in control, they must sway gracelessly in a pendulum. You and your Christian husband should have as much sex in as many different ways and in as many different situations as your circumstances will allow.

You should do it in a box.

You should do it with a fox.

You should do it on the floor.

Sex should not be dull.

You should want more, more, more!


Now, in all seriousness, I understand the genesis of the question. I believe it is because one of our Bishops said at one conference – or during one sermon or another – that he did not do it from the back with his wife because when he was a dog in the street, that’s how he would have sex with random women. He didn’t want to put a face to the vagina, so he would engage in doggy-style sex. (I’m paraphrasing. His rendition was much more eloquent.) Now that he is married to his lovely wife, it is simply his preference that they face each other. I don’t recall him stating that couples should not engage in doggy-style sex.


Doggy, doggy, doggy!

Look here. If animal-imitation sex is what it is going to take to get your wife to orgasm, then please advise yourself and do that. After all, the best Kung Fu is inspired by the animal world. Did not the Crane Technique take Daniel Laruso to the championship in Karate Kid? Was his execution not flawless, even though the Cobra Kai kid had broken his hip? Every Christian couple needs to invest time in studying the animal world and apply their characteristics for better and more interesting sex! How do vultures do it? Let’s try that.

Do you know that every day, thousands of married women die without ever having experienced the pleasure and the POWER of an orgasm? This is a human tragedy on par with war and famine. I believe both men and women have discounted the true value of a good, strong, enduring female climax. It is the memory of that sensation that keeps ones wife doing your dookey stained laundry. It is what causes her to greet you with a smile after your hard day at work. It is what makes her rest her head on your shoulder on Sunday mornings during service. If – as a couple – we are not coming, we are going. And we are going in the wrong direction, hurtling towards anger and dissatisfaction. So please, let’s come together, in all senses of the phrase.

Now, if you cannot give your wife orgasms because you are lazy or unskilled, you must at least be able to give her money in compensation for your failure. Your wife is not a saint suffering with and for you just for the fun of it. If, post coitus,  you glance over and your wife is looking at you with this face, just advise yourself. Go into your wallet, and bless her with Calvin Klein spending money for wasting her time.

Really, dude? I coulda had a V8.

Really, dude? I coulda had a V8.

I just can’t believe I got asked this question. A Christian woman is like any other warmblooded woman. She wants her heart to skip a beat. She wants to be surprised in love. Some of us even like to be spanked. I do. Just the other night, I told my husband to spank me as if I had stood in front of the church and told the whole congregation that he spends his spare time rolling in glitter and skipping through dewy meadows in a silver kilt. After he got over the shock and his fit of laughter he delivered a proper, open-palmed blow.






In conclusion, I hope I have made my sentiments on the matter very clear. If hitting it from the back is going to thrill you both between the sheets, then that is what you MUST do. There are no “shoulds” about it. At 37, I am past my self-determined child-bearing age. My uterus’ function is no longer to carry human  life. What I am not, however, is past orgasm achieving age. I don’t think that age will ever come. I want to and plan to have sheet staining climaxes well into my 90’s. I can see my grandkids now.

“Guys! Grandma peed on herself again. Someone come help me change the sheets.”

I will respond with a sly grin, “Oh no. That’s not pee, baby. Heh heh heh… Now give your Granny some water. She’s thirsty.”



Welcome to My Church!

Saints! I ain’t gwine keep you long on this Monday mernin’. I just wanted to share a memory that came back to me after I had a conversation online earlier today. Someone had shared with me that she had gone to a wedding this weekend, where as usual, sexism and simplicity (of mind) were on display.

“You are now subject to your husband!” the officiating pastor is said to have declared. “It doesn’t matter what they said at Beijing. You career comes fourth.”

He went on to add that she must never argue with her husband and that she must never deny him sex – even when he has offended her.

The woman recounting this series of events was horrified of course, and I was grateful she could not see my face contorted in laughter. Never deny your husband sex, eh? Even when you’ve got a yeast infection? Even when your underwear looks like the floor of a butchery during your special time of the month? Even when you’ve had one too many bean pies and have wicked gas and he wants to hit it from the back?

These Ghanaian pastors are, like, sooo impractical.

Of course the basis of all this advice is “scriptural”, with that scripture being based on Ephesians 5:22.

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.

Eh? You said what? Ephesians 5:21 says what? ”Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”? Please…no. That is contrary to the message we are preaching in Ghana. In GHANA, it is for the wife to submit and obey. She is the body. It is for the husband to be the head; and that head must be stroked, pampered, petted and fed. Is the head not where the mouth is? Com’on then! Bring it food to eat! What is this nonsense about mutual respect for each other? You are a married woman now, and your dreams/hopes/plans only have validity if I say they do.

