LETTER TO WHITE MEN...

By Tanoe Michael Nah on fb - Liberia

Dear white men, U asked us to wear coats under hot sun, we did;

U said we should speak your language, we have obediently ignored ours.

U asked us to always tie a rope around our necks like goats, we have obeyed without questioning.

U asked our ladies to wear dead people's hair instead of the natural hair God gave to them, they have obeyed.

U said we should marry just one woman in the midst of
plenty black angels, we reluctantly agreed.

You said our decent girls should wear catapults instead of
the conventional pants, they have obeyed.

You asked us to use rubber in order to control our birth rate,
we agreed.....

Now U want our MEN to sleep with fellow MEN & WOMEN
with fellow WOMEN so that God would punish us like Sodom
and Gomora? We say No!!

We don't agree with U this time! Proudly African, we say a
huge NO to GAY relationships and LESBIAN.

~Robert Mugabe

Virgins at the village evening market - the Nigerian situation!

It is that time and season again. Everywhere is a beehive of activities. We are being tantalized and titillated. They are whispering the sweetest things in our ticklish ears and promising us they will love us forever. Or haven't you heard them? Of course, you have. It's like the evening market in the village. The village damsels are all powdered and smelling nice. Their wrappers are tied in ways that show off their well rounded backsides. They bare their youthful skin, their necks tilted at angles that leave the men panting.

When young men go to evening market, it is not to buy vegetable or local seasoning. It is usually because their libido is running wild. Their blood is hot, their loins burning, seeking to be assuaged by a damsel's you-know-what. Somehow, most of the maidens you see in this market are also not here to buy pepper or dry fish. They have, most times, left home without their mothers' consent, sneaking through the back into the dark. They also want to spread their wings and experiment. The girls enjoy the sweet lines the boys are armed with. Away from the flickering light of the oil lamp, they sneak into darker corners to nurse their desires. Under the cover of the night, far from the real buying and selling, the young men sell their lies. A few young gullible girls drink to their hearts' content the dripping honey-coated lies, moaning until the mourning morning after. A few maiden heads have been reported broken in those couple of hours.

The hot loin cooled , the man goes home grinning like the cat who got the milk. And indeed, didn't he? The virgin sneaks back in, confused, close to tears, wondering if she hadn't sold her honour and future for a few minutes of indescribable ecstasy.