Feminism doesn’t stop you from taking care of your man.
Feminism doesn’t stop you from collecting penis.
Feminism doesn’t stop you from cooking for a man.
Feminism doesn’t stop you from spending your money on a man.
You people talk about feminism like it’s a cult created to be against men, it isn’t!
It’s 26 days since Oyo children were taken.
It’s 26 days since Oyo children were taken.
It’s 26 days since Oyo children were taken.
It’s 26 days since Oyo children were taken.
It’s 26 days since Oyo children were taken.
WHY ARE WE SILENT ABOUT THIS?
@josiahjdp The fact that she didn’t choose him at the end is the sweetest part fr🥹 society has made a woman’s pain not worth than sorry, they believe once an apology is given that is all. Thank you so much for the ending.🌹🌹🌹
You'll criticize the government, they'll pick you up
You'll call out government institution, they'll pick you up
Student will call out tertiary institutions, they'll suspend them after picking them up
You'll give product review, the brand will pick you up
Government of the picker, for the picker and by the Picker
My husband got a vasectomy, and two months later, I turned up pregnant. He called me a cheat, left me for another woman, and he still didn't know that the biggest shock was coming during the ultrasound.
Michael walked out of the hospital gingerly, but with his ego fully intact.
"That’s it," he said in the car, "no more scares."
I believed him.
How foolish.
Two months later, I was vomiting in the bathroom at six in the morning, hands shaking, holding a pregnancy test with two pink lines.
Two. Crystal clear.
I didn't scream.
I didn't cry.
I just sat on the cold floor, staring at that test as if it were some cruel joke from God.
Michael had gotten a vasectomy.
But the doctor had told him something he chose to forget, because men only hear what suits them:
"It’s not immediate. You have to wait for follow-up tests. We have to confirm it."
Michael didn't wait for anything.
Not the tests.
Not the precautions.
Not even common sense.
That day, I went to the clinic alone...
I grew up extremely slim and I'm still quite slim so I guess I can talk about it.
Slim people are body shamed, extensively and hurtfully.
A couple of weeks ago, I attended a wedding with my classmate. While we were there, he introduced me to his aunt and the woman told him in Yoruba that she hoped I was not his girlfriend because my "neck was dry".
She assumed that I wouldn't understand what she said and that made it all the more hurtful.
As a child, people used to ask if my parents were starving me. Random strangers would walk up to me, wrap their hands around my wrists and comment on how thin I was. People would tell me that I wouldn't find a husband because men don't want bones.
Two truths can coexist. Fat people are body shamed and thin people are body shamed. None is more hurtful than the other. None is pleasant. None should be dismissed.