Yes, I said it, Kenyan women are terrible at conversation

They say if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans.

So here goes: I am in the middle of nowhere, with a tent pitched in the kind of places that use words no one uses — like rocky kopjes and sweeping sights and undulating valleys — you know the ones favoured by the expats and flavoured by the locals. It’s quiet countryside, and I’m sipping a glass of Hennessy Paradis cognac, occasionally dipping my tongue in honey and slipping sweet nothings into the ears of someone’s daughter. Welcome to my idea of heaven.

Only, heaven is opium for the disillusioned. This may not happen, or at least not frequently, because it takes two to tango. And the dance is problematic because, in my experience, most Kenyan ladies can hardly hold a wine glass properly, let alone a conversation. Never the two concurrently.

Writing a column obliges me to follow the news, which, at present, is no rosy experience. The talk of the town is that Kenyan girls can hardly talk.

Forget what you see on social media – Twitter especially is a dreadful barometer of intelligence – and focus on the intangibles: Kenyan girls are, how to put it piously, boring. That’s boring with a capital B. They mostly want to talk about ‘Vasha and sherehe and ‘babe can we order in leo?’

Obviously, my opinion is skewed by the very fact that if you don’t lead the conversation, she won’t. Fair enough. But interactions are a dual carriageway. It does not help that most people who consider themselves “interesting” have the personality of a wet plastic bag.

Sometimes they flirt with sagacity but that interest is quickly rendered moot. When they are not “manifesting” trips to Diani or tagging themselves as Instagram Sapiosexuals or following TikTok therapists offering ancient Chinese wisdom of “Dump him if his name starts with G..” then they are silent and you have to keep asking if they are fine. A choice between ruling in hell and serving in heaven.

You can’t throw a stone in Nairobi without hitting a man who presented a problem to his person and she pulled that Kenyan girl stock line of “Waah, saa uta do?”

Don’t even get me started on the fake Kilimani-Caucasian accent that sounds like a cat scratching against corrugated iron sheets. Do you wonder why we ghost you? Because how many times can we talk about gin ama whiskey? Whenever you take a Kenyan chic out, the conversation resembles makala ya NTV Jioni. If you don’t ask her questions, she will sit there looking like a log of wood. A pretty log of wood, yes, but still a log of wood. Is this what commitment is supposed to sound like? And no, she is not the strong silent type. I have had more fruitful conversations with Richie, my house lizard. 

There is no deep intellectualism. Nada. Nothing. Your words have to work hard. You have to be the primary rainmaker in that relationship. If it was not for Atwoli-sound-bites or other garden-variety social media buzzwords, you might as well be dating a dodo. Minus the alcohol, you will have nothing to talk about. In fact, without alcohol, there will be no one to talk to.

I don’t know about you, but there is nothing as destabilizing as having a pretty lass on your arm but she’s dumb. Oh God. It’s the worst. It’s like buying a sports car and crashing it in a chicane. Ladies, here’s a tip: When a man says a girl is “actually smart when you get to know her,” forget it. She is not. What he’s actually saying is, that this is a smart girl for a really hot girl who is actually dumb.

Sometimes you want to share a conversation with a partner but then you realise she is intellectually innocent. A conversation refusenik. No, ignorance is not bliss. Having no opinion is “not sexy.” Not voting is not “in vogue”.

(Oscar) Wilde wrote “De Profundis” as a letter to his lover “Bosie,” Lord Alfred Douglas. In it, he said, the supreme vice is shallowness. While talking about why wearing red attracts lightning is cute, that cannot — should not — be the basis of a relationship. Show me you care. Let me into your thinking process. Let’s discuss the policies that mheshimiwawants to implement rather than focus on Sakaja’s dimples. Or that lucky mubaba guy who is not Sakaja but wears those puffy jackets and looks like he has uzee money that never runs out. Sure, gossip may bring us together, but it is not what will keep us together.

If I am looking for a smash and pass then that is fine. But surely, life cannot be hinged on one-night stands. I want you to challenge my thinking, to ask me, how are we building this wealth? What are my thoughts on the global recessions? What is my intellectual filter? How do I think the price of oil in Iran is affecting the gold reserves in Uganda? Does Uganda have gold? See what I mean? We can always have small talk, but I rather much prefer some real talk.

Men, get out your pitchforks. If you talk to a girl and she tells you “Niambie.” Mwambie it is over. Mambo ni mengi and who has the time to cauterise a conversation out of someone? I really think we should talk to people who want to talk back. I have been in places where women are with other women and bro, those people love to talk. They do. Ladies love to communicate. In fact, the only time they are not talking to each other is when they are pausing to breathe. Even then, if you listen carefully, you can make out a few words from under their breath. 

I’m not preaching against small talk; I’m preaching for real talk. Stop playing Russian roulette with people’s time. Talk, gaddamit. Legend has it that, Jay Z, reportedly after trying to have a conversation with a Kenyan damsel, went and recorded “It’s a hard knock life.” That’s the fine print of dating Kenyan, marrying Kenyan.

Maybe, it’s true. Kenyan girls really are the real baddies. Bad at conversation.

[email protected] @eddyashioya 

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