Who wears the pants?

Tumie Modise | Monday August 3, 2015 17:00

‘Midlife crisis’ is a word we often throw loosely, even carelessly around. The only time I ever use the word is when I am disappointed with myself or with the other person, either way, it is never meant in a pleasant way.  Midlife crisis has long been thought of as something that afflicts men alone and often involves expensive toys and second wives. For local men, it ranges from outrageously tight pants, Inecto Super Black, and in the case of Gaborone, men prowling night clubs every weekend until wee hours of the morning.

Those in the know term midlife crisis as a stressful, even turbulent psychological transition that occurs most often in the late 40s and for some, early 50s. Studies further show that by age 50, even more women than men suffer a turbulent midlife transition, 36.1 percent of women, compared with 34 percent of men.

As gender roles change, the midlife cut off year seems to have decreased. Because nowadays we seem to enjoy equal opportunities, well almost, with our male counterparts in terms of education and empowerment, women now appear to have the financial strength compared to many years ago. On the other hand though, studies show that on the downside, the result of this development means that men’s comparable earnings have declined and most wives now out-earn their husbands.

All this, without a doubt, gives women a sense of freedom to some extent. I shared these statistics with a friend the other day, and his response was a cheeky, ‘so is this why women love these prosperity churches’? Luckily, this is not the crux of this whole write up. Where I hail from, and I say this with all the seriousness, most women are independent, educated and highly assertive.  It has nothing to do with our geographical location, no bootlegging tendencies either. The only downside to this, as my uncle noted last year at my cousin’s party, is that such girls often take a ‘while’ to get off the shelf, so to speak.

That could have been true many years ago when a woman’s primary role was home making and nothing else. Not so anymore. It doesn’t help either that the whole world seems to be embracing the idea of same gender unions. Which now means some of us have little choice but to just get on with life. Worse, roles are changing even here at home. Just this morning, I was at the main mall.

 I parked then rushed in to do a few errands. Half an hour later I emerged, only to find a sticker on the car windshield. Most motorists will readily admit that if anything can ruin one’s day in this town, then it’s these self-appointed parking marshals at malls. Here, on a day to day basis, from sunrise to sunset, scores of able bodied men prowl mall parking bays and most of the time ‘demand’ to watch people’s cars. I don’t have a problem with anybody having earning an honest living; I guess I will never get used to these parking attendants.

As I walked back to the parking lot half an hour later, I found one such parking attendant standing a few meters from where I was parked. I sighed, because really that is what you do when you see these guys.  As I reversed moments later, I caught a glimpse of a little pink paper disc stuck on the front windshield. Earlier when I parked, I swear it was not there, there was nobody their either. Pulling out of the parking space, the same guy then got into action then furiously started directing me out of the parking. You would swear I were a learner driver, about to hit a cone at a driving school.

 As I got ready to leave, he then moved to the front of the car, removed the disk then just stood by my window. Rolling down the window, I asked whether there was a problem. He responded, ‘ausi kene ke go saletse le koloi, mpha coin-nyana daa’. Other times I would have pulled away and leave without a word. But you need a heart of stone to do that, or you just need to be really broke to have those guts. I responded; ‘ko ke tswang teng basadi ga bafe banna madi’. And I was very honest with him. Unfazed, and I bet he had heard that line many times before, he replied; ‘mo kemo Gaborone mo’. Very awkward.