Let’s talk about sex baby
Let’s talk about you and me
Let’s talk about all the good things
And all the bad things that may be
Let’s talk about sex
You guys remember this song? Couldn’t start this blog without some throwback lyrics from Salt n Pepa
I left Nigeria a seventeen year old, with virtually little to no contact with the opposite sex. Boy sef I never kiss, talk more of sex. This is more due to the fact that I was highly sheltered and overprotected by my parents as I grew. I went to an all-girls school and my routine was basically church, school, home, repeat. I had a few dealings with boys here and there because a girl always has her ways, but it was nothing substantial.
So I leave that environment to living entirely by myself in college. Your guess is as good as mine. Sex overload, alcohol, endless partying, and all things lewd right? WRONG! Living by myself taught me one thing: That while I wanted to leave my parents so much because I was so sheltered and never went anywhere, I actually enjoyed not going anywhere! Funny right?
But let’s get to the koko of this why I’m here. There’s one topic that is very important when adulting; Sex. I had no type of sex education whatsoever as a teenager. When I got into my twenties, my mum kept wanting to know my virginity status and it was now an awkward conversation to have because she never initiated it while I was growing up. I stalled for a while, but she persisted so I finally relented and told her I wasn’t a virgin. She went haywire and finally tells me to not have sex with another man till I get married. I started dating after a while and she says,
“This your boyfriend, are you guys having sex?”
“No mum, shebi you said I shouldn’t have sex with another man till I get married so I’m waiting for him to marry me.”
“Na so. Sha use a condom because I’m very fertile. Your father pulled out and we still had you.”
TMI mum. Talk about superrrr awkward.
Anyway, I basically taught myself about sex. I went from wanting to be a virgin till I get married so that my husband will not see me as a woman wey eye don too open, (You know the whole “men love naivety and innocence” talk, which I might add is utter BS), to knowing that my perception of sex and sexuality lies in my hands and mine alone.
For what it’s worth, I don’t have any regrets concerning my sex life. I don’t have the “I should have waited” story that most women seem to have. I had sex for the first time at 20 and I knew what I was getting into. I was mature enough to know that sex is not an automatic means to marriage and I as a woman have the right to sexual fulfillment.
Also read: Letter To My Next
All this happened to me while I was in Obodo Oyibo. Imagine me moving back and seeing the way Nigerian women viewed sex. I was gobsmacked. Sex is not just sex for the Nigerian woman. It has to be somehow dependent on the man. It’s not about you at all; it’s about the man involved.
You think you were made to enjoy sex? Tah! Stop that nonsense talk. You’re supposed to be a virgin till marriage, yet men are having a field day, having sex with everything that has a vagina. If your struggle pays out in the end and finally “win”, your mother and aunties will gather to give you advice. They will tell you that your body now belongs to your husband. “How can you deny him sex?” Even though you probably have to prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner before both of you leave for work in the morning because he doesn’t eat frozen food. That is before bathing, clothing, and dropping the kids off at school because he doesn’t see that as his duty. So yes, open your legs and just lie down there because it’s his right since he paid a bride price on ya head. I nu go?
If you’re like me and you allowed the devil to prevail in your life, shame on you! Your husband will never respect you because you dared to explore your sexuality before becoming his missus. In the meantime, we have to endure the torture of “singlehood” and navigate living in Nigeria as a non-virtuous woman.
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You look at sex as a favour because you have been taught that men own the right to enjoy sex. You’re just a means to an end; never an end in itself. So you expect money and favours in exchange for sex. When I call you a prostitute, you get angry. Why?! You think say na only road ashawo dey stand? You borrow money from your boyfriend and end up getting confronted by him after you refuse to pay up. You’ll now get angry and say “what about all the times you’ve f*cked me between then and now?” You don’t know that equating your sexuality to monetary value when you are not a sex worker is all shades of messed up. You think that a good Valentine’s gift or birthday gift is sex, because God forbid sex is anything other than a means to an end!
You give birth to daughters and you pass on this self destructive information to them , so it becomes an endless cycle of dysfunction.
My now boyfriend was first a sex buddy. We would meet every weekend, hang out, have sex, and I would return home. My friend would ask me how much he gave me. How much he gave me? For what? “For sex now! Or are you just f*cking him for free?” I was confused.
I would say that our generation would be able to right these wrongs concerning our perception of sex but we’re the one who are upholders of these ideals! How do we teach the next generation of women that sex can be an end in itself?
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