SEX AND THE CITY – CALABAR
Every knowledge is not limited to the citadel of the core university, reason I scribble on some subjects- Excuse.
For the sake of brilliance, I would want to think that the substrata of this calabar sex thing is more psychological than technical, but I am a living victim of the technical reasons more than the psychological.
Dear reader, this is just another writer’s perspective. It is not intended to offend your senses, or believe, faith, or any of your personal inclination. We all can vent. This is my own avenue. I implore you to respect it.
I completely understand that I cannot afford to categorise people before knowing them, reason I chose calabar. I feel I know these people to a large extent, I have been a part of them.
Broadly, because the art of sex can never go stale, from Adam to every one of us. Understood?
Sex is part of humanity. For me, humanity is art and I am a patron of the art who sometimes think he may be involved in esoteric, just may be.
Calabar like many other capital is a human assemblage of diverse character, and amongst the few things they are popular for, is their indigenous afang soup and healthy or loud sex life. Yes? No?.
Agreed!! A rebel groom has no cultural affinity.But the thing is, this isn’t about one or two individuals. It is about calabar, consequently, a child from an exclusively discipline home is not removed from this discourse. No no no.
Sex may have its reasons and ramifications but its concept is universal, and because I am writing about its universality as far as calabar goes, I will put everyone within a cultural milieu. Should you pardon me? Yes please.
In my short career of meeting and engaging in mindless chats with people. I have been exposed to the contextual knowledge most non-inhabitants of the capital have about calabar and its people.
The replies and comments and the facial reactions I get from telling people outside the calabar fold that I am a calabar boy usually have some effects on me.
-Sometimes it is a morale booster and other times plunges me into a sobriety coner.
While some will pretend all is well and hide their girlfriends from you, others will shamelessly say;
“oh boy, e mean say you go fit fuck well well”and honestly expect you to reply because they are so sure it is a rosette you wear with pride. Mostimes than not,their girls would come in secrete only with the intention of tasting the calabar boy’s strength, feel the glory of his rod(penis) and be a part of a satisfying sexual experience she has been hearing from tales.
Blessed with a curse yea?
Few days back, Naomi wrote on how the lagosians drink funny concussions just so they would perform good in bed. She, however midly condemned it and advised them to ask the calabar boy/man what they do to help them slack the ponyor sooo well…Just negodu.
These, and many more reasons leaves me to ponder if the betterness of a man to slack the ponyor sooo well lies within the individual or in a place.
Many years ago in calabar. I was having sex with a girl who wasn’t my girlfriend on almost a regular. I asked why she didn’t just get a boyfriend.
Her reply thus; “I will be bored, I am a bundle of energy and I love sexual escapades”. Epic isn’t it?.
Countless times I hear confessions from friends and families that they could afford to stay celibate in other places without pressure but as soon as they get pass army junction coming from outside, Bingo!!! Their junior(penis/penises) gets hard unbidden. Lord God almighty!!!
Therefore, my poser is.
Infact, there is no poser. I have my conclusion.
Please understand that I could reel off the countless mundane sexual stories harassing the capital that would single it out from other cities and you will think that I, Gabriel Pepper have kissed the blarney stone, but lemme stop here just to gather the frisson of writing a part one.
By Gabriel Pepper