Monday 10 August 2015

Carolyne Mutoko on "Mollis"

The "Mollis" conversation is tiresome. But it presents us all with an opportunity. We have been given a chance to get to grips
with the mind-numbing fact that women are still seen as objects and not as
persons. Let me get two things out of the way quickly first — Shame on any and
every woman who thought it "cute/bold/butch" to join in the filth
side of the conversation. I weep for you. Who happened to you? What did he do
to turn you into such a bottom feeder? Womanhood demands that you never throw
another woman under the bus, and never publicly. Don’t you ever cry foul if any
man who saw your pathetic stance tears into you viciously some day soon. You
have called that curse upon yourself.
As for the young men who think women are rubbish, go to your
mother and talk that filth — I dare you. Shame on you. However, I think it’s
safe to say that you are currently living with a woman who has a constant
headache or you are destined to be with one. A small secret from the world of
women: no-one has a headache that often. Headache is code for “I’m sick to the
gut of you and can’t be bothered with your clueless self today.” There! Now you
know.
My column is dedicated to our kid sisters and our young
daughters. They who must be so confused, scared and petrified as they watch and
read the nasty things we have put on display in the past week.

Dear Kid sis,
As a young woman growing up today, I can't begin
to imagine how confused you must be about what is okay about sex and
sexuality and what isn't. When were you reduced to your crotch, when did we do
away with your right as a person with the ability to decide for yourself? It
starts in high school, when you are told to do it because, well,
everyone is doing it. Sadly, in your teens, you are yet to know what you want
or how. Yet the pressure is intense.
You don't want to, you don't feel like it, but sadly in that
space, you are made to feel like an outcast if you don't.
Once you buckle under the peer pressure and do it, you hate
yourself, you turn the pain and hate inwards and sadly the idea of sex is
entrenched as horrible and dreadful in your mind for a long, long time.
If it isn't the peer pressure then there's the
"he-pressure". The myths abound: His stomach will hurt, he'll get
blue balls, he will die (like really). I'm glad I had a mother who told me
outright that no-one, not a single documented case exists of a man who died
because he didn't have sex with a young girl. Let me fess up kid sis,
I wasn't one to take everything my mum said as gospel truth, but two things
worked for me.
My mortal fear of my mum and watching my peers who did do
'the deed" spiral into despair and worse. I grew up in South B, I can
admit today that back then, I envied those girls who the boys
preferred because they weren't "mean". Back then I was made to feel
bad because "Caroline wa Valley Road anatunyima".
But my envy turned into pity within weeks. Those same boys
turned nasty and shunned those same girls within the space of a school term.
Those same boys came back to me and said "at least you're not like
her." Those same boys sniggered and giggled when that girl walked past and
hissed at her as she hang her head in shame. Those same boys fled when she got
pregnant and joined in the nasty gossip about her in the estate. So maybe I
didn't really listen to Mum, but I watched the world around me keenly and
learnt.
Between us, I went to university still a virgin. Looking back,
thank goodness I waited.
Having sex is
about choice, your choice, your timing, not your friends'
timing or a boy’s timing. This is a lesson you must learn today and carry
with you through life.
My little sister, you don't have to do anything you don't want
to do. Forget blue balls and stories about death. Today you live in a
scary world, where betrayal is a digital device away. Your choice and your
voice must matter. The guy you want to be with in your early 20s is the one who
values your consent in every way. This is the guy who would never secretly
record you. I've said this before, young love shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't hurt
your head, your heart or your mind.
The primal instinct of any man, any real man, is to protect. Have
your ever seen little boys trying to protect their Mums? They can be five years
old and they will stand between their mum and perceived danger. It's instinct.
God doesn't make mistakes — men come wired genetically to protect. The guy you
want in your life is the one who seeks to protect your character, to protect
your heart and of course your body.  When you meet one who doesn't protect
your heart, your mind, your body and your name, your character, run!
Kid sis, I'm not done yet. If you survive university or your
college years without having your self-esteem broken into a million little
pieces. If you survive those years between 20 and 24 without being reduced to
an angry girl who uses a "don't care" attitude to cover for the hurt
inside, then you're fine.
If you didn't survive high school or college without that
hot angry and pain that makes it almost hard to cry, if you are finally crying
as you read this, wipe your tears and make a decision to take back your body.
Don't you know precious you are? You are a treasure. You are precious. As a
woman there is nothing finer than you and what you have to offer when you are
whole. Kingdoms have crumpled at the feet of women, thrones and titles have
been abdicated for women, wars have been fought over women my dear girl — that's how valuable you are.
I see you reading this, thinking “Me? Precious?” Yes, you.
Baby girl, we have done you wrong as women and men of a certain
generation. We have given you the impression that you are worth nothing. We
have given you shocking double speak. We seek to empower you in talk shops and
seminars, yet we tell you that you can't make a decision about your life, your
thoughts or your body.
It’s criminal. The narrative we have given you is nasty.
The messages we have sent you are not just confusing, they are detrimental:
  • You must be thin — but you need a big behind to go
    with that. Men like big butts.
  • You must be very sexy — but don't be a slut.
  • You must want to have sex — your feelings or say is
    totally irrelevant.
  • You must be promiscuous but not slutty — If you sleep
    around we'll call you names. If you don't we'll still call you names. Go figure!
  • You must show off your body; men want to see it — but
    be prepared to be called a slut and objectified by everyone including other
    women. 
  • You must be available to men — all men. Small runny
    nose types with weak limbs and croaking types the age of your grandfather. But note,
    we will spit at you for it all the same. However, if you choose not to be
    available, we will call you names and shame you into being a slut.
  • You must accept advancements made by men — doesn't
    matter who they are. Watchies, cab drivers, makangas, your juniors at work.
    Accept and be happy. There's an ugly chick not getting any attention. Your
    decision and your consent are irrelevant.
  • You must learn how to manipulate clothing to improve
    your breasts and ass. Men need something to look at. Why are you being mean?
    But please note, we will penalise you for it. We will put all your achievements
    down to your tits and ass.
  • You must give up your interests, your ambitions and
    even your opinions to be an object of desire.
  • However be warned, that after we have reduced you to a 'thin-big
    butt-slut-in-sexy attire-who is-promiscuous and to whom all and any advances
    can be made to
    . Once we have reduced you to nothing but a joke and a
    meme, we expect you to be a great mother.

