Not all men, but always a man

Emmanuel sent my friend a message. Not a long message. Not even a creative one. Just one line.

“I’ve never tasted a Muslim pussy before.”

And this was sent to a woman he has never met, a complete stranger, with no prior connection, no invitation, nothing.

There are moments when you read something and your brain pauses, like it needs a few seconds to process whether what you just saw is real. It’s the kind of message that makes you wonder what exactly goes through someone’s head before they press send. Do they pause to reread it? Because the sheer audacity of it? This was one of those moments. Not because harassment is rare. Unfortunately, it isn’t. But because of how cruel and specific it was.

Not just sexual. Not just vulgar. But strangely targeted.

This is the part where we’re supposed to ask: what made Emmanuel think that was okay? But I’m less interested in that question than I used to be. Because we already know the answer. Emmanuel thought it was okay because no one taught him otherwise. Because the internet handed him a screen and a distance and told him it didn’t count. Because somewhere, somehow, he learned that women, especially certain women, women who look different, pray differently, dress differently are available for this kind of attention whether they want it or not.

He sent it because he could. That’s the whole answer.

There is something particularly vile about dragging religion into sexual entitlement. Not just vulgar ooo, deliberate. The word “Muslim” in that sentence isn’t incidental. It’s the point. Emmanuel wasn’t attracted to her. He was attracted to the idea of her as something exotic, something untouched by men like him, something he could add to a private inventory of experiences.

Emmanuel reduced something sacred to something consumable. And then he pressed send, and he didn’t think about it again.

Think about what it actually takes to send a message like that. You have to believe, on some level, that the woman on the other end exists for your entertainment. That her inbox is a space you have access to. That your curiosity about her body is information she needs to have. That she will read it and feel, what exactly? Flattered? eiii. Intrigued? Like she should engage? mtchewwww.

The confidence required is extraordinary. Na why women dey always question man audacity. He didn’t pause before sending it. I mean, obviously. We know this because men who pause don’t send messages like that. The pause is where you think: how would I feel if someone sent this to my sister? My mother? A woman I actually respect? (that’s if he respects women at all)

The most disturbing thing about a message like this isn’t its existence. It’s how unremarkable it is. How many women have received something like it. How many men have sent something like it without ever being asked to account for it. How thoroughly it has been absorbed into the background noise of being a woman online.

We have built an internet, and honestly, a world where this kind of thing is so normal that the conversation moves immediately to how women should handle it, rather than stopping to interrogate the fact that it keeps happening at all. No one ever made it inconvenient enough to think otherwise. No one ever held up a mirror. No one ever said: look at what you’re doing. Look at yourself.

So we’re saying it now. Not because it will necessarily change Emmanuel. People like this rarely change from a single piece of writing on the internet. But because the women who read this deserve to see it named clearly, without apology, without the usual softening.

What Emmanuel did was not normal. What he did was not a compliment. What he did was treat a stranger like she was an object with a religious label on it, and fire off a message that told her, in one sentence, exactly how little she registered to him as a human being.

And Emmanuel thought nothing of it. That’s the part we refuse to let go unremarked. That’s the part that deserves to be said out loud.

And that’s why naming names matters. Because some people need to be confronted with the reality of their actions.

Ibukun Emmanuel Ibiyemi, this isn’t charm. You sexually harassed a woman. You reduced a woman to an object for your curiosity. It’s unacceptable. It is the embodiment of entitlement and disrespect, and it will be called out for exactly what it is. Loudly and clearly!!!

That's his name, girlies. Let's know who to avoid.

Your anonymous bestie

Ree 🤍