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“Some Western investigators are curious to probe into the sanctorum of African love life. They look to observe us kiss in the market-places and in the streets; they see nothing. They hide in the alleys and behind trees and come out seeing no lovers to scare. They watch us in schools and churches, in the marriage ceremonials and on the stage; still, no love demonstration is reported. Some of them come out greatly wondering whether or not the African loves. They ask, if he loves, how, where, and when?
Love is so sacred an affair between two persons that no third party has the privilege of seeing them in action. It is sorrounded with utmost respect and secrecy. Parents do not discuss it at home nor in public; writers do not describe it; preachers do not infer it; youth do not dream it. Love is not imagined. It is felt, expressed but not suppressed. It is encouraged, not discouraged; enjoyed, not detested; practised, not idealized.”
Cf. Mbonu Ojike, My Africa (1955), p. 135.