But there is hope. All is not lost. Look through social media
and you’ll see that the people speaking loudest against the objectifying of
women are men. Men of your generation. Men under 35. The majority of men over
35 who dare to state that women are precious are ridiculed by women (gasp)
and a few wimpish males who aren't worth the air they breathe.
Through the clutter of nasty conflicting sexualised messages out
there, you know where true north is. Seek it. Follow it.
If you remember nothing else, know this: if
your life means so little to you that
you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to
him? He can't value you more than you value yourself. No-one can.
- See more at: http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/letter-my-younger-sisters#sthash.6h0EviId.dpuf

The "Mollis" conversation is tiresome. But it presents us all with an opportunity. We have been given a chance to get to grips
with the mind-numbing fact that women are still seen as objects and not as
persons. Let me get two things out of the way quickly first — Shame on any and
every woman who thought it "cute/bold/butch" to join in the filth
side of the conversation. I weep for you. Who happened to you? What did he do
to turn you into such a bottom feeder? Womanhood demands that you never throw
another woman under the bus, and never publicly. Don’t you ever cry foul if any
man who saw your pathetic stance tears into you viciously some day soon. You
have called that curse upon yourself.
As for the young men who think women are rubbish, go to your
mother and talk that filth — I dare you. Shame on you. However, I think it’s
safe to say that you are currently living with a woman who has a constant
headache or you are destined to be with one. A small secret from the world of
women: no-one has a headache that often. Headache is code for “I’m sick to the
gut of you and can’t be bothered with your clueless self today.” There! Now you
know.
My column is dedicated to our kid sisters and our young
daughters. They who must be so confused, scared and petrified as they watch and
read the nasty things we have put on display in the past week.

