The Retrosexual man

Are Kenyan women prepared for the Retrosexual man?
After the really man disappeared, Silas Nyanchwani is leading men  back to the cave, where they belong
I have a particular aversion for many who don earrings and go for makeup. Men who jostle for space in the bathroom
For the past decade, the metrosexual man has been the talk in town; on radio, in the pages of both male and female magazines, in corporate offices, in salons and everywhere where fashion is fodder for gossip. Women sighed with relief that sweaty armpits and excessive masculine pride had been dropped as men became well groomed and progressive in their thinking.
Metrosexual men had overcame the prejudice that they are gay and they of course proved that a pink shirt and anything grey blend so well, that the word smart is a natural utterance by everyone around them. Metrosexual men were the extreme version of new ‘feminised’ Man. The man who could not fuss about looking after the kids as she went to the salon or to the Chama meetings. He could do domestic chores without feeling that he was giving his manhood away. Women loved it.
But in the recent days women are growing weary of this New Man. He is a fraud. He is insecure. He can’t stand up to fight in a pub once a burly drunk young man steps on the missus. He can’t fix a tyre puncture without calling for help. He is so hopelessly weak at roles that are traditionally assigned to the male gender. More and more women are hankering for days when men were men. They said what they meant and meant what they said. They were better liars. They miss the testosterone-driven men. May be that is why they are finding rugby a visually appealing sport.
But the man women are searching for may be just showing up unnoticed. He is the Retrosexual man. The real antithesis of all the progressive campaigns women have done to get the male specie out of the cave. He stayed when modernity swept all the masculine pride that for long defined the traditional man. He has improved with times, but the raw machismo is still very intact. He shaves when he wants. He dresses his own fashion although his wardrobe is updated. His preferred colours tell as much. He just arrived from the cave, complete with astounding table manners and behaviour that could baffle just anyone born in the recent years.
The Retrosexual man is retrogressive as far as the current reverse sexualisation of sexes is concerned. More and more men have been at home with lotions and lipstick in the name of better grooming. With the presence of gay men in town who feel compelled to dress and behave effeminately to drive the point home and women encroaching what captures the male psyche like sports especially soccer and rugby, the Retrosexual man has not been moved even a single inch to buy even some petroleum jelly for his scaly skin.
Irrespective of his improved economic status and perhaps academic status, he will stop by the roadside mahindi choma or mutura roasting young man, go for the juiciest part, shake hands with the usually weather beaten, lanky fellows invariably in a faded shirt but cheery as they sell their delicacies. He doesn’t sneer nor question the hygienic standards of the place where he buys such. He does not snob people, unless he dislikes one. Education or wealth humbles them, as t should surely everyone.
He is not threatened by the newly gained female power. The fancy titles, the stupendous salaries going the female way do not threaten his masculinity. Neither does he peddle defeatist theories that women climbing the corporate ladder are going up through the bedroom and not the boardroom. He does not have issues with women. He respects them for what they are, be it psychologically, physically, sexually or mentally.
He is an electrician, a plumber and mechanic all rolled into one. He fixes all electrical problems in his house and few other neighbours down the corridor without even bothering to switch off the Mains. He can repair other electronic goods with only the help of the manual without necessarily going to extortionist called electrician. All plumbing problems are an easy Sunday morning thing.
He drinks a specific brand of beer and must be something hard or if a teetotaler; he doesn’t disguise his drinking in fancy euphemisms such as ‘social drinker’ or ‘I drink occasionally.’ The only sign that he is drunk is his red eyes, and the car truly knows the way home.
He is so composed that most women love and hate him in equal measure. Where others see him as stubborn and insultingly rigid, some see a self-confident man who is in charge of his destiny, literally. He doesn’t move with crowds. He supports a funnier English Premier League side such as Birmingham and thinks their play is good. No, he is not eccentric. He also has some weird sport like judo that only he, follows in the wee hours of the night on his pay-TV channels.
The Retrosexual man does not cheat in relationships. He is straight and honest to a fault. He is likely to point out from the get-go where the relationship is going and does not wait some months when everything is getting complicated to jump ship. Well you think only superman can pull such in the current world? Boy you are dead wrong!
The Retrosexual man exists. He was there. New ones are emerging to oppose the metrosexual man. Or else one can ask why Wayne Rooney (I’m not a Manchester United fan) is never interested in shaving his hideous beard or why Calvin Klein hasn’t hasn’t approached him to pose to the world with their inner wear. And yes, nearly all Boxing heavy weight men and male fans as well posses the Retrosexual trait; that deep animalistic instinct that used to make men tick and kick butt.
SILAS NYANCHWANI

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