Oh, Lawd! How I roared to myself this morning!

I asked my husband yesterday what he believes the average man’s definition of “submission” is, as far as a woman (because there are dudes who believe all women should submit to men, whether they be their husbands or not) is concerned. What constitutes a protocol of submission? Now Mr. Grant, who is ever the diplomat, first went on to make it clear that the Bible says that spouses are to submit one to another, that men have the greater responsibility to ensure the happiness and health of their households, and a litany of reasons that solidified why I married him. Is this not a man? I weep for my female counterparts who went to the altar thinking they were marrying men, only to get on the other side of “I do” and discover they were instead wed to a Baby-Pimp-Boss. You know…the guys who want you to be ever ready (and eager) to please him sexually, but relies on you to boil him water for a bath, but at the same time wants you to treat him like a deity, even in the face of his marginal competence? Oh don’t play coy. You know these couples!

Marshall asked if he was to start a church in Ghana, would his message to men be received.

“That message would not be welcome,” I said flatly. “Sure, you’d have a small following, but you would never have to invest in a large edifice or tons of seating. You’d have 8 members…10 tops.”

This made him laugh, of course. Who ever heard of a 10 member church?

The memory I wanted to share with you has to do with my Christian journey. I haven’t prayed for the sick and had anyone recover, I barely led one girl to Christ while I was in college and I don’t have many verses committed to memory. These are qualifications for being named among Christ’s disciples (not whether I choose to wear pants to work or not), so I don’t think I’ve earned the right to be called a Christian. Marshall, who is a deacon on the other hand, has earned this. It grieved him to see his wife so fallen behind, and many years ago he asked me if I could make the effort to become more ‘krife’.

I denied him that request. I know myself. He would not enjoy living with a Christian fundamentalist, krife Malaka. But what might such a woman look like? I can picture it now; I in my pink pillbox hat and ankle length skirt…and white stockings! All female preachers need white stockings…


*****MOM MODE******

Greetings, and welcome to Christ Feminist (He came to set the captives free) Church! Today, I want to talk to you faithful few about men.

Yes, men!

Some of you sisters have been causing men to fall, because you have not told them the truth about their place in Gulllld (translation: God). You have not quoted them Proverbs 6. You have not led them to Proverbs 24! You have allowed your Baby/Pimp/Boss mates to wallow in mediocrity, and now look who is suffering? You!

Today, I want to tell you about the parable of the cotton wool.

106HipPastorThere once was a plantation owner who had vast fields of cotton. Year after year, his slaves picked the finest cotton and put them into bales. The children of the slaves picked the seeds from the tiny white buds, and they were all unhappy. The plantation owner didn’t care though. His profits doubled every year and his cotton was used to make the finest clothing for the British aristocracy.

But one planting season, he got a bad strain of cotton seed, and his cotton bolls came out grey and hardly fluffy. When the slaves tried to put them in huge bales, they would disintegrate and often blow uncontrollably all over his field. Sometimes, the wayward cotton would stray into other planter’s fields, polluting their soil. Instead of the cotton being used for fine attire for the rich, it could now only be used as sanitary napkins.

Because you sisters have not fed your husbands, boyfriends and side-guys the proper gospel, they are now that lower grade of cotton. See! See how your men have lowered themselves. They have not taken on the mantle of kingship. They see themselves as poor cotton wool, whose sole job in life is to sit between the legs of whatever woman they find themselves in the presence of.

Whores! Male whores! Did not the Lord Gullllld create you for more than this? Why are you constantly seeking moist, wet environments to perpetually dwell in? Are you sanitary cotton wool?



This is why God has never placed in me a desire to preach.

Should You Trust Your Spouse Unreservedly?

I recently wrote an article in support of Itz Tiffany on Adventures after videos of her having sex with her husband were released into the ether by no one other than her (now ex) husband.

Yes. Let that sink in.

Apparently, his motivation for releasing the videos was to reduce, shame and demoralize her with hopes of ultimately destroying her career. The rules, repercussions and rewards for nudity and sexually suggestive images are very different for a woman depending on her race and/or ethnicity. If Africa and in the African diaspora (that includes you, Black America!) a naked Black woman in the public arena is a whore, pure and simple. There is no mystique or analysis afforded the nude, Black form that is afforded women of other races, who are more likely to be described as “racy”, or “daring”, or “artistic”, or “rebellious, or just plain “weird”. We know it and Black men in particular know it. And since we are all in the know, should you then trust your significant other with a camera?

