Heard about the good old female biological clock? It’s a layman’s way of describing the natural decline of female fertility with age. It begins in the late teens and early twenties and significantly decreases in the 30s. Natural conception becomes more unlikely by age 45 due to a decrease in egg quantity and quality.
Oh, how society has weaponised this natural phenomenon. Women are shamed into early marriage when their clock is at the optimum and treated like pariahs when they cross the wrong side of 30. The stigma has dwindled in recent times with the fair sex now even concentrating on careers before settling down. Which is a plus for us perpetual singles.
What most people don’t
talk about is that men also do have a biological clock that can affect their
fertility and offspring health. Sperm quality begins to decline around age
40-45 and older paternal age is associated with increased risks for conception
difficulties, miscarriages and certain birth defects in children. So, yes. The
reason you might not be getting pregnant if your significant other is riding
the 4th floor, he might be shooting blanks.
Oh, the simple days, when nature dictated our lives. Nowadays, it’s not so simple. Smoking, alcohol, drugs, medications… All these and more have thrown the clocks into disarray. The quality of today’s offspring has surely gone down the hill. But what can I say? You cannot inhale weed, chew tobacco or muguka 24/7 and expect to sire new Ngugi wa Thong’os or Grace Ogots.
It may not be the chief reason I don’t want kids, but it’s right up there. Nowadays, kids are a whole different bread. From quite a young age, they have no respect for their elders. They will mouth off to their seniors and won’t pause their games to let them pass. Like mindless robots, they even play tag with moving vehicles.
And once they grow older, they have no penchant for hard work. I mean, we have almost an entire generation that thinks they will grow up to be famous on social media and never have to put in an honest day’s work. I don’t mean to bring down all kids. In fact, I know a few who challenge my intellect with only a short sit-down, but that doesn’t excuse the lot.
The reason for this poor rant is that, everything I’ve mentioned has me thinking. I’m fast approaching 40, and given the work through which I’ve put my reproduction system, my window for bearing a respectably regular child is closing fast. I fear that I may have wasted all my Ali Mazruis and all I have left are rampant Wanugus. If ever there was a time I should be convinced to procreate, it’s now.
However, the necessary
mechanism is yet to fall in place. It’s not easy to be upfront and tell a woman
that although I don’t desire a long-term relationship, I’m open to having a kid
that I will bring up remotely. Oh, wait a minute. That would have to be an 18-year
relationship at the very least, right?
Boy, am I doomed.
