A woman’s body is a real piece of art; face, boobs, waist, hips, legs.
One female form is different from the other, just as our thumb prints are different.
It’s no wonder the world is obsessed with women’s bodies because when you think you’ve seen it all, you are confronted with fresh sights to see. Some of us women, too, sometimes get fascinated with one another and I’m not talking lesbianism here; having gone to an all-girls’ school plus my experiences at the university girls’ hostels where we unashamedly discussed our bodies and swapped tales about how best to get our goods working. I’ve generally come to the conclusion that what works for Eve may not work for Rachel.
While I waited my turn, I listened as she terrorised other out-patients with her poisonous tongue. She told one, who’d had three children in three years, that she was a slut; told another she would seal her vagina if she had the power to, as she seemed to have no use of it- the woman had had four Caesarean sections.
When it got to my turn, Mama Matron pointed to the gurney and asked me to take off my undies, lie on the gurney and spread my legs. “Spread it wide as if daddy wants to do his thing,” she said. I saw the student doctors trying hard to look professional. My nakedness clearly wasn’t the first they would see as it’s common knowledge that these students have their clinicals at regular intervals at different departments within the hospital complex but I wasn’t ready to have kids gaze at my body and I told Mama Matron so.
“Ehen, Ki lo wi!” She bellowed. I made her day with my refusal. I saw her eyes light up as she pulled on her latex gloves and settled those tyre-like arms on her thick waist.
Matron: This is a teaching hospital, and your nakedness is nothing to us. Missis World are you going to remove your pant now? I stood my ground and stared her out. She baulked and agreed to have just one female student doctor. But she wouldn’t let me enjoy my victory.
Me: Ashawo ke?
Matron: Yes. Two harlots came here earlier, they had shaved their bush. They were bald like gorimapa.
Me: I’m sure they shaved because they need to air themselves; besides these things have nothing to do with being an ashawo, it’s a hygiene thing.
Matron: Shut up, what do you know? The vagina cleans itself; it’s cleaner than many people’s mouths. What’s wrong with a woman’s vagina smelling? You women of these days amaze me.
The student doctors sniggered from behind the curtain, afraid she would rebuke them if they laughed out loud.
Me: No, I don’t agree, women shave for…
Matron: Enough jare, you think you know more about the secrets between the legs than us your mothers? We’ve been at this game a long time. Sometimes when my husband, of blessed memory, travelled, I wouldn’t wash that place until he got back and once I opened my legs he would charge like a lion smelling blood.
I stared open-mouthed while everyone roared. Those are the kind of stories told at the family planning clinic. It’s a sex place, abi?
Me: (Trying not to appear amused yet wanting more juice) Really? How did you do it?
Matron: You women just want to f%$k and nothing else. You can’t care for your children, you can’t do anything. (She turned to me, holding aloft a pair of steel clamps) Oya open your legs wide as if daddy wants to enter joo.
Me: Mummy, there are better positions for daddy than this, believe me; on your knees for instance…
Matron: Fada! That is an abomination! (Clamp clattered to the floor).
I had just confounded her on a subject she considered herself an expert.
Matron: The way we were brought up; the woman lies down and the man lies on top. But you people have perverted the way of godliness. This world is full of corruption! See the other woman that came before you, she shaved all of here, (pointing to the side of her thighs downwards.) and left here, pointing to the middle part.
Me: That’s a Mohawk.
Matron: Mo kini? (Hisses) This world is spoilt. So what will your type be teaching your daughters?
Me: My type will be telling her daughter to take care of herself, of course.
Matron: By shaving her bush? You are a loose woman.
Me: Loose ke, what do you want to do with the forest?
Matron: It is for your husband alone to find discover the treasures in the groove. Haaa! I pity your oga.
Me: I pity him too.
Matron: Open your legs jare, that’s the only thing you know.