Trust is supposed to be the cornerstone of any long term relationship. Even when relationships are adversarial, you can still trust that your foe has constant plans to usher in your undoing. That certainty keeps you on your toes and alert to their wiles. But when you are engaged in a loving relationship, especially one that culminates in marriage, is it wrong –or even dangerous – to trust your partner completely?

The issue of trust has been a concern in my house for quite a while. At my insistence, my husband and I have held separate bank accounts. It has been one of the few things I have refused to compromise on. I will never completely pool my personal resources into one household account. His contention is that doing this makes it appear that I don’t trust him, and this makes him feel bad. My retort is that he shouldn’t, because even if he was Christ Almighty Hisse’f, I still would have my own account. I do not believe a woman should ever be without control of her own money. On the other hand, I think my husband should be encouraged that I trust him in other – and probably more meaningful –areas. I trust him with my soul, my secrets and my body. I trust him to respect me and to defend me. If I live to be ten thousand, I would never expect Mr. Grant to reveal pictures or videos of my body into the public domain. But am I fool for that?

There has recently been a spate of ‘revenge porn’ i.e. ex-partners releasing videos and pictures of women in compromising positions all over the news. The most recent and outrageous of these comes via the case of Desire Luzinda, a pop star from Uganda who is to be arrested for having naked images of herself released in the public domain. The mechanics of how this works bends the mind. Her ex-boyfriend released the images, but she is the one who gets arrested for violating the country’s morality and decency laws. There is no word yet on whether the boyfriend will be arrested for distributing pornography, but my Patriarchy and Misogyny Senses tell me it’s not likely to happen. It’s ironic (and disgusting) that this young man has found an accomplice in the government for his vendetta to further punish this young woman. Whereas other nations like the UK have inked laws to protect women from revenge porn and other forms of online bullying, several African nations are setting us back to the Dark Ages with their brand of witch hunting inquisitions in the name of ‘decency’.

It’s just tragic all the way round.

Ms. Luzinda’s explanation for why she allowed herself to be photographed in the nude is because she was “in love”; and as any woman who has ever thought or known herself to be in love, you can imagine Luzinda was doing anything to make her partner happy. This obviously included taking nude pictures for his benefit. She was being “racy” with the expectation that her privacy would be respected, but we all know now that racy doesn’t work that way for African women!

One commenter named Leslie on the Adventures blog has harsh criticism for any woman who allows herself to be photographed in the nude. She calls such women “brainless” and stated that it was only a brainless woman who would trust a man completely…even if that man was her husband. She seemed to imply that only brainless women allow themselves to be vulnerable, which I think is an unfair accusation.

smallerbandsIs Leslie right though? Should a wife hold her husband in suspicion at ALL times? I can allow for a boyfriend leaking photos, because I think of men who have found themselves firmly in ‘boyfriend status’ as those whom a woman has not determined mature enough to marry. An immature man – like a boyfriend – would post personal images, emails, voice mails, etc. to shame a woman in public. But a husband on the other hand – someone who has worked to provide a home, honors his family legacy, spends time pondering the ways of the world, seeks knowledge and speaks with intelligence – a HUSBAND would never do that. To that end, a wife should never have to fear that her husband would diminish her in this way. I think too many women are allowing boyfriends husband benefits, and these are the results. I’m not victim blaming at all! What I am saying we have a swathe of humanity who has misplaced their trust in totally unqualified candidates.

If you can’t have trust in a marriage, then where are you supposed to have it? Suspicion of your spouse can only poison your relationship and lead to its destruction in the end, which is why Leslie’s comments and others like hers cause me some disquiet. If you can’t trust your husband and vice versa, what’s the point in even getting married? But then, maybe I’m a fool.

Thoughts? Discuss ↓


Lessons on Accepting and Tolerating Domestic Violence Start Early for Little Girls

By now you’ve seen the Ray Rice video where the Ravens running back gets into an elevator with his fiancé, punches her unconscious and then drags her out of the elevator like trash. They have since tied the knot/jumped de broom/ whatever you want to call the fiasco when a woman marries her abuser.

rayIt’s easy to point fingers at Janay Palmer and ask yourself what on earth would possess her to legally bind herself to a man who has proven he is prone to violence and clearly lacks self-control. What further would compel her to join him on stage during a press conference and “admit” that she had some part to play in her own beating? Philosophers like DL Hughley might rationalize that it is because Ms. Palmer is a “thirsty bitch” who doesn’t want to mess up her money. The only person who can provide reasons why she is still with Ray Rice is Janay Palmer, and like many victims of domestic violence, those reasons become murkier with time.

