To every one Wonder Woman, there is a Cat Woman, Poison Ivy, Mystique, Queen Cersei, Madonna, Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Kim Kardarshian. Bad girls in school who will rant and snitch, bad girls in college who will bully and bitch, bad bosses at work who will politik, juice your life forces with overwork, or steal the boyfriend, sleep with the husband.
There is a pop rock song that goes: “Good girls go to heaven, but bad girls go everywhere.” Like the way Sister Nyaatha (a Roman Catholic Italian nun and a member of the Consolata Missionary Sisters nicknamed “Nyaatha” literally translated as “mother of mercy”) got to go to Italy, Nyeri, and then heaven.There is another rock song that goes, “This could be Amsterdam, or Rotterdam, or anywhere at all.”
But it has nothing to do with our story today – We are here to talk about men, and bad women – femme fatales, as some may label them.
For me a femme fatale is someone who can make love to you in her scented room that smells of fragrance and jasmine … then just as you imagine she is taking you to heaven, she murders you with the tip of her pencil thin ten inch stiletto shoe. Here’s what most men really want – a woman who is smart in the head, wicked in bed, ‘yes women’ to we men, gourmet whipper-up in the kitchen, saints on the streets and sluts in-between the sheets. That’s it.
Bad girls don’t spend their time working on their inner-beauty by going to talk to their pastors, attending sister seminars and spending Madaraka Day with the poor and down-trodden of society, no sister. They work on their outer beauty by taking afternoon siestas, putting avocados on their faces to clear the pimples, use tongs to straighten weaves and nipples, their high priest is the gym instructor and clothes’ malls their churches. Because they know men are visual creatures.
They say beauty is skin-deep, but do you know how deep the human skin is? There are hair, hair follicles, the stratum correum, sebaceous gland, nerves, adipose tissue layer and erector pili muscle. No one takes the saintly lass on Madaraka Day holiday to places like Mombasa, Dubai, Zanzibar or even Naivasha. Good girls get taken to ‘shags’ on long holidays, and introduced to parents. Good girls also get to pay their own bills, while gold-diggers have multiple men to pay the rent, do shopping, buy the horse-hair, pay school fees for siblings and all that other horse-s*** stuff.
Whilst good girls hem and haw and dither when men make advances, bad girls don’t dicker around, pun up, and happily give it up to every Tom, Dick, and Harry – but mostly, Dick! And in a hurry. Of course there is often a comeuppance for these ’bad girls’ in the wrong run – and good girls often don’t finish last.
But I will restrict my advice to the men who chase these wicked ‘Ninatakas’ (for these girls are the ‘Me, I Want’ types) by paraphrasing the CP Cavafy poem, Ithaka. ‘Keep Itaka always in your mind, arriving there is what you desire to do. But do not hurry the journey at all, so that you’re old … by the time you get to Itaka. And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you. Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.”