A man with the he-goat spirit is a man who does not listen to your advice. It’s not that he does not respect you. It’s just that he respects that thing in-between his legs more. He is not deaf either, he just likes the sonorous voice of his third leg. It is sweet in his ears. And anyway, the vibes he gets from doing things with his partner-in-crime, his third leg, leaves him feeling like a king and conqueror. A very good feeling, I gather.
The he-goat does not discriminate. He loves them old and young, fat and thin. He is a liberal and his third leg is deregulated. It goes everywhere like the petrol attendant’s nozzle. The only difference between the he-goat and the petrol attendant’s nozzle is that those who need the latter leave whatever they are doing to look for him and get their fill or refill. The nozzle does not leave the petrol station. It waits patiently for the tanks and fills them all, unless there is nothing in the underground tank. But the he-goat is a hunter. He goes from compound to compound, street to street, looking for whom to devour.
Sometimes an experienced he-goat gets lucky and goes to his grave with all the epaulettes of his ranks. But many go down foaming in the mouth.
I admit that the he-goat and the nozzle are cousins, even if distant but in case you want to pick holes in my theory of differentiation, consider these two stories.
About 11 years ago, one Pastor Derek Ngulube of Faith Ministries, a church in the Matobo District of Matabeleland South, South Africa was expelled by the church elders. His offence? Derek impregnated six married women! Prolific Derek did it all right under the noses of the pregnant wives’ husbands and something tells me those women sought out Derek. The report I read did not specify the venue or venues of the frolicking but then there was also no line or paragraph on the pastor raping the women.
So, we can safely conclude that the six unwise wives took their tanks to the prolific nozzle of Pastor Derek. And the pastor, being a cheerful giver, gave them their hearts’ desires. Why Pastor Derek preferred married women, I do not know. We can also assume that a few dozens of the pretty young single women in the distressed church might have fallen under the toxic anointing of their rampaging minister. I strongly suspect so but since I have no proof, I’ll just stick to my sub-theory that Derek found married women sweeter and safer.
They are more experienced and are not likely to threaten Derek with accidental pregnancies. With single girls, there are more complications. They are likely to want to displace ‘Mama’ (that is the pastor’s wife) or even audaciously aspire to become ‘Second Mama’. Then when they get pregnant, which they often do, they’ll come running, all tears and threats. They’d want the pastor to do something about it or they would tell their daddies. Married female parishioners, on the other hand, just chop-and-clean-mouth. If pregnancies occur, they reallocate them because no daddy must hear.
However, the prolific he-goat seeks out his prey. He hunts them down. That is what gives him his kick. Give him new yam and he goes looking for last year’s yam. He wants water yam, cocoyam, even pounded yam. The he-goat runs and sweats. The chase gives him satisfaction. Like Dada.
Dada loves to experiment. He believes that a book should not be judged by its cover. Yes, he loves beautiful faces but his interests go deeper. For instance, he’ll tell you that a bow-legged woman is sweeter behind closed doors than the straight-legged ones. Did you say ah? He’ll tell you that a full-bosomed girl comforts him better than soothing words. He is not attracted at all to short or fat women because he believes they are not athletic or cannot be athletic enough in the sports that he wants them for. You understand that, right? So, if you introduce a beautiful girl to Dada, he’s looking beyond her fluttering eyelashes. He’s checking out the legs and the ‘comforters’. And since you can’t always find everything you want in one single place…
The trouble is when one takes a bow, 10 step into his shoes. And the beat goes on.
Dada goes shopping, and he shopped until he dropped.
Now why does that remind me of most men’s love for variety? It reminded you too? See, we are on the same page. There is always one day when the experienced goat eats something poisonous and he starts foaming in the mouth until it falls. I saw a couple of my mother’s goats die in such circumstances.
My grandmother’s diagnosis was always the same: the goat had eaten a poisonous leaf. No post-mortem needed. But does the death of one experienced goat while looking for varieties ever stop his friends and brothers from straying into the evil forest? No. Men are experienced he-goats. They love hunting. They brag about the number of mountains they have climbed and the exotic breeds and cross breeds of cocoyam and water yam they have eaten. They look down on those who eat only potatoes.
Sometimes an experienced he-goat gets lucky and goes to his grave with all the epaulettes of his ranks. But many go down foaming in the mouth. The trouble is when one takes a bow, 10 step into his shoes. And the beat goes on. I guess for that breed of men, it is all about ‘my Mercedes is bigger than yours’.
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