There is a Billy Ocean song whose lyrics have a line: “get out of my dreams, get into my car”. Although I was much younger then, I remember how the older ones around me, including my parents, got jiggy when it was played at a party or someone put that cassette in the player. Yes, it was that long ago.
I have never known what he sung about or what he meant. So I formed my own impression — that there is a lady who he wants to come out of his fantasy (get out of my dreams) and become part of his reality (get into my car). Like any man, I fantasise about a few ladies too.
But most of us keep these “dark secrets” buried. If let out, these “secrets” can unleash a whole lot of stuff from a partner, wife, side-chick or jump-off that a few men would want to deal with. Unless one is in a comfortable space in a relationship — women have such fantasies too. Forget that goody goody stuff you may hear on that Men show on TV. These are things you will not hear on that show, where everyone plays nice guy. This is reality.
Every man has some of those fantasies. Billy Ocean sang about his, I believe. I have a few fantasies too but unlike Billy Ocean, I prefer them to remain in my dreams. My peeve is that with each passing day, the myths I hold on stand the risk of being busted. Social media — Whatsapp, Facebook — and the tabloid press have conspired to let me know what I would rather not about my fantasy women.
I got to know Anita when she participated in a beauty pageant. When I saw her picture in the newspaper, I felt blessed to live in the same country with her. Her smooth light skin, bright eyes and curvy body reaffirmed my conviction that Ugandan women are some of the best on the continent.
I rooted for her to win the crown but she came second. But she got a TV show and I became a fan. I even downloaded the app so that I do not miss it. Then that tabloid story. There is no turn-off like a beautiful fashionable woman who cannot keep her apartment clean, that is if the rumour is true.
It seems there is something about TV that catches my imagination. Desire popped into my life from the time I watched her as co-host of a weekend TV show. Then she started singing but I did not like her music.
There was something about her physique that sustained my interest. I cannot blame all those men linked to her, apart from that Nigerian. Damn, I never wanted to see her naked. Seeing her dressed in anything tight or short was enough for me.
Then there is Iryn. Oh, Iryn! I cannot recall when and where I first saw or heard her. Unlike Desire, I love all Iryn’s songs, videos and wherever else she has blessed us with her presence. I love the way she uses her voice, the way she moves her body to the music, the way she draws us to her with that subtle seduction.
She is the quintessential Ugandan woman. Even when Monsieur bust her lip or when she got held up in the land of the rising sun, I want to hold on to that fantasy. Please do not bust the bubble.
SOURCE: Daily Monitor