Dear Kid sis,
As a young woman growing up today, I can't begin
to imagine how confused you must be about what is okay about sex and
sexuality and what isn't. When were you reduced to your crotch, when did we do
away with your right as a person with the ability to decide for yourself? It
starts in high school, when you are told to do it because, well,
everyone is doing it. Sadly, in your teens, you are yet to know what you want
or how. Yet the pressure is intense.
You don't want to, you don't feel like it, but sadly in that
space, you are made to feel like an outcast if you don't.
Once you buckle under the peer pressure and do it, you hate
yourself, you turn the pain and hate inwards and sadly the idea of sex is
entrenched as horrible and dreadful in your mind for a long, long time.
If it isn't the peer pressure then there's the
"he-pressure". The myths abound: His stomach will hurt, he'll get
blue balls, he will die (like really). I'm glad I had a mother who told me
outright that no-one, not a single documented case exists of a man who died
because he didn't have sex with a young girl. Let me fess up kid sis,
I wasn't one to take everything my mum said as gospel truth, but two things
worked for me.
My mortal fear of my mum and watching my peers who did do
'the deed" spiral into despair and worse. I grew up in South B, I can
admit today that back then, I envied those girls who the boys
preferred because they weren't "mean". Back then I was made to feel
bad because "Caroline wa Valley Road anatunyima".
But my envy turned into pity within weeks. Those same boys
turned nasty and shunned those same girls within the space of a school term.
Those same boys came back to me and said "at least you're not like
her." Those same boys sniggered and giggled when that girl walked past and
hissed at her as she hang her head in shame. Those same boys fled when she got
pregnant and joined in the nasty gossip about her in the estate. So maybe I
didn't really listen to Mum, but I watched the world around me keenly and
learnt.
Between us, I went to university still a virgin. Looking back,
thank goodness I waited.
Having sex is
about choice, your choice, your timing, not your friends'
timing or a boy’s timing. This is a lesson you must learn today and carry
with you through life.
My little sister, you don't have to do anything you don't want
to do. Forget blue balls and stories about death. Today you live in a
scary world, where betrayal is a digital device away. Your choice and your
voice must matter. The guy you want to be with in your early 20s is the one who
values your consent in every way. This is the guy who would never secretly
record you. I've said this before, young love shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't hurt
your head, your heart or your mind.
The primal instinct of any man, any real man, is to protect. Have
your ever seen little boys trying to protect their Mums? They can be five years
old and they will stand between their mum and perceived danger. It's instinct.
God doesn't make mistakes — men come wired genetically to protect. The guy you
want in your life is the one who seeks to protect your character, to protect
your heart and of course your body.  When you meet one who doesn't protect
your heart, your mind, your body and your name, your character, run!
Kid sis, I'm not done yet. If you survive university or your
college years without having your self-esteem broken into a million little
pieces. If you survive those years between 20 and 24 without being reduced to
an angry girl who uses a "don't care" attitude to cover for the hurt
inside, then you're fine.
If you didn't survive high school or college without that
hot angry and pain that makes it almost hard to cry, if you are finally crying
as you read this, wipe your tears and make a decision to take back your body.
Don't you know precious you are? You are a treasure. You are precious. As a
woman there is nothing finer than you and what you have to offer when you are
whole. Kingdoms have crumpled at the feet of women, thrones and titles have
been abdicated for women, wars have been fought over women my dear girl — that's how valuable you are.
I see you reading this, thinking “Me? Precious?” Yes, you.
Baby girl, we have done you wrong as women and men of a certain
generation. We have given you the impression that you are worth nothing. We
have given you shocking double speak. We seek to empower you in talk shops and
seminars, yet we tell you that you can't make a decision about your life, your
thoughts or your body.
It’s criminal. The narrative we have given you is nasty.
The messages we have sent you are not just confusing, they are detrimental:
  • You must be thin — but you need a big behind to go
    with that. Men like big butts.
  • You must be very sexy — but don't be a slut.
  • You must want to have sex — your feelings or say is
    totally irrelevant.
  • You must be promiscuous but not slutty — If you sleep
    around we'll call you names. If you don't we'll still call you names. Go figure!
  • You must show off your body; men want to see it — but
    be prepared to be called a slut and objectified by everyone including other
    women. 
  • You must be available to men — all men. Small runny
    nose types with weak limbs and croaking types the age of your grandfather. But note,
    we will spit at you for it all the same. However, if you choose not to be
    available, we will call you names and shame you into being a slut.
  • You must accept advancements made by men — doesn't
    matter who they are. Watchies, cab drivers, makangas, your juniors at work.
    Accept and be happy. There's an ugly chick not getting any attention. Your
    decision and your consent are irrelevant.
  • You must learn how to manipulate clothing to improve
    your breasts and ass. Men need something to look at. Why are you being mean?
    But please note, we will penalise you for it. We will put all your achievements
    down to your tits and ass.
  • You must give up your interests, your ambitions and
    even your opinions to be an object of desire.
  • However be warned, that after we have reduced you to a 'thin-big
    butt-slut-in-sexy attire-who is-promiscuous and to whom all and any advances
    can be made to
    . Once we have reduced you to nothing but a joke and a
    meme, we expect you to be a great mother.

