Salewa Akande is my kind of lady
Any day any time, she’ll sweep me off my feet
The Salewas of this world; Beautiful and elegant
Nature’s own in its finest combination
Void of the ‘elantrophy’ of insecure girls
The make believes of costumes and role-play
The Salewa’s who won’t be put down by fakes and pretenders
Who are proud of their handwork; Honorable and diligent
Who have the soundest sleep at night in their Egbeda home
Comfortable in their skins
While Zainab, their Lekki counterparts twists and turns on king-size beds
Dreaming of their debtors and crashing oil prices
Who are caught up in making vague impressions
Building castles of acceptance in thin air
Only for them to wake up years later and their lover is shocked to death
“This is not the Zainab I married”
“My wife is not this dark in skin
And sure her ass is bigger than this
What about the boobs? Hell No.”
Six months into the “Happily ever after”, He realizes he has been scammed
Not by Zainab, but by Victorias Secret and it’s Havard-schooled marketing managers
Seeking to make more profit, creating idols for the innocent
And Redefining what Beauty really is
It’s not that He is a sensual bastard
Not that he married her only for her looks
But wasn’t that a major factor?
He feels betrayed, and deceived
His love is now dampened
But he’s a Christian, so he’ll do just right
But is he immune to this disease?
Hasn’t his perception of beauty been twerked?
No sorry, not twerked, I mean tweaked?
So he leaves this disappointment of a lover, not in the marriage, but in mind
Only to keep looking for the same things that led him there in the first place
But the Salewas, ladies of value and virtue
Of unconquerable self worth; Beautiful beyond comparison
Of course, they’ve got good colors, and good breast size
‘Good’ I said.
But draw attention to the content of their mind, not the color of their skin
To the strength of the heart, not the size of their chest
I only wish there were more men who appreciate them for this
And not the empty headed guys that seem to characterize my generations
Many will not realize this loneliness and emptiness
Until their thirtieth wedding anniversary
That’s if they ever make it to that date
What ever you do, remember it’s a long haul
If I don’t like you for how you look now
I doubt I will, when our paths cross,
Naked, in the bathroom, in the middle of the night
Or when ‘dem’ wrinkles begin to show up
So, please let’s keep keeping things strictly honest
As we have begun in the ways of Salewa Akande
Let’s continue therein, always abiding
And never be caught up in the rat race of this world
Nor in the pressure of proving a point to mere mortals
(C) 2016, Imisioluwa
This post was inspired by:
Salewa Akande in Jenifa’s Diary Season 3 or so, The 30th wedding anniversary of Mr and Mrs Adefisayo, and the girl I saw the other day who had moved from making up to ‘face painting’.
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