To the only one I love

By Segun Ayobolu

(First published in the Daily Times newspaper of Friday, 7th March, 1997)

If this piece had been written to coincide with Valentine’s Day as originally intended, the message would most likely have gone unnoticed. It would have been drowned by the fast-paced, seductive tempo of Shina Peter’s Afro juju music, which, to mark this year’s Valentine anniversary, blared ever so loudly at the Lagos Airport Hotel. As they danced at various venues to the sonorous, soothing tunes of Lagbaja, the relentless, irrepressible rhythm of Kwam 1’s brand of Fuji or the rather sexually explicit stage vibrations of Fela Anikulapo Kuti, very few would have bothered to read an article which seeks to explore the mystery of this phenomenon called love in these troubled times. Now that most of us have almost recovered from the heady wine of the Valentine celebration, we should be sober enough to examine more closely a yearly ritual that gulps so much of our time, energy and scarce financial resources.

What exactly is this thing called love that plays such a prominent role in the lives of men? It is the theme of books ranging from the holy scriptures of various religions to the unabashedly sexually vivid novels of a Harold Robbins or a Nick Carter. It is the focus of films that span uplifting romantic documentaries through amorous home videos to those blue films that reduce human beings to panting animals on screen. It provided the inspiration for the soulful lyrics of the gifted Christian singer, Mary Mckee and the late Marvin Gaye’s timeless ode to the goddess of love – ‘sexual healing’. A friend of mine who is of an unrepentantly religious disposition contends that Mavin Gaye’s masterpiece has mortally wounded more souls than it has healed. I may not be qualified to comment on that.

But what, I ask again, is this phenomenon that sustains the flourishing industry which Valentine has become? Love for nation plunged the world into major wars that destroyed million of human lives and has been responsible for countless minor but no less devastating conflicts. Love for tribe has often fertilized the soil of hatred and bitterness resulting in the break- up of nations and the bestiality of war. Even love for God has often inspired crusades and jihads meant to terminate the perceived worthless lives of fellow human beings on planet earth. Love for partner has often bred jealousies resulting in the most despicably tragic acts of human wickedness.

Have jealous lovers not been known to bathe their rivals or unfaithful partners in bucketfuls of corrosive acid? We have read of apparently momentarily deranged husbands who beheaded some unfortunate man for cavorting with their irresponsible wives? Did the prophet, Samson, not reveal his secret and truncate his mission on the altar of love to Delilah? Can we forget in a hurry a former chief of our drug-fighting agency whose career was cut short on the platform of revealed love notes to his own Delilah? What about the great King David, who, in a moment of uncontrolled passion, was lured to commit adultery and compounded his sin with murder? Who indeed can penetrate the intricacies of this mysterious emotive force?

However we see it, what is undeniable is that love is a viable commercial enterprise. Nothing demonstrates this better than Valentine’s Day. Valentine has become big business. And the reason for this is not far-fetched. As someone recently noted and rightly too: “Industry and media have made an art of sexual seduction. We are surrounded by those who know that they can make a living by stirring up and fanning the flames of sexual desire. Television, radio, music, video, movie, publishing, advertising and clothing industries are all exploiting our misunderstood and misdirected longings for intimacy”.

Seedy houses of vice where fornicating couples can wish each other happy Valentine without the slightest pangs of conscience, five-star hotels, pepper-soup joints, local Bukas, cinema houses, theatres, and so on especially enjoy a tremendous boom in the season of Valentine. It is also one of the peak periods for musicians, especially those inclined to singing songs of salacious variety. Perhaps those who profit most from Valentine are the producers of valentine cards. There is an infinite variety in the market at ever rising prices. There are the cards expressing love to father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, grandparents, grandchildren, employer, colleague, fiancé, girlfriend, boyfriend, wife and husband.

Married couples disposed to adultery can even buy two sets of cards – one for the legitimate partner and another for the unofficial one outside the home. Our irresistible in-house cartoonist, Yomi Ola, sometime ago captured the irony of Valentine in a characteristically brilliant portrait: Pointing to a particular card that caught her fancy, a love-struck woman said to a road side card seller: “Can I have FIVE of that card with the caption, TO THE ONLY ONE I love?” No, there is no adultery or unfaithfulness in the wonderful, fantasy world of Valentine. As it was in the beginning, so it is, so shall it be, love without end. Amen.

I am sure that on Valentine Day, the victimizing lecturer found an appropriate card for his vulnerable student val who, knowing of the knife of threatened failure pointing at her neck, plays ball. Oh yes, the randy boss surely found a card for his frightened and submissive secretary who well aware of the sword of stalled promotion dangling over her head plays along. The calculating female subordinate, systematically sleeping her way to the top in the workplace, certainly got suitable cards for her male bosses at critical points on the promotion route. Ah, how fortunate we are: there are cards for all at valentine!

But why are we so blessed with a version of love that breeds unwanted pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases, sexual abuse and broken homes? Is the seed of unwanted pregnancy not sown in a vanishing moment of heated passion? How about the marriage institution which should be the greatest model of love? Think of Winnie and Mandela or Charles and Diana. Think of the littered trail of broken marriages, which trump the number of successful ones. Think of the even more crowded arena of unhappy marriages full of suspicion, hostility and tension? Will the marriage institution survive the pervasive lack of love in today’s world especially in this age of democratized and liberalized values?

Yet there are those who insist that what we celebrate at valentine is not love but its perversion – lust. Genuine love, they say, can be found in the teaching of the man of Galilee. Love your enemies. Pray for those who hate you. Turn the other cheek when slapped. Keep no record of wrongs. Think and expect the best of all. Love your neighbor as yourself. If you do, you won’t seduce his wife, covet his property or exploit his or her body for your selfish pleasure. Others see this as an unattainable ideal. Long live, then, the spirit of Valentine?