But there is hope. All is not lost. Look through social media
and you’ll see that the people speaking loudest against the objectifying of
women are men. Men of your generation. Men under 35. The majority of men over
35 who dare to state that women are precious are ridiculed by women (gasp)
and a few wimpish males who aren't worth the air they breathe.
Through the clutter of nasty conflicting sexualised messages out
there, you know where true north is. Seek it. Follow it.
If you remember nothing else, know this: if
your life means so little to you that
you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to
him? He can't value you more than you value yourself. No-one can.
- See more at: http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/letter-my-younger-sisters#sthash.6h0EviId.dpuf
The "Mollis" conversation is tiresome. But it presents us all with an opportunity. We have been given a chance to get to grips
with the mind-numbing fact that women are still seen as objects and not as
persons. Let me get two things out of the way quickly first — Shame on any and
every woman who thought it "cute/bold/butch" to join in the filth
side of the conversation. I weep for you. Who happened to you? What did he do
to turn you into such a bottom feeder? Womanhood demands that you never throw
another woman under the bus, and never publicly. Don’t you ever cry foul if any
man who saw your pathetic stance tears into you viciously some day soon. You
have called that curse upon yourself.
As for the young men who think women are rubbish, go to your
mother and talk that filth — I dare you. Shame on you. However, I think it’s
safe to say that you are currently living with a woman who has a constant
headache or you are destined to be with one. A small secret from the world of
women: no-one has a headache that often. Headache is code for “I’m sick to the
gut of you and can’t be bothered with your clueless self today.” There! Now you
know.
My column is dedicated to our kid sisters and our young
daughters. They who must be so confused, scared and petrified as they watch and
read the nasty things we have put on display in the past week.

