IS LOVE FOR THE RICH?



Once upon a time, your credit and bundles were used on someone who was the desire of your heart, and somehow it ended up like this,

 

Her: “I want a guy with money”

 

Him: “It’s just a phase, babe, I’ll be on my feet soon”

 

A talking stage gone to the archive folders and screenshots of a phone. Now, a group chat, has been hit with the headlines of this developing story like breaking news at a newsroom.

 

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You’re now at the bar, alone, wondering where it all began. Swiping her social media profile.

Was it when university was over?

Was it when you collected the fateful paper with the graduation gown, everyone in the job market has talked to you about and she saw your “potential”?

Was it when she went to that place you planned to visit, with her “best friend”?

The paper was said that it will open doors, that you also faintly heard your teachers from high school tell you about this as well.

Those nights from clubs, with music still ringing in your ears when the sunrise meets, kiosk owners opening stores, and finds you scampering into the school compound before, the watchman or lecturer leaving the compound found you, have fizzled into thin air.

The questions of job, career, family and marriage fill your mind, now more than ever. Like a soon to be father.

 

 

 

 

Boychild, it is that fateful time,

You either believe in your money-making schemes or you stop believing in love,

Fatefully, the first people you meet as your work week commences, are your boys. “Eyyy! Who’s the guy! Who’s the guy! With that chest out, we know you’ve scored with the lady over the weekend!”.

The aura of a king who has returned victorious from war, can be seen from thin air as you stride around from floor to floor in your neatly pressed suit and cologne that ladies in the office bundle up at lunchtime to gossip about.

Little do they know, that your chest is as deflated as the car tyres, in a run-down garage, should a love song, sound from the local radio stations.

The dating market is only closed until our pockets are deep. As experts say. No, not a degree or masters, kind of expert, but just series of character development in the dating pool. As the market says. So how do all of these matters come together?

 

Money versus Love.

The big debate that our hearts and brains duel each other like a historic rivalry in a colosseum.

Some swear that the “happily ever after” stories are existent like scientist’s discoveries that have stood the test of time, while others lick their wounds to such statements and watch on at the dating market like fans at their favourite sports team’s games on every weekend.

From long ago, a man with money, walks with the stride of the fittest athlete in the world. The ladies who heard about you in your broke season, are springing up like Christmas offers in any form of contact they can find you. Even the ladies you thought were the “shy and innocent” can be seen shedding their “innocence” at the new local bar you’ve upped your social class towards to get within your vicinity.

We have those chivalrous fellows, who believe from their charming acts, can swerve into a ladies’ heart and should be in all romance films that Hollywood produces and have posters all over the road and newspapers that are in the photo galleries of ladies’ phones.

Then we have the guy who only needs to swipe his car keys and phone across the table on a casual introduction and his CV is 90% approved.

So where does this all stand?

Some of the girlchild have had dreams of being taken care of and leaving the troubles of the world to be handled as she prances in her pretty attire in front of the mirror and enjoys the comfort of the home.

The labour of life is not her place, and lest she feel even the sprinkle of hardship, she will scamper away, from our fellow who tried to explain “it’s just a phase”

In the midst of, desiring a man to be the Superman, she dreamed of, his kryptonite, sleeps in the deep parts of this “Superman’s” subconscious like a stealthy panther in the wild looking for it’s prey.

The rejection he never got over in high school or university.

The family he kept disappearing from to sneak into clubs and forget the violence.

The substance abuse he developed from a stressful childhood.

When was the last time, your boychild friend told you they are going through it? Or that he has seen a psychotherapist?

Even Lwanda Magere or Samson of the Bible succumbed to weaknesses. Call that therapist.

Should this ticking time bomb explode.

The bubbling pot society has prepared for him to prove himself as a man, has fanned the flames on the firewood, and boychild here, has to seek for every breath of oxygen, on earth to keep sane, while trying to make ends meet, unfortunately, should he slowly also begin to indulge in money fraud schemes to keep things up and end up on the news.

The heart wants what it wants, doesn’t it?

Her: “What type of man are you, if you don’t have enough money to take care of me?”

The thorn, boychild never talks about.

Sooner rather than later, the butterflies in the stomach collect their eviction notice, and the cockroaches move in, and everything is but a husk of what happiness and joy was.

