BY K.A. BAREKI
In last week’s installment, I wrote about how to move from sexual mediocrity to excellence by creating the right environment for sex.
I intimated that one needs music, clothes, bedding, lube and specific foods known as aphrodisiacs to create a good humping experience. Isn’t it shocking that even in the midst of such pleasantries, our women and men don’t testify of good sex?
Our women still lament the lack of sexual satisfaction even when they have sex with men that have got “6-packs” promising stamina and envied salaries. Our men leave their beautiful women with pretty faces, curvaceous bodies and run with perpetual strangers that know nothing about having good relationship curriculum vitae and are not “lover material” in search of good sex.
This situation leaves us fumbling and wondering what today’s men want. So serious is this sexual jigsaw puzzle that a fair share of our women’s populace has concluded that Batswana men are naturally “bitchy”and unloving. And this is exactly what some men say about our women.
More Batswana women want to be married by Caucasian men with some selecting Zambian, Zimbabwean, South African and even Nigerian men as dream lovers – and there’s nothing wrong with pursuing exotic taste.
Over the years, I have observed this issue in protracted silence until I noticed something very interesting about the way Batswana men have sex and why our women post ads that beg for a foreigner’s proposal.
Batswana are generally outspoken people. They are peace makers who believe that ntwakgolo ke ya molomo. Because Batswana are so consensual, they are often admired and looked upon as a non-violent nation, a peaceful people who cannot hurt a fly.
How is it that this peaceful reputation is not found in the bedrooms of most Batswana couples who often resort to divorce, cheating or sulking? Good question! The answer is silence.What? You heard me, the answer is silence.
Batswana are a talkative people and yet silent in bed. Batswana men have a problem keeping quiet in libraries and yet insist on silence during sex. Batswana don’t talk about how they prefer sex and don’t give any feedback concerning sex. Our women in particular avoid praising their men for excellent bonking when it happens.
Our men take offence if a woman comments negatively on their sexual performance or makes any improvement suggestion as if to suggest that sex to them is an intuitive thing that comes without communication. Life thrives on communication, and Batswana’s sexual lives will continue to be disastrous and lifeless until their mouths open.
And after years of silent sex, our men conclude that their women are boring and search for alternatives. “If you don’t talk about sex, it’s going to be difficult to make any improvement. And, you should be communicating about what you like just as much about what isn’t working, or what you are worried may not be working. If the sex is great, it shouldn’t be a touchy conversation area…” writes blogger Lea Rose Emery in her work “Seven Signs You’re Bad In Bed”
If the average Motswana is naturally a peace-loving and consensual person, then it means Batswana cease to be Batswana every time they engage in sex. If Batswana are a democratic nation with an international reputation of being so, how can a Motswana have “undemocratic” dictatorial sex?
How is it that Batswana have the tendency to have sex that is not mutually inclusive? I reiterate that Batswana are not Batswana when it comes to sex. If Batswana when in their bedrooms behaved like they do during the day, Botswana would be a nation of sexual satisfaction. Batswana would have so much knowledge on sex that comes from their natural inclination to be consensual and assertive.
As our men obsess themselves with penile increment adverts that flood the market and think they need powerful sexologists to give them sex hunger busting clues, I am worried that they don’t notice that an easy and affordable solution lies hidden within. Batswana have no sex schools where they can learn sex.
But they have a culture of openly conversing with each other. If only they continued talking into their bedrooms, our nation would become known for brilliant sex. Our families would be stable and divorce rates humiliated.
Batswana lovers especially women would express how they prefer to be kissed, sexed and what sex positions drive them crazy. They would give feedback which by the way is necessary for improvement instead of leaving their men guessing.
Not all Batswana don’t communicate during sex. There are men and women in our country who sex in a way that is of “international standard” but it’s rare to encounter them. In Botswana there are men who divorced women for openly voicing out their opinions on how to sex.
Some men literally rebuke their women, accuse them of infidelity and call them whores for opening up. These women who are bitter and sex-thirsty resort to “Ben-10s.” What they enjoy in these young men is fresh sexual energy which is devoid of communication.
