I have a Beard

You don’t ask a man about what he lacks, or what he cannot do. No. men are not programmed for shortcomings, or failures. And no, it is not a question of self-esteem, it is a question of being a man. It is how we are wired, right from the Neanderthal to the tweeps. If you remind a man of his shortcomings, you are simply telling him he is a lesser man, he is not man enough. That is how our system works. That is why Jesus carried that cross and accepted to be nailed by mere mortals and yet he had options. Only that the options seemed cowardly. He chose to be a man.  That is why we elect presidents who become strongmen, why a man is quicker to throw a punch when you call him a coward as opposed, let’s see, to casting grievous aspersions regarding his appearance (as long as you do not mention his mum in between). That is, may be, why the Baks was not cool with Tinga telling him in 07 that he was not suited for the job and yet his constitutionally awarded ten years ain’t over, or uncle Bobs down south wondering why the likes of Morgan are telling him to retire coz he is about to die, who told them a man, moreover, an African man feared death. Damn, you look it in the eyes, you dare death, that is what is called manly, that is what is called living. Haven’t you people heard of the term president for life. Anyway, that is the problem with people named Morgan instead or gentlemanly (if there is such a word) names like Robert for the learned folks. Does Raila even play golf, you don’t run a country if you commentate football. The best you can do is coach a football team.

If you have a short coming and you are cool with it, you are not man enough, or not manly. For example, if you are a man and a girl describes you as cute and you blush, there is something inherently wrong with your wiring system. A man is either good looking, handsome or sexy, period. Other descriptions are a preserve for women. The fairer sex, the beautiful people, the people with the smooth faces, without facial hairs. Facial hairs are a preserve of men.

That is why I am a happy man, I finally have a beard. Now, my friends won’t adopt that superior know-it –all- George- Bush –about- to -bomb –Saddam- Hussein tone. Now they won’t call my chin smooth. Smooth? I tell you what is smooth, a kid’s bum is smooth, my girlfriend’s face is smooth and the taste of Barcadi, is smooth. Now that friend of mine who suddenly thought it was cool to check out my chin at Kencom and shout out that sina ndevu is welcome to do it again- to check, not shout. She is welcome because at the base of my chin, there is a fine small collection of black hair. Not big, but definitely not the five strands that were there this time last year.

The small collection of hair is the reason the guy who shaved my head last week is my favourite guy right now. Jaymo, that is his name. He noted my manliness. The wiring system that had been a bit crooked had finally been righted by nature. He mouthed words that were music to my ears, “nikunyoe hadi ndevu?” There! There! He said the word ndevu and me in the same sentence, in a nice way. He mouthed what my boys have been dismissing in the simplest but most powerful way. He made it sound like it was something that I have always done, like pissing. In short, he said I have a beard that could be shaved, a very big beard that deserved the razor.  Of course I said no. not because I can floss it to thosedimwitd who thought I will never grow one, but because as much as I was alaways pissed off by guys noticing I had no beard, I was somehow cool with not having one. I am not ready to start shaving. That is one part of the male ritual that I find cumbersome, shaving a beard. If you get it right, you are cool. But if you get it wrong, you are most likely to have ballooned full stops and commas on your chin. Not a lovely sight. To make matters worse, it could be itchy and scaly. That is why I am glad I told Jaymo not to shave my beard. Oh boy, how my scalp itched for the two days following my visit to his barbershop.

For now my beard stays, my beard grows. I could even travel to Kandahar or Kabul or some other region in Afghanstan that the BBC refers to as the tribal area and join the Taliban if that will make my beard grow bigger and healthier. I am gonna  have beard that will make you refer to Anyang Nyongo’s chin as baby bum. I am gonna have a beard that Gillette will be compelled to have me in their commercials with the tag line, “you wanted a reason why we made this blade, okay, here are ninety nine”. I wanna have a beard that those yellow skinny jeans wearing boys will recoil or hide every time they see me. But I won’t give a rat’s ass what they think. I mean what kind of man wears yellow, or lumonus green shiny jeans in the name of fashion, heck, colours aside,  what kind of man wears skinny jeans? Unless you want to be a woman, or a fashion designer, they are a crazy lot, we can pass. Fine, I won’t rant about skinny jeans, there have been enough rants already, and all that has come off it are more skinny jeans appearing on the streets. In hideous colours, damn, they are so hideous that watu wa masaku no longer feature in jokes about colour any more. They even have a name for it, colour blocking.

But I will rant about those shorts. What do you call them again? They resemble what  chicks call peddle pushers( I hope I got the spelling right). You are a man, you are going to have a beard. You are supposed to show off your beard to the world, not your ass. Any body hugging garments are made with women in mind. And body builders. I know you like your body, everybody has a Narcissus in them, but that is what mirrors are for, right? Stand in your room, in front of your mirror, and admire yourself, but leave it there, no man wants to see how another man looks under his clothes (unless you like men). A woman can stand another naked woman, a man can stand a naked a woman, heck, loves a naked woman, but a a man can’t stand another naked man. Please note I am not being sexist here. So leave the figure hugging clothes for women, they are the ones who have figures, are shapely. Leave those shorts for women, they were meant for women. Can’t you see you are shortchanging men here? If you take all their clothes from them, then what, they start wearing men’s clothes? Who wants a woman all covered up? So for the sake of the people of the beard, get your sartorial sense right. As for my beard I will nurture it so that every time you see me and you are in peddle pushers, you hide.

Disclaimer: You have done yourself irreparable harm if you did not read this lightly, or you lack a sense of humour. I am not responsible.