 

 

However, on the flip side, the housewife ladies who wish to be taking pictures on the balcony in the perfect sunrise scenery, as their neighbours fix their ties and their make-up in the car, in the morning rush for drop offs at school and work, face weird looks by the same neighbours. Can’t have your cake and eat it too, yes?

“How does a fully grown woman, sit around and have nothing for herself?” So goes the whispers around the compound. Often the girlchild may scorn at this comment, like she has been told that her crush is in love with her best friend.

Should the household need some errands to be dealt with along with kids, the girlchild may need to seek time for the children to be attended to. Now boychild, have you scuffled enough coins in the trouser for last week and the couch, that urgently needs attention from expert carpenters, to help provide for this job?

If not, let’s keep scrolling on our dating profile, or tell our boys, about the lady we almost had a chance with, for the 10th consecutive time.

This brings us to this edge of the market, introducing, the other group who are not lured like a fisherman’s bait in the sea to the money and resources are man is adorned with.

Strengthened with, will and ambition from feeling the burden of adulting, inspired by speeches from the Michelle Obama’s and Oprah Winfrey’s of the world. She is set out to carve a space for her stuff in life and not depend on a man.

The boychild here, faces the same ghost he sought to have overcome.

His wallet grunts and even almost questions him about the mission is to embark on, in the sight of the costly beauty products alone, not to forget the cars and vacation pictures on her social media, he sees from admiring her from his humble one bedroomed house, in comparison.

He is only but a working-class individual, while the people she is used to meeting go across borders for three meetings in a day and have lunch at hotels.

The large ambitions of walking her down the aisle, simply float around conversations with his boys at the local bar and trips to and from work.

But what are gender norms in 2023? Anyway, we leave that for another day.

 

 

However, lets switch tables and go to our hopeless romantics, who want the story of a lifetime. The understanding and patient ones, who fantasize the Hispanic telenovelas and want the sweet nothings, poured into their ear like their favourite hit songs of the present era.

They swift away, from the lavish lifestyles and say that money will not make them feel the warm fuzz of company and kind gestures.

All the money in the world but a date in a five-star hotel can feel like an exam room with an invigilator, at the edge of your shirts collar or a library, that can even echo the movement of the sun and moon, as time passes through the day.

Money might solve the worlds problems but so does it create a heap of others, unsuspectingly not easily seen.

You are calmly on with your day but your phone cannot stop playing the latest ringtone you have just put.

A sudden increase of phone calls, messages, contracts for business, people’s financial issues.

The person who swore you would never talk after a nasty fall out, is campaigning to be your employee or even promoter of your work, after 10 good years. How did you suddenly become a favourite in the market when all you got on your phone were texts of companies promoting their product?

Some of the friends who suddenly cheered your success, have fizzled out like the foam on the freshly opened champagne in your glass, as you look on from your penthouse hotel.

Are your friends liking for the benefits or they know you?

 

Who could switch their sides after some while?

 

Which lady/man is only wants me for a lifetime the riches?

 

Will they see me through sickness and prosperity?

 

Who am I to them without all this wealth?

 

All these you answer in the comfort of the cozy bed and noise of the television.

The riches of the heart, soon begin to seek their treasures, as hearty laughter has been nothing but a drought, since you increased the zeroes in your bank account.

Some of the friends only accommodate you because it’s a social class thing. The flashiest parties and all the “who’s who?” of the city, feel as though you still came to party by yourself.

It would have been much sweeter to remember, the same party, but in your bathroom, with your phone placed on the sink, and your partner, trying to sing along and messing the lyrics, as the neighbours complain about the loudness of the joy of your favourite song.

Maybe, being able to be remembered for the things about you that stand out, even though they’re ways may be less articulate but they still remember

Being made to feel special, with the only resources they could pull together, even though they were broke, for that month.

Getting a bicycle and riding to the concert, you both planned for to spend time because the car broke down, and you had to sneak into because you were late but still had a good time and some pictures.

Planning a surprise behind your back at your favourite restaurant.

But who will eat struggles all the same?

 

The wishes, could fill Santa’s request for presents at the end of the year,

 

After all this gamble, of trying to get the best comfort or the best smiles. Where do you fit in?

 

How do you define this for yourself?

 

They could be many other issues, that could pivot it. However, we never know what will come first, the money or the love. Until next time. Check on each other. 

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