As these young boys age, their erection deteriorates and they become exactly like the men our older women ran away from. It’s a vicious cycle that can only be humbled by opening up.
In any case to solve a problem, you at least have to know its cause. What is the reason why Batswana would rather be silent during sex when they have a reputation of being vocal even to the avoidance of war?
The answer to this question is something I discovered in South Africa last year while attending a couples’ retreat. Although the venue was South African, the attendants were entirely Batswana who sought to learn about enhancing their sex lives in a foreign land.
In that setting, after speaking extensively on sexual satisfaction and admonishing couples to talk before, during and after sex, one Motswana raised up his hand to express comic contention over this idea.
“I was taught not to eat while talking. O ja ka ofe o bua ka ofe?” he asked. We laughed almost to tears. And I added my opinion to guide the matter. Later on as I reminisced on that question and its significance in understanding our people, it dawned on me that Batswana liken sex to eating and apply the British dinner etiquette to their sex lives.
Whether we admit it or not, Batswana are British in so many aspects. The lunch we esteem made up of rice, coleslaw salad, beetroots and meat is a British meal. Our dream breakfast and tea drinking habits are all a British mentality. And as a typical former colony, we follow the footsteps of our mentors.
According to British dinner etiquette, one should refrain from talking while eating. Batswana men, view sex as “go ja motho,” hence such silence when they have sex.
One other British dinner etiquette rule is that if you happen not to enjoy a meal, it is very rude to tell the cook or chef that the meal sucks. This explains why Batswana shun sex session feedback!
K.A. Bareki is the author of Sex & Intimacy 101 and can be contacted at email@example.com
This lockdown is going to plunge many into depression
Dear Mokgweetsi Masisi
Today, Wednesday April 1, 2020, marks exactly two years since you were sworn in as President of this republic, and I wonder how you will be celebrating this milestone while under quarantine. Kana right now we could be coming over there to celebrate with you had you not blundered by attending that State House pool party in Namibia. Your residence would be lit this time, ree ja joy in celebration of your second anniversary since your ascendance to the highest office on the Tswana land. Knowing you, this corona thing would have been shoved aside to allow the world to know gore you are turning two years as President – even after announcing a lockdown on Tuesday. Akere wena you are often thus – you say this, you do the other. Kana gape it would be your chance to show that Namibian President gore le wena you can gather people for a celebration even amidst this state of public emergency. Akere le ene despite global warnings against international travel he decided to host a party and invited you – the result of which you are now in quarantine. I just wonder how Atsile and MmaAtsile are coping with an absent Daddy and Hubby. In fact, we haven’t heard much of our lovely First Lady since you went into quarantine – even at this odd hour when a mother-figure is needed to reassure the nation that all will be alright. O re costile motherlove Morena. Kana if it wasn’t for that reckless trip, we could be seeing her around with you. Jaanong mmanyana gatwe a seka a go atumela shem…
Anyway, it was great to see you looking fit and strong on Tuesday morning BraMEK, and we are glad you are showing no signs of infection. Kana yo mogare e bile ga o tlhaole. It doesn’t care if you are a British Prime Minister, German Chancellor or a Royal Prince. Neither does it care if you are a Head of State, or popular football star or internationally-acclaimed movie star – e ralla anyone Covid-19, rich or poor; black or white and everything in between. So seeing you looking that healthy after that risky Namibia trip has helped reassure us that within the gloom and doom of the socio-economic crisis created by the virus world-wide, there is that silver lining of remembering that it does not just infect unless invited to, and that even when it has infected one, death is not always a given. I realise however that you waited for your anniversary day to pass without impediment before you could institute the start of the lockdown tomorrow. We support your decisiveness nonetheless and promise to abide by the guidelines laid before us to boost our survival chance against this monster of a virus. I see you have even tried to do all in your power to ensure individuals and business entities do not feel the extreme wrath of this Covid-19 and the attendant lockdown. Among the things in your rescue package I see you talk of tax holidays for businesses; access to credit; immediate reconnection of water; decrease in fuel prices; an economic stimulus package; loan guarantees for businesses; restructuring of loans with banks; relaxed payment of insurance premiums for both individuals and companies; provision of a wage subsidy for citizen employees of businesses mostly affected by the virus in order to enable them to retain employees; expedited payments to business entities by government and parastatals … and other interventions intended go fokotsa manokonoko a Covid-19. Yet there are those still in tears Big MEK, who ask gore bone gatwe bone ke ba ga mang. These are the folks who live from hand to mouth, who worry that the lockdown will kill them even faster than the virus itself. Akere Tautona there are