DEAR MADAM EUNICE ATUEJIDE...

It's a beautiful Saturday morning here. I woke up feeling pretty and special today. I'm so happy because I'm a woman, the universe must be in my favour for making me wake up each day with my delicately designed features, intricately programmed hormones and-

CUT! 

Nonsense and vanity. 

Happy to disappoint those women waiting for me to go on about how special I am because women can conceive babies and men can't, women experience menstrual cramps and birthing pains and must because of that be treated like eggs. Because of that. Just that. Nothing but that. 

Is that why their role model, Eunice Atuejide thought that having herself primarily portrayed as a mother of five by the press is going to be a plus to her presidential aspiration? Or maybe it will, in a country like Nigeria where most people, even women, see any woman that dares step outside the shadows of her husband and children as a threat. 

How is giving birth to five children an achievement in a presidential campaign? It's a bid for a chance to preside over a nation full of hidden talents and barefaced corruption. Not an opening for the position of Yemoja, goddess of fertility for goodness sake. 

To make matters worse, the ones who are not subtly setting marriage, motherhood and domestic duties as the apex of female existence are busy asking women on national televisions and dailies, in interviews that are supposed to be enlightening and empowering, how they combine being a wife, a mother and a CEO of wachamacallit. 

If you don't realize yet how unintelligent (trying not to say stupid) such questions are, then try to think back to the time you last heard a man being asked that. When? 

Never. 

I guessed as much. 

I can already picture in my head how a lot of these women, who live and breathe the validation of the society, self-importantly readjust in their seats, relishing another chance to get the sleeping society to praise them simply because they exclusively breastfeed their children for 1 year, kneel beside gutters to greet their ogas and dare to aspire to an enviable career outside the kitchen and za ozza room. 

We live in era where women who see being married with kids and holding a job as a rare superpower demand the same level of respect and opportunities that abound to men, men who get no accolades for dashing out before dawn and returning late at night because traffic, work; Men who automatically become these women's and their families' ATMs and insurance companies just because they are unfortunate to be the ones with the penises. 

And you see the ones that I find most ridiculous, the so-called Miss Independents and feminists who easily see the prejudice in statements like "female austronaut", "female doctor", and easily point out gaffes like the one committed by Punch Newspaper in a caption that read "Mother of five declares for presidential bid... ", but ironically still call themselves "She-bosses" and expect me not to feel offended when they call me the same because women are supposed to always have each other's backs. 

Feminism is an ideology. Not a cult. Hello! 

And when will people wake up and stop fighting the wrong battles. Must it always be a competition against men? A man is a boss. At his best he's still a boss. A woman is a boss, at her best she's still a boss, not a She-boss you sheeple!😂😂 Enough of this tomfoolery you call feminism.

I even hear that they now have another one they invented for themselves. SheEO. As in She-E-O. (Emojis fail me to convey the smirk on my face).

Please miss me with that. I'm a boss, a CEO. Being a wife is not a virtue. It's a privilege. A privilege in which the unmarried, the widowed and the divorced are not necessarily less-privileged. Ovaries and mammaries don't make me any more special than a man with a scrotum and what  has he. 

We must learn to stop expecting accolades for waking up and getting off our behinds to fend for ourselves and our children. 

And oh, it's a beautiful Saturday morning, no doubt.

Happy weekends.

28.07.18