As a man, I have already made up my mind not to like any daughter’s boyfriend until they are out of school. You should hear me talk to my daughters about men.
COLUMN | DR LOVE
Just the other day, my son told me he is in love. He has a girlfriend. And that the girl’s parents know him. And they approve. So he wondered if it was okay to send me her picture so that I pass my older and wiser Dr Love eyes through it.
I honestly don’t know whether it was good news or bad! I almost wished I didn’t know. The only word that stumbled out of my mouth was: Togikwatako!
He just laughed. That kind of laughter that smells like: ‘Look at this old man! At 17, I am old enough! He still thinks I am a virgin!’
To be honest, I don’t want to imagine anything about his virginity. It is a parental defence mechanism, especially when dealing with daughters. All we do is to sing the K’ogikwatako song loud and long until the leopard finally touches it. Then we don’t feel like failures or losers. We have done our parental duty of barking to scare off the leopard. If the leopard doesn’t get scared, it is not our fault.
And funny enough, our K’ogikwatako song is louder and more emphatic when daughters are involved. As a man, I have already made up my mind not to like any daughter’s boyfriend until they are out of school. You should hear me talk to my daughters about men. Usually I talk without listening to myself, lest I burst out laughing. I look for the most satanic, smelly, nauseating and disgusting cloth and put it around all men. Then I look my daughters in the eye to say: You see; men are bad. Worse than our MPs. Now, what can be worse than our MPs really?
Of course I know there are very many good boys, maybe more than we parents want to believe, but in the world of Togikwatako, that is not true. All boys are selfish, prowling for adventure, full of the entire world’s HIV and willing to pump it all in our girls.
This Togikwatako song continues till the girl finishes school and suddenly, fades away. Parents then start demanding for a husband in a way that makes you wonder how the bad boys got saved into prospective husbands!
For boys, the pressure is much less. But still, I feel sympathetic that my boy has started the trek down love’s long and winding journey. I fear that girls may break Parliament’s microphone stands and poke them into his heart. It is one area that a parent cannot help a child. But if I was like Kadaga, I would bring in SFC and pluck off all the unruly girls out of my boy’s life. He deserves a smooth sail. But unfortunately, nobody survives love’s ups and downs.
I also need to get out of here before I get tempted to tell you about the first time when I touched it. Bye!