I was in Dar es Salaam for, uhm, let’s call it business. She tagged along- my love interest. And for those of you shaking their heads while reading this, I do not expect you to understand. I am yet to meet writers who do not mix business with a little pleasure. Guilty pleasures, especially.
It so happened that we would be sitting somewhere, in this pathetic attempt to fight the stifling Dar heat weighing us down, over cold bottles of Kilimanjaro that grew warm after the first swig. That is when it happened. He hit on her, this Tanzanian dude. I did not expect him to know that we are an item, so it was not rude. I let it ride, just to see how far she would entertain him.
And entertain him she did.
The man brought his finest game. Grade A game, Tanzanian bred. Game spiced with Bongo Flava to taste. In that Swahili sweetly scented with coastal flourish, he said,
“Dada, mwanya wako wanipendeza. Umefanya moyo wagu uruke kichurachura. Yaani, imejump froggy.”
Goodness! And the funnier part is, when he said this, he was not addressing her directly. He was talking to some other guy sitting across him, telling him that my girl here has aroused sensation in him that made his heart jump like a frog. Maybe that is the Tanzanian way of slicing a dude.
But I laughed so hard and loud, he felt embarrassed.
Truth is, the sweetest thing I had said to her since we arrived in Dar was something along the lines of her curves being the reason for the raised temperatures in Dar. So clearly, I should have felt threatened a little bit, but I was not. Here I was in Tanzania and a stranger is in love with the gap between my woman’s teeth, and his heart is jumping like a frog. What the hell was I supposed to do?
But let’s step back for a second and talk about this, mano a mano. How are we supposed to deal with competition?
Imagine, for the sake of this post, that you’re hanging out with your lady at the club, and you have to excuse yourself. On your way back you realize there is a guy trying to overturn your government. Clearly, this guy is smooth. He’s making her laugh, and she seems to be having fun.
What do you do? We are wired differently, I understand, so our reactions vary in such situations from freeze to fight to flight. But here are a number of suggestions, which in my opinion, can help you deal with competition when it rears its ugly head.
Chill your balls
Take it as a compliment. I mean, if you are in a club, and some guy hits on your girl, then it only means that she still has it. So cool down. Relax, chuckle, smile. Unless you are dating a baby, she can handle herself. And getting territorial will probably be seen as being clingy. And surely, do not start confusing us about who wears the bra in that relationship.
Remember that ‘space’ she keeps nagging you about needing? Well, this is it.
Two can play this game
If you see her liking it, give her a taste of her own medicine. Scout around for a sucia to hit on, or to dance with. If it’s acceptable for her to be flirty and touchy, then you can take that as a license to grind up on a random arse to one of those Jamaican hits.
Trust me, she will get jealous, leave the guy she is talking to, and cling to your arm. Reverse psychology works better than a witch’s spell.
Show, don’t tell, him who is the man here
There comes a point in a dog’s life when he has to pee around his territory to keep the stray ones at bay. You can only play the cool game for so long. For example when the stray dog is getting too comfortable, moving in too close, touching your woman’s hair and reaching out to get her number.
However, you do not come in with your chest blown, ready to get into a fight. At least not yet. Be smart.
If you were not in their company, probably fetching her one of those drinks with umbrellas on it, then you need to walk up to them. Grab her and kiss her in front of him. Bonus points accrue if you grab her assets while at it.
Then you feign ignorance. Act like you did not notice the dude, and then go like;
“Hey babe, who’s your new friend?”
Then offer him the pink drink you had brought your woman. I mean, it is a sign of humane generosity. Something to quench his thirst with.
Wingman to the rescue
Most of the time, we go out with our boys. They will come to your rescue. So grab one of them, walk up to the intruder and say,
“Excuse me omera, this is my friend Kalausi. He thinks you are gorgeous.”
If idiots persist
Do not be a pansy. Exercise your measure of last resort; bottle over the head.
When that Tanzanian guy hit on my girl, I felt jealous. Mostly because I could see that she liked his vibe. I could have done any of the above, only that I was not on my turf. He had the home advantage.
Also he apologized when he realized. You know how Tanzanians are when they decide to be profusely apologetic. They sooth you with words like Msela, and Aiiseee and they call you “Kakangu” (brother). Which is bullshit because I know all my brothers, and this msela is definitely not one of them.
But he said sorry, like a man. When a fellow man apologizes and calls you Msela and says ‘Aiiseee kaka, sikujua’ surely there is no need to be a bitch. Cut the man some slack.