TOYIN FALOLA FROM PREMIUM TIMES
My bald head and protruding stomach make me look like a “Sugar Daddy!” When seen with a driver and a nice jeep, I become Sugar Daddy X. If I move around clubs, pepper soup joints, and attend parties like a socialite, I am upgraded to Sugar Daddy XXXL, Extra-large x 3. And in the glove compartment of a Sugar Daddy are bottles of “Origin,” among other aphrodisiacs, the most potent in Lagos being “Je ko mo!” that is, let her know you are strong, handle her till she surrenders. Underneath the seats are all sorts of other medications, mainly bottles that contain high blood pressure medication. To enjoy life, the Sugar Daddy must first save his life!
How many Sugar babies do I have? None. Why? I am looking for a Sugar Mummy instead, and I have been unlucky all my life. It is too late now, as I was told that Sugar Mummies prefer younger boys with stronger muscles. I desired a Sugar Mummy to collect money, which I could then spend on a teenager or a girl in her twenties.
To a Sugar Daddy, the older you get, the younger the woman must be so that the blood passing through your veins is cleansed. The small girl, sometimes so small that she can be swallowed in the big stomach of a Sugar Daddy, is full of magical charms that a man in his late 70s by the side of a 20-year-old babe is greeted by his fellow Daddies as young, looking fresh as if he is in his 30s. His first daughter is older than his girlfriend! He is called Grandpa during the day and Sugar Daddy at night. And to the young damsel, Baba Sugar becomes an Uncle, Bro. or Cousin. When speaking with the Sugar Daddy, you think the Babe is talking to a family member. To the organic older women inside the net, the Sugar Daddy becomes “Alaanu mi,” my helper, saviour, and benefactor. God is a miracle worker: He can disguise an Angel in the body of a Sugar Daddy.
I know I am already in trouble for revealing a little. No more revelation, but allow me to explain. As I have heard multiple times, every woman needs a man in her life. Perhaps, they are not in a land where a woman needs a woman! Pardon me once again: almost every woman needs a man who will pamper, spoil, care for, and be hers. So I heard. Can you believe that a woman from a polygamous home whose father has five wives can think like this? Many do as I was told: one-on-one is the best formula.
I also heard that it is also the natural order for a man, irrespective of his social or financial status, to seek affection and companionship from a woman. Millions of Nigerians have never left Nigeria to see a man kissing another man and a man getting married to another man.
As the stories go, a man must work, but a woman need not. What an unfair world! So, I was told that except a man is from a wealthy home or has a trust fund, he will have to work very hard to become financially stable before deciding to settle down with a woman to build a family. Why do they forget that a woman can also be feeding a man? I don’t understand! You must not have been to Ibadan, where Baba General will never pay school fees or leave monthly allowance. Baba General is not a breadwinner but a bread taker of women.
Unfortunately, Nigeria’s economy makes it difficult for many young people to become successful legitimately; this is not an excuse to justify fraud and other illegitimate businesses, but one would have to work twice as hard before one can hit the jackpot. The jackpot can come from luck, ill luck converted to a fortune, like running away from the Kirikiri prison to carry the bags of money left by the warden. And what about ritual money if you are strong enough to use your brother’s body parts for juju? Apologies for ruining your dinner with true stories.
As a result of the toughness of hitting the jackpot, many women seek financial stability from men; they want a ready-made man. Olorunsogo, and not Surulere! They want Toyin Falola and any of his friends. Indeed, some women have asked me to introduce them to my rich friends, especially those managing their businesses who can expense trips to Dubai without considering the cost. In my goodness, I run the errands. In my holiness, I don’t know the results. There are boundaries to the messenger’s job: you can be part of the Workshop to teach how to steal a woman but avoid the closing session on killing the husband. Sadly, many young men are still on the ‘streets’, trying to make ends meet, and many ladies, especially in this generation, do not have the patience to build with a man from scratch. They are on the roadside to be taken, not stolen. This is where Zaddy comes to the rescue.