people who make an instant daily stipend from clearing the weeds, doing laundry, selling fatcakes, selling cooltime, veggies, sweets and mabudula on the streets as well as those who sell traditional beer? How do they make money for their groceries ne Tautona? What measures do you have in place for them? In your address on Tuesday morning you did not elaborate on that and I pray that by the time this letter reaches you, you would have clarified the matter. Kana these are the people who will not comply because one way or the other, they would have to go out there to hassle. I bet they were wondering who exactly you were talking to when you mentioned the issue of panic buying. You need to urgently come up with a plan for them BraMEK, otherwise they may have to choose between death by hunger and death by corona. Go riana there is one mosadimogolo in Ramotswa who was made to spill away her traditional brew last week, despite having started the fermentation process two days before Trade Minister Peggy Serame decreed that there would be no sale of alcohol. Gatwe mosadimogolo o sale a bedisa ka Tuesday before the ban on sale of alcohol was announced ka Thursday. Her brew got ready for sale on Saturday but your men of the law came hard on her, making her throw it all away. Imagine such instances BraMEK on our oldies who seem to have been left out in your disucusions ahead of the sale ban of bojwala. Others BraMEK say you never even bothered to address their worries against landlords who will still demand rent for their houses despite the tenants not going out to work and make money on the streets. There are also these chaps who depend on our absence from our homes to make a living – the ones who take advantage of our absence to break into our homes to take what they never had to sweat for. Ba re o ba bolaile because homesteads will be occupied throughout the day. They worry that with soldiers and police officers expected to be unleashed on the streets, they may have a difficult time to do any work at night. And in the case these chaps continue to work and flout the lockdown and extreme social distancing rules, what can we expect you to do with them Tautona? Could they straightaway be charged with attempted murder should they test positive for coronavirus? Akere by coming into our homes they would have exposed us to harm? And then there are the ladies of the night BraMEK, although I know you would argue that the law does not recognise them. But hey, they are there and their hassle is real. If you are going to keep their customers under lockdown, how will they survive? Kana e bile these days they are a bit sophisticated – they rent houses from which they operate, where their clients meet them for a roll in the hay. They have to make money for both the rent and their meals. If we don’t aid them they too pose a risk as they might sneak out to go and meet their clients ‘halfway’ and end up infecting each other. As I said earlier, I hope you do something about these forgotten citizens, even if it is it could mean dropping a bag of Tsabana in each household. Note also that suddenly – after you announced the lockdown – some employers out there are beginning to label their traditionally lowly-regarded workers as ‘essential service employees.’ Yet they have nothing to offer them commensurate with the new label. Others are dismissing employees already, claiming the lockdown will kill their business. And with the grounding of public transport vehicles, these companies have no plan how to get their essential service workers to the workplace. Ne kere le bone ba o ba tlhodumele Tautona. And on a more serious note, I worry about our mental health BraMEK. I tell you this lockdown is going to have its toll on the mental health of many. There is too much anxiety right now and there is a general fear of the unknown. With no light visible at the other end of the tunnel, many will be choking in there, worried about the uncertainty of everything including the well-being of relatives, the security around their jobs, the inability to attend funerals of their loved ones… resulting in rising stress levels and possible depression. Some couples will be annoying each other and expect cases of GBV to rise during this period. I hope you will look into such matters to ensure people are given some form of counselling and advice, especially through television and radio. Otherwise we thank you for acting on this lockdown thing sooner than later – although I still feel it should have come earlier. It was always going to be pointless to wait for deaths to go uncontrollably high before we could take the virus seriously. You had no choice but to put us down into extreme social distancing. Mistakes are going to happen along the way, and I hope we will help you go through correcting them amicably together without pointing fingers. And what an opportune time for bonding to happen! Parents will school their children and tertiary students will have enough time to reorganise themselves in preparation of the next time the coursework rooms open. Husbands and wives who all along did not see eye to eye will emerge from this lockdown a lot closer. And during the potentially lonely days, I hope there will be enough and clear communication to keep people at ease. For now it is Goodbye Mr President. Pass my warmest regards to my cousin Neo and her little girl. And sorry about the sleepless nights you and especially Health Minister Lems Kwape have to endure. I really feel for the poor chap; and pass this message to him that we all love him. We see what he is doing and what he is going through. Cheers for now MEK.
