A good chic is that Nigerian woman who sees that you are not Aliko Dangote yet respects your values. She can tell that you have no money in the bank yet she loves you sincerely. A good chic adores you, introduces your pathetic self to her friends as her life while you wallow in confusion. My advice is; cease being confused, brother; that lady is just being a good chic. Angels could be on earth you know.
My great-grandfather would tell me that; only a caring woman comes to you when you are on the farm, not minding whether your harvest would be a disgrace or bountiful. Traitors watch from afar, when they see the heavy harvest they cheer and sing out their lungs. Chai. Life is pathetically awesome with funny elements!
Good chics, these special ladies are rare to find, especially in Nigeria. While most Nigerian women would request for your genealogy to see if your papa, your great-grandpapa was broke or had any trace of poverty, a good chic looks into your eyes and sees the future therein. A good chic provides reasons for the good future. Every man needs a good chic.
There are certain experts in Nigeria, now, who dig up your dirty past as well as unveil your poverty lineage to the world. Some vicious ladies consult these experts. Crazy. But does a broke-ass boyfriend have a value aside what a caring girlfriend offers? I shall leave your girlfriend to do the answering.
Nigerian men are real dreamers. We dream daily. We are never restricted. We dream while we are in the bathroom. We dream while we are struggling to feed. We dream while in a relationship. We dream every time. Women actualize their dreams. At least it seems so. A man may like his girlfriend or spouse and would be thinking about the best treatment in his heart. Maybe be a night-out at the prestigious Obudu Cattle Ranch. But it is always a dream. Only a few men actualize such dream. I am definitely not one of them
My girlfriend is a good chic and I am the stupid boyfriend. How compactable. I request for permission before I sneeze. It is important. Hahaha. We pick fights oh, we shake the four squares of the earth with our fights but the good chic never leaves my side. She is that woman who doesn’t care about my bloody beer belly. My girlfriend is the strongest woman on earth. Yes, shoot me! She is like my mother, she never gives up. My mother has had a tougher time with my father. But they never parted.
At some point I doubted that anything romance worked in black Africa. Our literature had no romance. It painted the African woman as a property bought and kept at the possession of the owner. Even her love is restricted to sex. Most of us grew up to believe that the best love we can render is sex. How dumb. Sex is never love and would not be any sooner. I mean, a lover may give you sex but does that make the latter the first?
I lead a simple and broke life. No girl ever comes to me except those few ladies who sit next to me in the classroom or a few others who read my writings and guessed I would be a big boy. Dreamers! Only big boys are liable to be loved these days.
There have been tougher times in my relationship when we hit the rock really hard but my chic serves as a seatbelt. I have been the most awkward boyfriend ever. Which writer isn’t? Our muses are crazy elements only seen by the bigger Man who sits above the realm of human understanding.
When you have a woman who have enough faith in you there is little room for failure. You shit, she cleans it up, dresses you up and tell the world that you are what she wants. How explicitly awesome is that.
The act of writing is a bloody silly one. When you write from Nigeria especially, you are as well a mad man who lives by sheer luck or grace. But my girlfriend likes me. Even when the world boils and trembles I cross my legs, sip some beer and belch. I know she would not kick me out; after all I am a stupid boyfriend.
ARTICLE BY NWILO BURA-BARI VINCENT