The Vagina Has A Brain

It would be definitely easier for the camel to pass through the eyes of a needle than young men find good wives in my municipal, Owerri. This was the worst time to be alive for most young men that resided in these parts of the world. A cultural tsunami had befallen the land and none had been prepared to embrace what laid in wait. They all had been born natural lions, who ruled the jungle, even with their eyes closed. They had been kings for too long, attracting the lionesses by sheer possession of a big mane. Now, they were all laying bare-bellied, under the scorching sun, looking for game that was near unreachable. Lions in the jungle now risked eating yams meant for the goats.

In a pride, the lionesses were the primary hunters while the dominant males protected the territories. An unspoken cohesion existed even in the food sharing formula….a ritual they say was in place that exhibits a form of hierarchy among the lion pride. The Males eat first, then the females that were involved in the kill, then the cubs. The dominant male renowned and loved despite his idleness and long sleep patterns was always given credit for his skill in small hunts and guarding of perimeter hence “Lion share”.

His big mane, a promising factor for his existence.

That age long practice was not working anymore. The male lions were losing tight grip on their pride, they were getting old and tired, their manes were withered and shriveled. That, which attracted the females were fast disappearing. The inner working of the pride was not holding forth.

The young men around my municipal were destined for doom with these new revelations. A reincarnation into another animal needed to happen. A change that would counter the looming and almost imploding prowess of the girls of Owerri needed activation to maintain the same power they had among their pride. An attribute that they believed put them one step ahead while maintaining the “men over women” status quo of the land….. keeping the lionesses in continuous awe.

The Hindu mythology had it that Indra, who unable to defeat Ravana, sheltered under the wings of a peacock and later blessed it with a “thousand eyes” and fearlessness from serpents. Another of such stories had it that Indra was cursed to have a thousand ulcers (euphemism for the vagina) by Guatama after discovering an affair. He had cursed him to lose his testicles.

Our boys might have been cursed…..

They had chosen the peacock, a bird that thrived by blatantly showing off. A bird famous for it’s tall tail feathers with colorful eye-spots and a killer dance move that gave them edges over others. Their choice, however apt considering the attention peacocks garnered from peahens especially when they turned around or shook their wings or even rattled their tails during a courtship dance.

The boys in Owerri now lived a life of a peacock, no more that of a lion. They were now dependent on the outward attributes of a peacock that attracted the peahens..the girls. None whatsoever had the inkling of protecting the females anymore, they were all out to harm and devour them.

Their big lion mane was now replaced with nice feathers with adorning colors. The boys now loved the flashy trappings of life and loved less that which challenged the creativity of the mind. Well coordinated hunts, carefully planned game stakeouts, routine territorial checks and bravado exhibited by a lion were now replaced with a show of ill-gotten wealth, fast cars, hotel rooms and brandishing of currencies as would a peacock. A new normal was awash in my land.

Surprisingly, it is of note that peahens looked at the lowest edge of tail feathers and do not pay attention to the rest of the five-foot tall displays. According to a study, the female gaze rarely fell at or above the peacocks’ head. Of the small portion of time spent looking at the males, females looked longest at the legs and the lower portion of the train. It is no brainier to wonder why the girls in my city were now attracted to these new set of boys. Quite simple. Nature had it that way.

The boys with the biggest wheels were crowned with the most attention from the females. The “wheels” as depicted in this write up is an integral and important piece of this story as it had become what each and every young man strive to acquire once they come across some sort of financial aggrandizement. The former norm whence adult males, ready to mingle, left the pride in search of lionesses in other pride of lions without fear of stronger or equal competitors was no longer attainable. The notion that the male lion needed to fight with dominant males in another pride to stamp control hardly sufficed. The well-known tact employed by lions were no more viable. A grave show of bravado and strength exhibited while frightening, overpowering, killing or driving away the dominant male in another pride in the quest to stake a claim for a female lion was now irrelevant.

