NAKANA CHIMUBABE

I laughed when I saw the posters on Instagram, ‘Nakana Chimubabe’. First ‘Bring Back The Girls’, then ‘Pray For Paris’ now this. Your own sister hasn’t slept home in days, you don’t pray for her and yet you want the girls to come back and to pray for Paris. Why are people on Instagram so fake? ‘Nakana Chimubabe’, don’t let him see that this is what you are posting online otherwise he won’t pay rent. Let us all just sit down and admit that living in a villa you don’t sweat for is simply amazing. 

The first Chimubabe I ever met was close to me and I thought I knew him inside out. Believe it or not this Chimubabe was my father. I saw him sneaking around to pick up calls, coming home looking freshly bathed and yet claiming to have had a hard day at work. Curiosity consumed me once and I stole one of his phones; the one he used to make his secret calls on. There were pictures of him on holidays, in hotel rooms and at dinner. Then there were photos of naked young ladies spreading their legs and flashing their nipples. Girls almost my age, completely naked and loving it. In the messages I found things that were worse than the pictures. I want to repeat them but I won’t. Let us just say old people sexting is the worst form there is. I wanted to stop scrolling but I didn’t, I went deeper and deeper into his other life and by the time I put the phone down my world wasn’t shattered but it changed. I wondered why he did it. Was my mother not enough? Yes, she was withered from child birth while the girls in his phone were in full bloom but he wasn’t exactly Iris Elba either. My mother was beautiful, self-sacrificing and if honesty was the policy he would have admitted that without her, there would be no him. I always saw my father through rose coloured glasses. He was Super-Provision Man. He wasn’t always there but he was there in the way that we needed him to be. When I saw his other life I began to understand why he was so protective. He didn’t want me to end up undressing for some old man because under his super human exterior, he was just a man too.

Life is as real as death. After high school there is university. University population has thousands of people all trying to be their best. When I started out maybe I would have held up a ‘Nakana Chimubabe’ poster with integrity. I lived within my means, I walked everywhere, I didn’t even shop much because I didn’t think it was possible to live large as a student. Then I met a man who I will call Santa. Santa offered me a lift on a day when even my morals were burnt from the sun. Refusing the lift would have been foolish. The soft expensive leather seats in his Benz soothed my sunburnt skin and I was at home. Santa was nice, he cracked jokes and wasn’t like any of the old perverts I saw in movies. He didn’t even touch me; he asked for my number and gave me one million kwacha for airtime. Then one million kwacha was life changing. It is now one thousand kwacha and it is nothing. I picked up when he called, I drank the wine he bought, I accompanied him to events and laughed at the dry jokes his old friends told. This is what they don’t tell you about old men, they really aren’t that disgusting. I loved my new clothes; I loved having cash to blow. Nothing beats that moment when you realize you were born for the good life and you can have it.

Santa was my first Chimubabe. With him I learned it was more about availability than love. He didn’t push me; all I had to be was available when he needed me. Then I learned tricks that helped me get more. For example I learned that scarcity and mystery result in more yearning. If I gave him less of me, he wanted more and he spent more money. I also enjoyed acting like a big baby. These are all tricks that didn’t work with guys my age who were actively breaking my heart. After Santa I have been with many a Chimubabe. Yes I earn my own money but it is just nice to have someone take care of things so that I never stress. I wanted the new iPhone; I didn’t feel like spending the money so I asked my new Santa. He refused and I took it in stride. The next days spent with him were extremely platonic, I told him I wasn’t in the mood for sex anymore and I was feeling depressed. He bought the phone the very next day to brighten my mood. 

I know people like me, men and women who have older lovers supplementing their lives. They live in shame and walk five meters apart in the shopping malls as if they have a restraining order. It shouldn’t be that way, people should be proud. As long as the parties involved are above eighteen, these affairs are consensual and safe. I haven’t fallen in love and I also haven’t broken my heart or the bank in years. The only things I break are replaceable. 

Anyway. #NakanaChimubabe!