This year marks my 10th year as an employee of The Botswana Guardian and The Midweek Sun newspapers, under the CBET Pty Ltd company.
I still remember one afternoon of 2010 when I was in Francistown. I was waiting for my graduation from the University of Botswana where I did Bachelor of Media Studies. I had just started a freelancing job with Mmegi in the Ghetto when one of the Guardian/Sun managers Tlotlo Mbazo called me offering a job opportunity. See, during our time, UB newspaper- then known as The UB Horizon was hyped and big.
We distributed it across newsrooms in the country. In addition to this, one of my former Journalism lecturers Julia Cass had advised us to always cut our articles and keep portfolios and later send them across media houses for opportunities. So when MmaMbazo called me about an opportunity that had come up, I knew she had seen my work that I had submitted a few months before closing at UB.
Coming into the Guardian/Sun newsroom the first days was exciting yet challenging at the same time. I found many male colleagues that were also very loud and pushy. Intimidating. At times, annoying. Some were old, reminding me of the set up in international newsrooms where journalists are older. The 24 year-old me then was timid and emotional…but zealous and curious. I was impressed however by the female journos that oozed energy and passion.
The truth about the media industry is that there was a time when it was male-dominated. Women were thrown into light beats and strong ones were tackled by males. Though it was the case with Guardian/Sun then, seeing the likes of Phemelo Ramaribeng nee Ramasu pursue News was encouraging. Her human interest stories to a larger extent contributed to my love for Human Rights issues.
I worked under the leadership of great men who all shaped my career in special ways. The likes of peculiar Mpho Dibeela who has since gone into newspaper ownership; Mike Mothibi, the sophisticated writer with a passion for farming; courageous Abraham Motsokono who called a spade a spade and not a big spoon; fatherly Ernest Moloi who helped build resilience in me; Mbazo, woman of the board who leads tenderly but with a stern posture; Justice Kavahematui with a very calm demeanor; Joe Brown-Tlhaselo the perfectionist who pays attention to every detail in the paper – in fact it was Joe-Brown who welcomed me the first day by offering me a chair and lunch! And then there is Boitshepo Balozwi, my editor-turned-friend who every now and then blesses me with pearls of wisdom when ‘the devil wants to lie,’ as well as Dikarabo Ramadubu, our moving encyclopaedia.
Still under this list falls Beatrice Mbulawa, the magnificent General Manager who came with a unique style of managing a media house as a finance-steel lady. Joel Konopo and Ntibinyane Ntibinyane have always been deep hence their now establishment of the bullish INK Centre for Investigative Journalism. In 2012, they took me to Amabunghane Centre for Investigative Journalism in South Africa where my mindset changed altogether. That was an investment that I will always use in my Journalism. Douglas Tsiako also deserves recognition for always believing in me. Special mention of Ditiro Motlhabane for always putting me on my toes about my stories as my News Editor.
My colleagues across every department in The Guardian/Sun throughout the decade, both new and old, have been fascinating. The team is a rare, winning breed. Group dynamics is as real as it gets but I can say unfazed, that I learn a lot from every single individual in our newsroom. The energy here is right. It’s amazing.
So much can be said about my decade in our newsroom. Perhaps, my number one lesson is that of servitude. Journalists are servants. They should serve. At church we say EBENEZER – Thus far the Lord has brought me. Thank you.
Facebook/Instagram: Yvonne Tshepang Mooka
LinkedIn: Yvonne Mooka