THE DISENCHANTED "VISITORS"

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI They came quite stealthily towards me, as I slowly savoured my drink at my favourite spot at this joint. Their collective, nigh-menacing tread on the probe made me more alert. There were three of them; all male; now they moved towards me, and I could see that the one in front was holding a newspaper; the small South African paper I edited! The ambience that surrounded the men ineluctably showed that they were none too pleased with me. Their greeting – if it could be called that – was perfunctory. The man in the lead, a wiry man with a lugubrious expression waved the paper at me and said: “You are the editor of this paper?” I nodded as we all knew I was anyway – “You read everything that is published here. Even the columns,” I nodded again and the man went on: “So you are well aware of this column; the one writing about so-called feminine matters. Flutters or whatever it is called. You also edit it...read everything written there,” I grinned and said proudly: “Of course. I gave the lady columnist the chance to write the column. Intelligent lady, isn’t she? Writes quite well...” The three men stared at me as if I was crazy. The wiry one said: “So you agree with all these bad things she writes about men, all this unfair, self-centred rubbish. As the editor, you have the power to remove some of the terrible stuff she writes but here you are even praising her! What type of man are you, Ntate?” I said: “Surely you know about freedom of speech. This is not a banana republic. You’ve heard of fair comment too. It’s just a column, a personal piece. How can that cause you anguish? Don’t say the three of you are here threatening me just because of a column!” “We are not threatening you, Ntate,” another of the men said, a placid, long-suffering expression on his face. “But surely you can see what this woman columnist is writing is so unfair and cruel to men many times. For how long should we continue to suffer so much because of women, and after it all they still go around saying bad things about us, and even publishing it.” He drew a breath. “I have just left jail...because of a woman I suffered so much for who ensured I went to prison in the end...she just used me...” “What has that got to do with the woman’s column?” I enquired. Their “leader”, the wiry one, now said heatedly: “It is an indication of how much they – women – cheat men. Look what your columnist wrote here -“ he showed me. “She says all women feel used after men make love to them. What an insult to men! So what do we gain from them? We spend all our lives serving them, trying to please them, and the family. We have to endure all their tricks and manipulations. Greed. Lies. Complaints every time. Overflowing debts. Now we learn that love-making, which to put it brutally is the only real thing we benefit from them, makes them feel used!” The third man spoke at last. “Really Ntate, you must not give women platform to say these bad things about us. They can make life so intolerable for us but still blame us for everything in the end, even when we are vicious victims. Really, you can’t encourage things like this in these days when life is bad for majority of men,” I smiled at them. “There is a very simple way out of this matter, gentlemen,” “What?” I grinned. “If she upsets you so much, do NOT read the lady’s column again,” i suggested, studiously going back to my drink.