Dear Kid sis,
As a young woman growing up today, I can't begin
to imagine how confused you must be about what is okay about sex and
sexuality and what isn't. When were you reduced to your crotch, when did we do
away with your right as a person with the ability to decide for yourself? It
starts in high school, when you are told to do it because, well,
everyone is doing it. Sadly, in your teens, you are yet to know what you want
or how. Yet the pressure is intense.
You don't want to, you don't feel like it, but sadly in that
space, you are made to feel like an outcast if you don't.
Once you buckle under the peer pressure and do it, you hate
yourself, you turn the pain and hate inwards and sadly the idea of sex is
entrenched as horrible and dreadful in your mind for a long, long time.
If it isn't the peer pressure then there's the
"he-pressure". The myths abound: His stomach will hurt, he'll get
blue balls, he will die (like really). I'm glad I had a mother who told me
outright that no-one, not a single documented case exists of a man who died
because he didn't have sex with a young girl. Let me fess up kid sis,
I wasn't one to take everything my mum said as gospel truth, but two things
worked for me.
My mortal fear of my mum and watching my peers who did do
'the deed" spiral into despair and worse. I grew up in South B, I can
admit today that back then, I envied those girls who the boys
preferred because they weren't "mean". Back then I was made to feel
bad because "Caroline wa Valley Road anatunyima".
But my envy turned into pity within weeks. Those same boys
turned nasty and shunned those same girls within the space of a school term.
Those same boys came back to me and said "at least you're not like
her." Those same boys sniggered and giggled when that girl walked past and
hissed at her as she hang her head in shame. Those same boys fled when she got
pregnant and joined in the nasty gossip about her in the estate. So maybe I
didn't really listen to Mum, but I watched the world around me keenly and
learnt.
Between us, I went to university still a virgin. Looking back,
thank goodness I waited.
Having sex is
about choice, your choice, your timing, not your friends'
timing or a boy’s timing. This is a lesson you must learn today and carry
with you through life.
My little sister, you don't have to do anything you don't want
to do. Forget blue balls and stories about death. Today you live in a
scary world, where betrayal is a digital device away. Your choice and your
voice must matter. The guy you want to be with in your early 20s is the one who
values your consent in every way. This is the guy who would never secretly
record you. I've said this before, young love shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't hurt
your head, your heart or your mind.
The primal instinct of any man, any real man, is to protect. Have
your ever seen little boys trying to protect their Mums? They can be five years
old and they will stand between their mum and perceived danger. It's instinct.
God doesn't make mistakes — men come wired genetically to protect. The guy you
want in your life is the one who seeks to protect your character, to protect
your heart and of course your body.  When you meet one who doesn't protect
your heart, your mind, your body and your name, your character, run!
Kid sis, I'm not done yet. If you survive university or your
college years without having your self-esteem broken into a million little
pieces. If you survive those years between 20 and 24 without being reduced to
an angry girl who uses a "don't care" attitude to cover for the hurt
inside, then you're fine.
If you didn't survive high school or college without that
hot angry and pain that makes it almost hard to cry, if you are finally crying
as you read this, wipe your tears and make a decision to take back your body.
Don't you know precious you are? You are a treasure. You are precious. As a
woman there is nothing finer than you and what you have to offer when you are
whole. Kingdoms have crumpled at the feet of women, thrones and titles have
been abdicated for women, wars have been fought over women my dear girl — that's how valuable you are.
I see you reading this, thinking “Me? Precious?” Yes, you.
Baby girl, we have done you wrong as women and men of a certain
generation. We have given you the impression that you are worth nothing. We
have given you shocking double speak. We seek to empower you in talk shops and
seminars, yet we tell you that you can't make a decision about your life, your
thoughts or your body.
It’s criminal. The narrative we have given you is nasty.
The messages we have sent you are not just confusing, they are detrimental:
  • You must be thin — but you need a big behind to go
    with that. Men like big butts.
  • You must be very sexy — but don't be a slut.
  • You must want to have sex — your feelings or say is
    totally irrelevant.
  • You must be promiscuous but not slutty — If you sleep
    around we'll call you names. If you don't we'll still call you names. Go figure!
  • You must show off your body; men want to see it — but
    be prepared to be called a slut and objectified by everyone including other
    women. 
  • You must be available to men — all men. Small runny
    nose types with weak limbs and croaking types the age of your grandfather. But note,
    we will spit at you for it all the same. However, if you choose not to be
    available, we will call you names and shame you into being a slut.
  • You must accept advancements made by men — doesn't
    matter who they are. Watchies, cab drivers, makangas, your juniors at work.
    Accept and be happy. There's an ugly chick not getting any attention. Your
    decision and your consent are irrelevant.
  • You must learn how to manipulate clothing to improve
    your breasts and ass. Men need something to look at. Why are you being mean?
    But please note, we will penalise you for it. We will put all your achievements
    down to your tits and ass.
  • You must give up your interests, your ambitions and
    even your opinions to be an object of desire.
  • However be warned, that after we have reduced you to a 'thin-big
    butt-slut-in-sexy attire-who is-promiscuous and to whom all and any advances
    can be made to
    . Once we have reduced you to nothing but a joke and a
    meme, we expect you to be a great mother.

But there is hope. All is not lost. Look through social media
and you’ll see that the people speaking loudest against the objectifying of
women are men. Men of your generation. Men under 35. The majority of men over
35 who dare to state that women are precious are ridiculed by women (gasp)
and a few wimpish males who aren't worth the air they breathe.
Through the clutter of nasty conflicting sexualised messages out
there, you know where true north is. Seek it. Follow it.
If you remember nothing else, know this: if
your life means so little to you that
you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to
him? He can't value you more than you value yourself. No-one can.
- See more at: http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/letter-my-younger-sisters#sthash.6h0EviId.dpuf

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