That is a truly Nigerian slang for an individual who does not have “swag”, but tries to acquire swag by every means possible. They try to buy swag, but veterans in the game go tell you say swag no dey for market, na only cloth you go fit buy.
E dey for body.
You either have it, or you don’t.
So, those who don’t have it and have tried to buy it to no avail; end up trying to enter swag by fire by force and the end result?
Kind of like one of my Igbo brethren who manages to get a visa to go to Guangzhou in China to buy completely knocked down motor vehicle engine parts; and makes the one month trip which he spends in the market closing his sales with plenty plenty hand gestures; a hybrid of pidgin English and pidgin Mandarin that neither he nor his associates understand; hearty laughter that could mean anything from “your head no correct”, to “nwa nna mere m ebere, the money you are calling is too morsh”, to “kattaway from here, na you enter aeroplane come this Shaina for me”; and an interpreter that is busy playing both ends against the middle…
…yet this same Igbo brethren returns from this business trip to China, with a hybrid AmericaBriticoGermaAustralian accent.
Then when you who knows this my Igbo brethren from long time Imo River, approaches him to close a sale in Igbo which both of you speak at the fluency level of Amadioha+Amuma combined; he responds to you with his “forcing guy” accent.
After all he don enter place go country where “oyinbo” plenty pass our skin colour by far. If he doesn’t speak with a nasal twang, how you go take know say he sef don travel go “in the abroading”?
Park well joor.
THAT is a typical example of “forcing guy”.
Slay queens do it too, as do Abuja Big Boys.
You see a slay queen enter a restaurant on a date with some mugu she has managed to entrap off Instagram with all her heavily filtered and photoshopped pictures and short philosophical quotes, most of which were either copied off another person’s Instagram, stolen from a website, hurriedly scribbled down from a scene in a movie, or heavily edited with the assistance of their obligatory “ugly duckling yet sense wan kill am” friend; and she heads straight to the counter and orders something like “pizza, burger and ice cream”.
Hunkle who is first reeling from the shock of all that facial “foundation” that looks sufficient to hold up a ten story building; and consoling himself by thinking that if he squints a little bit and crosses both his eyes, then looks at this Instagram h-aunty with his head cocked to one side, she go resemble her cyber version smaaaalllllll; further consoles himself by thinking that maybe she is planning to eat the pizza in the restaurant, eat the ice cream in the car on their way home and have the burger for breakfast the next morning.
Unfortunately, he is about to get a rude introduction to Slay Queen Forcing Guy 101.
Haunty yells at the wait staff for not giving her “cortlaree” to eat her food and when the cutlery arrives, she proceeds to struggle to cut a piece of the burger out with her knife in her left hand and the fork in her right, hews out a little bit of the pizza with afore mentioned cortlaree, spears both pizza and burger with the fork, dips both in the ice cream and places in her mouth. Chews it small to make it malleable, then swigs a mouthful of cocacola to make it go down the throat properly.
All the while, blowing a hybrid fone – a la Bobrisky – trying to explain to you that this pizza no done like the one wey she dey chop for Iya Basira canteen for Ibadan.
Shallat to all my Ibadan girls, I see you all!
All na “forcing guy”…
You all remember I did a whole series on Abuja Big Boys (see link here…), right?
Those ones who drive all the flashy cars, deck out in sweet looking outfits, ndi “beer kank” with a full face of well groomed hair, smelling like a million dollars yet… one shishi, dem no get for pocket.
Ndi “oji amu ojiro ego”?
They do not even know where they are going to spend the night, they are hoping that as they chyke you with their well cultured baritone, speaking perfect Queen’s English with a touch of that drooly Hausa accent; you will lose control of your sense, your inhibitions and your underwear.
You will unclasp your tightly clasped thighs and invite them home for a “quickie” that will turn into one long year of him waiting for that “minister” to cash his one billion naira cheque in order for him to rent a twelve bedroom mansion with swimming pool in Asokoro and leave your one room self-contained in Kubwa for you.
They will eat your food, spray your perfume, steal your money to keep up appearances and when you look away, they will use your car to drive into town and haunt the joints where Abuja Big Girls (see link here…) hang out, on the look out for another mugu to replace you since your eyes don dey clear.
All the time, they have a one billion naira cheque, signed by the Minister of Petrochemical Affairs (ndo, you should have looked closer when you were getting carried away by their packaging) that he will cash as soon as the honorable minister returns from an official trip to Western Germany, that they quickly flash in your face when you start asking him what the 411 about this “can I spend a night” that is turning into a Siamese twin situation, is all about.
All na forcing guy.
If mugu no fall, guy man no go chop.
Anu aghogbutere ka agbara.
So, what does all these have to do with “Submission + Transmission = Confusion”?
The younger brother of “forcing guy”, is “forcing sense.” A disease that plagues most “woke” children of confusion on social media naija.
See you all next week…