THE WAY TO AN AFRICAN MAN’S HEART
My Dear Future Husband,
Because of you, my plans for this Saturday have been disrupted. I wanted to go to work in the morning, meet up my girlfriends at the mall in the afternoon, and catch a movie with my best friend in the evening and head back home before my parents lock the gate at 8:30 pm.Unfortunately for me, I am spending the day in the kitchen learning how to prepare your favorite meals (palm nut soup and its counterparts).
This was preceded by the fact that, my parents told me last week that I was not in the habit of staying at home. I worked tirelessly from Monday to Saturday and spent the greater part of Sunday in church. They stated that they knew very successful women who had maid servants doing everything for them .These women knew nothing about household management and were having serious marital problems.
My father went on further to say that, if I got married and did not know these things; “they” wouldn’t blame him but my mother. Oh, poor mother!!!
My Dear Husband, I am not complaining at all. It’s just that I didn’t know my sole purpose on this earth was to become a loving wife who was dedicated preparing meals for you, washing your clothes, waiting on you to take all decisions, keeping your bed warm and saying “Yes My Lord “to everything you asked.
Sweetheart, I am very “booklong” you see to the extent that I cook my meals from cookbooks. “Allow me ooh” I love trying foreign recipes (I’m sure your mother will not be happy if she sees me doing this and will conclude that I do not know how to do anything ).I know if you even decide to help me once in a while in the kitchen, your friends will laugh at you.
But Honey, you see, I love eating and I definitely know how to cook what I eat. This is the 21st century, I am an ambitious woman and you are not going to stop me from pursuing my dreams because you want me at home or will wait for me after a hard day’s work to cook for you because that is my role. As for fufu, you may have to divorce me because I will not expend my energy on this cumbersome process of having my hands go through every bit of the cassava and plantain at the risk of having my beautifully manicured fingers pounded away( I actually know a lady who is fingerless right now, can you imagine?)
If you don’t like neat fufu, I suggest you learn how to pound during courtship. Consider the fact that you will even end up losing your six pack because of this fufu and beer business.
Sugar in my coco, butter in my bread, I love you and respect you and will honor you till the end. But please do not enter into this marriage contract hoping that I will be the traditional Ghanaian wife because, times have changed, so please evolve to meet the changing roles of husband and wife of this generation.
XOXO,Your future wife.
(who is seriously contemplating an inter-racial marriage).