The peacock with the brightest feather was now “bae”

A Yankee returnee from Afara had “dislodged my arm from the glenoid cavity”. This had happened in those days when love was innocent, those days one lied recklessly for love. Those days that it felt like one would have died for love. I would take Papa Chibu’s bicycle with his permission, to go grab a few things at ukwu-egbu only for me to race all the way to Afara. Those days when a stroll to neighboring Umuomu would end up a long trek to Afara. I had innocent love for chichi. She was a very beautiful girl that resided in the village. A very knowledgeable girl also, going by the “grammar” at her disposal. She was that girl that made an impression when she strode pass in the village. “The local champions” as she called the boys around her place were not enough to tickle her fancy. Chichi walked like she sailed with the wind, a frail and slender shoulder hung over her thin frame. One would think that she wouldn’t survive a heavy windstorm or worse still blown away by the wind. Looking back, she was always wrapped in sweaters, covering what possibly would be considered in today’s “not endowed”……at my age then “it was my spec”

We loved to talk about books and school and other cool nerdy stuff. She was really all about school and what she wanted for herself. I remember her wanting to be an engineer. ”Engineer” was meant then for nerds and tomboys. Well looking back, she had a knack for that as well going by her choice of clothes, her preference of trousers over skirts. Life for her revolved around brilliance. The only extracurricular that we might have had was probably a stolen kiss. She was touted to be the best in her class and school. She always said, “I would not go with any man without a masters degree at least”…… She had a very lofty taste I would say going by all she wanted.

A consolation for me, for the fact she had considered me a lion destined for greatness.

It had been a rude shock when she had chosen the peacock. I had seen her seated in the front seat of some grey hummer, adorned with the “reddest” lipstick I had seen in my whole life. Behind the wheels of this truck sat a bandanna-wearing fella who chewed cigar like he just discovered it. The way the cigar hung on his lips, one could tell it was a mere accessory. He was one of those guys that just hit gold and now back to mesmerize the village. The rap beats blaring from the speakers gave me an idea of the part of the world he might have come from. As they slowly drove past me, Chichi did not bat an eyelid……a fixated smile like one who had won gold was all I could make out.

I had found out later from a friend that the returnee was a local deejay who had now made it big in the united states. He went on to tell me that the guy had been bragging to whosoever cared to listen, how Chichi made a good assemble and accessory to his newfound status. I had believed this gist totally going by how Chichi sat in the front with that stone of a smile, just like one with an overdose of Botox, with her head tilted an angle towards the center arm console….nodding her head in some unison with some gangster beat….”so much for wanting to be with one with a masters degree my ass”. I had wondered then.

And just like the peahen that had paid much attention to the foot area of the peacock, she had been drawn to the biggest wheels available in the village and not to the one with the better and sharper brain.

Two weeks of non-stop parties. Two weeks of a front seat barbie. Two weeks in the hummer and it was all gone. I heard he moved on to yet another girl leaving Chichi in tatters.

This was an everyday thing now. A conditioning and re-engineering of a society had slowly been perfected. The boys, faced with new expectations have made money and wheels king. One could hardly hear or see boys that aspired to become astute fellows in chosen careers. It was now rare to hear boys strive to invest deeply in meaningful education.

The main focus was instant money and wheels. The golden prize for them was now a crown made of gold, one which attracted the best of peahens….a devastating aftermath that had relegated these females as mere accessories and things of fancy.

“Money was truly the root of all evil” in Owerri. If you were not a peacock, you did not deserve a peahen.

A tragedy that had forgotten that the “Vagina has always had a head”.

We, at It matters period, will continue to push these social discusses that challenge ills against just societies. We would strive to reinvigorate the “Vagina has a head” mantra which eliminates the objectification of girls as mere accessories.

We would encourage the rejuvenation of self-worth by promoting the gains of meaningful education across boards. Education of the mind that would correctly place priorities over wants, necessities over frivolities.

We would constantly promote sound minds. One that would discern truth. An informed one that would be able to separate chaff from grain. “All that glittered ain’t gold” would be better appreciated by these girls armed with indices that measured realities.

We would slowly hope to socially re-engineer the psyche of the immediate society to always look at the totality of the being, the creativity of the mind, the potential inertia of souls and not limit views to that which is kind to only the eye….as the peahen to the footwork of a peacock.

It Matters Period

Uchenna Iwualla M.D