Back in 2007 a new term emerged, it changed the terrain of ronning girls in Ghana; Otoolege. Otoolege is a guy who invests a fortune in a girl he doesn’t stand a chance with. He buys her wine when she says she’s thirsty and tops it up with enough pizza to power a drink up. He uncreatively professes love over phone, not knowing he’s on loudspeaker, not knowing that all her roommates and their friends are snickering to his hilarious entertainment.
He gets an air-blown kiss for buying her an expensive phone and doesn’t have a problem with being sent on errands by her. That fam, is an otoolege. But he has a new-age brother, and that’s a Bismark. To really get the Bismark term, i’ll give you a backdrop.
My friend Mathew has a girl on campus. She’s a really sweet girl, but I can’t say same for her roomies. You know the kind of crass girls who feel they’re prettier than they actually are, and wear clothes that thin the thin line between decent and slutty? Well, they’re premieres in that league. With very little to be dignified about, and a legon-girl tag to their names, they roam Accra for frustrated married men and misplaced-but-rich single men to parasite on.
So after one of his visits, they call aside Mathew’s innocent girl and ask her how serious he is about her. She tells them what she’s certain of; that he truly loves her. Then they ask her how much of his money she spends, and she says not really, she only takes what he gives.
“Twiaakkaaee!!!” they snap “You are joking! Spend his money o, spend his cash like your life depends on it. Men are funny, they cheat anyways, so spend his money. That way, when he fools and you must let him go, you didn’t leave empty-handed.”
Mathew’s sweet girlfriend later confides in him and tells everything. He warns her of them, and pretended he knew nothing when he visited. On one such visit, one crass girl says to another in Twi “Charley, today if I get some proper fufu with some proper akrantie meat, I wont slack kraa.”
The other crass girl responds “Same here o. Ador mi kon roff”
Mathew listens in silence but pretends he’s deaf, his sweetheart had stepped out to get him a drink. The crass roomies whip their phones, scroll through their contacts, in search of which lucky man will be available with his assets. It wasn’t a very easy task because they’d milked a lot of those same contacts.
A while passed, with all three on calls, before one blurted in much the same way Einstein screamed “Eureka!”. She screamed “M’ayi nu ooo, m’ayi nu! Mi Yaa, m’ayi nu” M’ayinu is the kind of twi expression you use on a fishing expedition when you finally hook one.
The two others press for details, Mathew’s listening in silence. She announces in twi “Bismark says he’ll take us. He’ll be at the car park in fifteen minutes” Mathew said in his head and later to me “Bismark abor ka. He’s gonna be broke before sun sets”
Chances are, Bismark isn’t a very smart guy. He’s the victim feeling like an upper hand, pouring precious water into baskets. He’s the joke he doesn’t get, and he’s worth nothing more than the cash in his pocket. I don’t really blame those gold diggers, I blame the Bismark who regards his cash as his excuse to be relevant.
While we were asleep, girls got more sophisticated and smart. The cunning ones redefined our masculinity to depend on what cars we drive, how much money we make and dash out and how much alcohol we can take without getting tipsy. They make Bismarks of the guys who fall for this, with no intentions of remaining with them. In the process, many of them destroy themselves, to the point of putting a price tag on something as pure and divine as love. When you put a price tag on love you forfeit all the beauty, peace and happiness it was originally designed to bring into your life.
You live without really living, everyday is a survival of the fittest for you. It’s either you take advantage of a man, or he makes a fool of you. No one deserves your trust, all men are the same, love is for unambitious weaklings and you know better. If you feel or think this way sweetie, then you are committing every fiber of your being and every sweat of your toils to ensuring that you remain hollow, shallow, unhappy and lonely in the deepest core of your being. Wake up.
So well, what I’m saying is, if you’re a guy, and your company is only as precious as your gifts, you’re a Bismark who deserves better. If you’re a girl with a gift of ‘Bismarking’ guys, you should know better. In the end, all you’ll be left with are your complexes and fears. Aim higher. Frankly, you can try it out in a dozen ways and reason it out in a hundred, but there is no real loving outside of God’s love. By that standard, everything falls into line. Everything
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