Day 5: 5 Things That Irritate Me About the Opposite Sex

Day 5: 5 Things That Irritate Me About the Opposite Sex

There is a whole list of things I could rant about regarding men and the ways in which they choose to spend their days on earth. But now that this challenge has limited the number only to five, I had to pick the ones that top my list. And no, this doesn’t mean I hate men in any way. And also, if you feel the need to pull the ‘not all men’ remark on this post, the shoe might just be fitting you in the perfect way.


This morning, my friend and I were walking to the matatu stage when this group of nduthi guys see us and start talking while motioning towards us. I cannot say they were talking about us because their murmurs were inaudible, but their constant motioning towards us said something about them. As we approached, one of them asked their common ‘unaenda?’ question, to which we politely declined, unlike those other days we said ‘tunaenda lakini sio na wewe’. And the guys went on to utter obscenities at us, saying how we pretended to go to work yet we couldn’t afford a bike ride, saying how we are sleeping around to get our bills paid, culminating it in a whistle, saying something about our behinds being too small we could fit on a single bike.

Quite some nerve!

I will not talk about the times I have seen a group of guys ahead of me, faked a phone call and turned around walking in the opposite direction. Neither will I talk about the time I have plugged my headphones, pretending to play music in the highest volume, at the same time absorbing the unwelcome comments hurled at me.

And no, I will not talk about the times I have missed a step or two because the men staring right down at me would not even pretend to look away when we made eye contact; or the number of times we are shamed for wearing too short a dress, or for wearing a too tight pair of trousers. Sometimes, we even get called for wearing a dress that is too long; or for wearing our hair in an afro puff.

I will however talk about the number of times I have actually been cat-called, stopped in my tracks and faced whoever was calling me.

Me: Yes. Sema sasa niskie.

Them: Haiya, kumbe unaweza itikia?

Me: What were you expecting? Me to turn into a pillar of salt?

Them: Sina ubaya dada.

Now is probably a bad time to go all sister on me!

Me: You were saying?

And they will walk away, muttering all manner of apologies as if I were Jesus and the world was coming to an abrupt end.

I don’t know about you, but these are one on the worst cowards I have ever come across. They massage their egos and nurse their bleeding souls when in a group. They are the loudest when travelling in a pack, but the moment they are left alone, they shrink back into their pockets.

So, dear men, next time you think of cat – calling a lady, walk down to them and say what is on your mind. Who knows, she might be feeling your vibe and has been waiting on you for so long.

The Butt – Crack

You see those times when you are stretching out after a long day? Or those other times when you are trying to be romantic so you want to change the light bulb for us? Or those times when you board an overcrowded matatu and you have to seek support from the overhead rail? Or when you are bending over to pick something from the ground? Or even tying your shoelaces?

Yes, those are the times your not-so-appealing butt cracks get to see the light. I mean, we understand you do not mean to sag your trousers, and we would like to imagine that your belt has just refused to cooperate even after making an extra hole on it. But then again, who wants to see an ashy butt crack, darker than black with the slightest glimpse of hair in the morning? Definitely not me.

And yes, we understand that it is not your fault we find ourselves right behind you when all these happen, so we have to suddenly look away and pretend we saw nothing absurd with you.

So next time, please do better. Wear great boxers. Or wear something you can easily tuck in. Or if it gets worse, use some Vaseline there. It doesn’t hurt.

Unshaved Armpits

Some time back, there was a backlash on social media against women who use emojis to hide their ‘unclean’ armpits when posting selfies. I have never found myself in a situation where I have had to use an emoji to conceal anything on me, but I think it is conscious enough to hide something that might not be pleasing to others.

Onto men, what is your fascination with unshaved armpits? Teach me. I have my notebook on standby just in case you something that actually needs space in my book. Where do you get the courage to even raise your hands when you have a whole bush threatening to enlarge into a little Karura there? How much roll on do you have to use, if you are conscious enough to even include that in the list of your must-have items?

No. I am not saying you go cut it down and have a smooth landing like the ones KQ enjoy. All I am saying is be caring enough to not shove them into our faces when you are moving around. For goodness’ sake, some of us are very short, we cannot help being found in the way of your armpits.

Have mercy on us.

Keep Your Hands to Yourselves

During my first year in campus, one of my female classmates used this phrase whenever any guy’s hands ‘accidentally’ found their way somewhere near her body. Oh yes, Irene was a tough one. Up to date, I still think she is one of the few women who love to have their bodies to themselves. Otherwise how do you explain this conversation?

Innocent Guy: Hey can I sit next to you?


Innocent Guy: Is it okay?

Irene: Get thee behind me Satan!!

Now that was a good one…haha. Most of my classmates still laugh at this incident. I am not sure if that guy was as innocent as I think he was, but that was definitely a great way to start off an otherwise boring status.

So, dear men, we appreciate the fact that sometimes, our waistlines are so defined you get the temptation to wrap your arms around them when we are walking in front of you. That sometimes our shoulders are on your way and the only way to get past is by touching us. Also, other times, our asses find themselves in your arms when we are innocently walking around.

We will not say sorry for being in your way as you like to say. All we say is that unless we consent to your touches, keep your hands to yourselves. It is the 21st century. It sucks. Actually no, it stinks!

Rejection shaming

There are various reasons a woman will say NO to your advances. Today is not that day we get to talk about those reasons, because there is a whole load of them, and it may surprise you even more to realise that you, as a guy, are close to nowhere on the list.

So, could you please handle the rejection a little better next time? Enough of the women shaming because they rejected you. Enough of the ‘you are too proud’ line, or the infamous ‘you will feed it to the ants when you die’. I mean, how petty can you be to think that the only thing the ants will dive into is my vagina when I finally get six feet under? How is it even your business? Not that yours won’t be eaten away anyway. But do we say?

Also, women have the right to choose whoever they want to be with, and it is not their duty to explain that to you. So, next time you start with the ‘kwani what does Dude 1 have that I don’t?’ talk, I hope you get a punch right in your left eye.

With that said, see you tomorrow!!




Subscribe to get new post notifications:


comments powered by Disqus
Meet Eunniah Mbabazi
Eunniah Mbabazi is an Electrical and Electronic Engineer with a deep passion for books and literature. She has authored Breaking Down (a collection of short stories), If My Bones Could Speak (a poetry collection), The Unbirthed Souls (a collection of short stories), and My Heart Sings, Sometimes (a poetry collection). She has also co-authored Kas Kazi (a novel) and When a Stranger Called (an anthology of short stories).

Get in Touch