I am that guy who is at odds trying to decipher the female specie of the human race. Yeah I am lost as to why they always cry foul with the same bland reason that all men are the same. Perhaps, those that do so are the Jack of all trades. (Men.)

I am that guy who retreats at a lady’s first sign of emotional attachment. Don’t you mistake me for a wimp; no, I came to planet earth with a stoic heart.

I am that guy that knows how to charm his way into a lady’s heart but then again, I am that guy who refrains from being prematurely bogged down by the female specie. As long as I can charm my way in, I could as well charm my way out!

I am that guy who doesn’t waste his valuable wake time fretting over the female’s nitty gritty issues and concerns of what to dress. Well, as for me, I care not but don’t you mistake me for one with reckless abandon. I am not careless but call my style; the laid back style.

I am that guy who values decorum and etiquette when it comes to family life and conducts. Call me old fashioned but what I know is that every nook, nick and cranny of my being ascribes to the school of thought that our (yes! Our) female folk are called to serve while I lead.

I am that guy who frantically tries to understand the female folk. Why are they so keen on the different shades of colour? Thing like hazel blue, sky blue, baby blue, (are our African babies blue?) aqua blue bla! Bla! Eish! Blue is blue as far as I know!

I am that guy trying to understand why the female folk’s spout of tears is just a sniff away. Are the tears a ploy or tact to hold a man hostage? Huh?

 I am that guy on the search for the perfect elixir to understanding the female gender. Don’t mistake me. I have enough women folk at home to case study but at the moment, no breakthrough yet. After all, my ‘mzee’ is still figuring it out from my ‘mathe’!