Nigerians aren’t so keen on South Africans and the feeling is mutual. Go online, especially the South African tourist handles; Nigerians are raining curses on their fellow ‘blecks’ and the Southies are hitting back harder; they seem to single us and the Zimbabweans out for xenophobic attacks.
But this gist isn’t about hate, we have too much of that in the world already. Let’s talk love, you know the love handles of South African women.
By love handles, I mean the South African women’s broad hips and massive bums to boot! I swear, South African women have the widest hips and biggest bums in the whole of Africa.
No, strike that, make it, the whole world!
Yep, and I think it’s in their water!
The women of South Africa seem to be engaged in a never ending hip/bum competition. It’s amazing!
During my last visit early in the year, I kept marveling at the amazing structural formation of the South African woman; by these, I mean the ‘blecks’. Many of them appear slim out front but then something else seems to happen from their waist down. The hips flare out as if in anger and the bums expand in amazing ways such that outsiders like me can’t reconcile the symmetry of the upper body with the lower half!
For me, it was the proverbial hard pill to swallow. See me, a Yoruba woman whose people are known to have the biggest bums in Nigeria. I can count on all my fingers and toes and borrow from you, Yoruba women with bum sizes that will leave you gaping. They say it’s a Yoruba thing but don’t ask me why my bum is flat. I must have been missing when the bum sharing thing was going on.
Anyway, back to the South African belles.
So there I was, gaping from one female to another, wondering what they were eating or drinking to give them such dangerous and mind-provoking figures. I was still pondering on it when my son, the reason I went there in the first place, began to chat with a young girl at the college campus. She had all the regular statistics I have earlier described.
This boy is looking for trouble!
We were still sorting out his academics and seeing him talking to a girl was just not ringing the right bells in my head. I wanted to cuff him as I watched him bounce from one toe to another (he walks on tiptoes like me).
In my mind, I was like, ‘soooo, this is what you will be doing when my back is turned, abi? You will be chatting up all the girls on campus and you will not be reading your books? Is that what I sent you to school to do?’
But I said sweetly, for the girl’s sake, ‘Let’s get going, we still have a few more documents to process.” And as soon as we were out of earshot, I fired off rapid hot Yoruba words, like the Nigerian mother I have become, Omo eleyi ti o ju fun e o. (kid, this one is too much for you, o)
‘Huh?’ He said, looking confused.
‘Yes, all of those massive hips and bum compared to your frail frame, how you gon manage that?’ I waved my hands wide to give the right impression.
He still looked lost.
I switched to English, “I don’t want babies, you are in school for serious business, I don’t want trouble with some southie boyfriend and I am too young to be a grandma, ok?’
He rolled his eyes as the meaning of my words hit.
“I have said my own!”
“Mum, I was just having a conversation about the school…”
“Ehen! That’s how it starts…”
“Ha, issokay, I have said my own, o.” With that, I marched ahead, feigning annoyance. These children should not put me in trouble o!
But let’s face it sha, South African women take the cake jare, Yoruba women have nothing on you, joo.