The heading of this post sounds kinda confusing, abi? Please bear with me and continue reading; per chance there will be some clarity at the end…*fingers crossed*.
So … A lot of us girls when growing up were taught about the sanctity of womanhood. You know what I mean…keep them guessing, sit with your legs closed, your breasts are not for public viewing, no frontal huggings-always hug with your sides (God forbid that a man should feel your breasts)…things like that. To even say the “V” word was like committing fornication. The “P” word? Don’t just go there!
If only we knew then what we now know as women, wives and mothers…I am sure we would have rolled our eyeballs and gone yeah right!
Just the other day while preparing for the taping of my TV show; I went into the dressing room to change and a female news anchor was there just lounging. She made to get up so as to afford me some privacy…and I was like abegii sit down jore …is there anything I have you haven’t seen or don’t have? Which, by the way is the truth…in case you were wondering?
Anyway we laughed over it and she sat back down while we regaled ourselves with stories of some indecent exposures we have been made to endure as women especially during pregnancy – she is also a mother. It got me thinking…even though we laughed about it I was like come oh…this one na serious matter.
When I was in labor for my first child, I didn’t want to be caught off-guard. I went in prepared. I had a specially made gown I was saving for that particular moment, I managed to rub some powder and put something on my lips. Even though mummy kept telling me in the background it was all uneccessary. My typically stubborn self did not listen ooo.On arrival the nurses took one look at me and comments such as ‘ehn ehn see model oh’, ‘wetin you come do here sef’, ‘eyaaa this one na JJC’, ‘hahahaha you will soon be begging us to remove your clothes for you’ and many others just rolled off my back. Na them sabi…I was going to be perfect!
I was in a private room, so I just sashayed into it and prepared to welcome my perfect baby with all the dignity my early labor pangs gave me. I remember how reluctant I was to even open my legs for the midwife to check how far dilated I was. What an invasion of my privacy! If only I knew!!!
People…nobody and nothing could have prepared me for the events that next unfolded. One moment I was Miss Prim and Proper the next moment I was Miss Doggy on my hands and knees stark naked screaming blue murder. Only God knows what happened to my “customized” gown. Mummy tried to salvage whatever primness remained (as if). I was going to have none of it. Didn’t she see this matter was beyond the wrapper? The nurse on duty took one look at me laughed and said ‘ahhhh model where the pancake na’…if only eyes could kill!
After the whole process, my perfect baby arrived and I passed out from sheer exhaustion right there on the birthing bed. When I came to… there were about 9 or 10 people gathered around me taking notes and looking in to my…. OMG!!! Yeah you guessed right…My legs were wide open. Jeeeeeeezeeeeez. Apparently I had had an episiotomy (it was a teaching hospital in case you still hadn’t guessed by now). The mortification of it all. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended I was still asleep. For every word I heard spoken; i cringed in shame. The moment the crowd moved on I opened my eyes and tried to sit up, I needed to get the hell out of there before another set came in; I am nobody’s guinea pig … but before I could even raise my neck…I heard a voice congratulating me on my son…I looked up and saw an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in years since Kano. She apparently is a doctor at the hospital and she had run into mummy who told her the good news so she came to say hi…note my legs were still spread-eagled oh… choiii my life oh! At this point I just gave up, I was still weak anyway; and proceeded to have the most awkward casual chit chat of my life.
The point to my very “personal” narrative is this, and it is a message to ALL women. There is nothing private about you oh! God designed our bodies to be intruded. You don’t believe me?
Think about it. Tampons. Sex. Cervical examinations. Sex. Pap smears. Sex. Birth controls. Sex. Pregnancy. Sex. Delivery. Sex. And sex … again
Who are we kidding? All the shakara we do…all the coyness…[sometimes we even go all out and enlist the help of designer lingerie and professional waxing]…last for just a short while before we have to either by choice or by circumstance engage in acts that are a consequence of our physical design.
A show of hands for those women who feel that for most of the “free show” we have to give we have been cheated. We should have been forewarned while growing up about these instances…it would have saved us the shock effect of discovery.
We can cover up all we want…inside us we know what we are – either privately public or publicly private beings…a matter of perception really. Are your “privates” known publicly or privately? Hahaha
And you know what the catch is? There is NO frigging difference between a beauty pageant queen and a nun. At the end of it all we still have to bend to our physical design. (Pun well intended ooo)
Our “privates” are essentially public. Whether we like it or not. Whether we want it or not. And we all look the same. Go on. Do your research. Ask a doctor. Or a male escort. There is no mystery…but therein lies the mystery. Right?
Good to know! Up yours Beyonce…lol