Thursday, 27 July 2006

Explaining a stolen lunchbox

Summer season news madness

I can only find amusement in what has become a sad tragedy of hysteria that lacks scientific proof but feeds the lynch mob in causing the death of innocent people.

Being the summer season, the newswires are usually bereft of useful intelligent news that anything can be spruced up as news. In the West, that really fetches true, however, in Nigeria, some things can be stranger than fiction.

Only yesterday, my friend in African Shirts lamented the fact that the new Superman was a bit less than a man, having a slightly reduced bulge, especially if you have been assaulted before the watershed with Linford Christie’s lunch-box doing the 100 metre dash, you would know what I mean.

There’s a coal in my pocket

I remember when I was in Nigeria, we were caught in a frenzy that required all men to put a piece of coal in their pockets to prevent the unfortunate loss of their manhood.

Somehow, rumour and some information dispersion mechanism that beggars belief spreads the view that if you rub off on a stranger, your manhood would shrivel into nothingness.

The fact is, I have never seen any real proof of anyone who has a manhood of any significance before the event, then show that his manhood has been a victim of involuntary and violable shrinkage.

However, all you have to do is grab your crouch and scream, better wail, pointing your finger at a hapless passer-by who forgot to say his prayers and that person is attacked and finished off long before someone with more than two grey cells warming up each other seeks the evidence of an alleged penile miniaturisation.

To really look at this matter, after the man has been murdered by the mob, there usually is no Aha! Moment, like dip into his pockets and produce that stolen piece of hardware.

Exposé on the lickle womble

Closer to the truth, I would surmise, the accuser has had a encounter where his endowment might have been one of the dramatis personnel of the nursery rhyme – this little piggie which went wee apart from the fact that it was a wee bit on the rather wee side.

How better to explain the lack of that aspect of male chauvinistic self-assuredness exemplified in the myth of James Brown’s sex-machine if you cannot rue the day you lost your manhood?

Reference

Mob kills lecturer over alleged theft of manhood – this site does not keep permanent links to its news items – this link might change after the 27th of July 2006.

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