The Feminist club

image credit: Miriam Syowia
image credit: Miriam Syowia

“I don’t want to get my knickers in a twist by saying which woman is better than the other, every woman has something to bring to the table.”

My buddy John howls and I already know a heated debate is knocking on the door, because no light conversation ever started after someone uttered the phrase, “knickers in a twist.” It’s ominous like dark clouds before the El Nino or having a sundowner with mpango wa kando then she turns slowly and asks you, ‘what are we?’

We’re having one for the road at the local and knickers are really in a twist – Hehe I’m still trying to get the hang of this phrase. Ear buds can be in a twist, braids can be in a twist, but knickers? Anyway my other buddy Kim is falling over himself trying to catch the eye of a woman out of his league, as he puts it he is tired of the so called ‘college bimbos’ who are only capable of thinking in 140 characters and 50 shades of filters so John jumps in to defend all the women in the universe (socialites included) only he had to use, a “knickers in a twist” phrase to do it.

You see Kim thinks of himself a stud, he likes women and he carries himself with the demeanor of someone who gets laid a lot but I think he’s got it way over his head this time, lasting over a feminist and I’m not talking about those fake feminists who are only good at ranting on social media. I’m talking Chimamanda-type-feminist. A woman who walks the talk, a woman who wears a kink because she claims she can’t succumb to the white man concept of beauty that is relaxing her steel wool hair.

A woman who wears her accomplishments on her sleeves. A woman who is doing well for herself (Caroline Mutoko should come to mind) those women who you have nothing else to offer besides love and affection. Because if they wanted too they could buy your entire life and your afterlife after that and still have enough for their upkeep.

Kim must have swapped his Panadol prescription with something offered by a ‘mganga toka Tanga’ because he wanted to truncate from women who fill their weekend with Scandal and Real housewives of Kawangware to a woman who thinks more between 7am to 9am than most people think in a year. A woman who does yoga and meditates to keep her mind sharp. You can’t satisfy this type of woman because she’s not after money, you’re fresh out of luck unless you can make it rain yoga mats.

John leaves abruptly perhaps to untangle his knickers (hehe) and I’m left with Kim.

Bro are you sure you want to go down this feminist rabbit hole?

[Sheepish grin]

Hole? What type of hole?


The kind where you wear the skirt?


What’s your game plan?

Candle lit dinner in a yuppie restaurant?

I don’t think soggy and sentimental will work on this one, you’ll need a completely new set of tools.


You want to razzle and dazzle her don’t you?

Yes, that’s the entire point.

Then get her something you usually don’t get every other girl. I’d recommend a book, something like half of a yellow sun by Chimamanda that ought to ruffle her tail-feather if you catch my drift.

Half of a yellow what…?

Ok, ok try buying her something feminine maybe a hair product, something that says I’m in charge but I will let you co-pilot every now and then.

Nice and lovely?

Pray for my buddy, his knickers are really in a twist.

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