“I don’t know why I stayed,” is the refrain you often hear from women who have escaped violent relationships. This will often be followed with a litany of justifications that include:



The kids


As always, I never want to give the illusion that I am sitting in judgment of another woman in circumstances such as these. While I have never been in a physically abusive relationship, I was a willing participant in an emotional (and well documented) one for a year with Douche Bag. I even confessed to the MOM Squad to wanting to marry him at some point. I was enamored with his ‘potential’. If he just applied himself he could really BE something, I thought. But the man is an outright lost case… as his fiancé (with no engagement ring, and now, no wedding date) has come to discover. I wonder how long she’s going to let him live in her expansive house, rent free with access to as much free food and sex as his little heart desires? That will be for her to decide. Every woman has her line and her limits.

But what makes women so tolerant of abuse? The figures on domestic violence are murky, but it’s estimated that between 25-33% of all women will find themselves a victim of domestic abuse in some form. The abuse can take the form of psychosocial or emotional trauma, to routine beating and in some cases death.

It is my contention that people who abuse women –even female ones – seek out certain types of women. They look for women who are sweet, or have moderate-low self-esteem, or fiercely dependent, or confess to undying loyalty. A woman like that is easier to trap and control than your garden variety self-obsessed, highly ambitious gargoyle who would sooner burn their assailant alive than to let him/her touch her in a violent way. That’s not to say a person with an abusive personality wouldn’t try it; but the point of abuse is to establish control and women who are not easily controlled do not make convenient victims.

These ‘feminine’ qualities – the self-sacrificing and nurturing archetypes that women are raised to aspire to – are a hotbed for the virus that is an abusive personality. If not presented with a strong sense of balance, they do more to enable the abuser than to deter his or her behavior. It’s important that we talk about woman on woman abuse when we speak about domestic violence, because the face of lesbian domestic violence is often veiled. I have had two very good friends share with me the horror of having their partner stomp them in a parking lot or assault them at home. Whether it’s a man beating up a woman or same gendered abuse, the goal is the same: to assert dominance and to make your victim feel weak, afraid, and hopefully, too scared to leave.

These are emotions I will never tolerate as they relate to my girls.

My parents never talked to me about the intricacies of domestic violence. We never talked about the mechanics or the intention behind it. There was always a sense that they would “take care” of anybody that hurt us, but even in that messaging I found myself feeling more afraid and compassionate for the potential recipient of my parent’s wrath than I did for myself. I did and could not fathom that anyone would hurt me so severely that it would warrant such intense retaliation!

There are many conversations I will have to have with my girls including dating, choosing colleges, which market to buy their first home, why they should never accidentally put diesel in their engine that only takes unleaded…but I confess I never put domestic violence on the list. It’s scary to imagine, let alone discuss. Fortunately, a cartoon gave me the perfect segue to the topic.

jemI recently introduced the girls to JEM and they have been devouring the episodes like a pair of piranha. Like many other American girls, I loved the cartoon in the 80’s, memorized the theme song and wished I could be a star, just like Jem and the Holograms. I vaguely remember her having a boyfriend named Rio, but now that I am watching the cartoon as an adult, I am horrified! Rio as I have rediscovered, is in a 3-way relationship with Jem and Jerrica Benton (who are the same person). In one episode we all watched, Jerrica was on the verge of revealing to Rio that Jem was her secret identity. The burden was too much for her to bear, and Rio was screwing with her head, confessing to loving Jem AND Jerrica on separate occasions. Before she could confess, there was an altercation with some other people in the house and she changes her mind.

Furious because she won’t be forthcoming with him, Rio then storms off screaming at Jerrica and then KICKIN OVER HER FICUS before essentially telling her to screw herself. The girl just stood there and cried. I was beside myself with rage, because one day the dude is kicking down your plants, the next he’s kicking in your teeth…

“Girls!” I squawked. “Don’t you EVER let some dude come over to your house and kick your plants over. You hear me? That ain’t his house. That’s YOUR house. And you better not let me hear about you crying over it neither!”

This was followed by a chorus of “Yes, Mommy” accompanied with neck rolls and declarations of woe to befall any boy foolish enough to pull such a stunt. It was a start.

But now I know I have to have more meaningful discussions with my girls about relationships and abuse. With our children being sexualized through all forms of print and electronic media, I know it’s my duty as a mother to control or contribute as much as I can to that messaging. Not doing so would be irresponsible – like letting their little hands go and allowing them to wonder on that dark path I’ve traveled on myself, or to unconsciousness on an elevator floor.