I’m sharing this story because of the farting story the other lady shared with us yesterday. A lot of people gave their advice and went ahead to share their experiences. I wanted to share mine too but I realized it was going to be a long comment. So why not bring it here as the main story so other people would learn from it too. 

I dated my husband for four years before we got married. He is just like me—outgoing and free-spirited. So we clicked right from the word go. We could do everything together and goof in front of each other without care. It was lovely and fun each time we met each other. After all the vibe and connection between us, there was one thing I couldn’t do. That’s farting in front of him. And it wasn’t a topic I was going to bring up for discussion. One day I was sitting in front of his car when the air around us changed. I didn’t think he could do that so the first thing was to look out the window and check if we were closer to the refuse dump or a public toilet. I didn’t see any of that around. I looked at him and he turned away.

Just after a few minutes into the drive, it happened again. This time it was intense than the first one. I lowered my glass and looked at him. He looked away. From the direction where the scent was coming from, it could only come from him but I didn’t say anything. Maybe it was an accident. I didn’t want to bring it up for him to be embarrassed. And then it happened again. Boy, I was suffering. All the windows were down but still, the scent was inside the car. I looked at his face and he was covering his nose with his finger. I asked, “Are you having a runny stomach? Or you ate something gassy?” He laughed. Then I realized everything was intentional. He said, “Maybe it’s the waakye I ate this morning. I can’t hold it.”

Even when he had done it in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to retaliate. Whenever I was with him and felt the urge to do it, I would just go to the washroom, pretend I was going to urinate, and do it there. If it wasn’t an emergency and I could hold it, I would hold it until my tummy starts to bloat before I get up and do it.” We were in the hall when he started all over again. These series weren’t silent. They were loud and long with cartoonish sound effects. He’ll do it and laugh. When I thought I’ve had enough, I got up and left. So one evening, I ripped a loud and long one in front of him. He was on the sofa but he jumped off the sofa and ran. When he came back he said, “Eiii, you too you fart? A fine girl like you?”

So from that evening, it became a plaything. He would do it and I would sit there. Immediately I do it, he’ll get up and leave. I stopped commissioning loud missiles and instead went low and silent. He would be lying there enjoying the Tv and all of a sudden the thing would enter him, he’ll jump off and go into the bedroom. He did it and I did too. When he goes loud I go loud. When he goes low I go low. Boot for boot kind of thing. Like some commenters said yesterday, it adds to the relationship. It brings this sort of freedom between you two. To me, the most difficult thing for anyone is to go naked in front of a stranger. The next difficult thing to do is to fart in front of a stranger. Not the silent kind of fart that no one knows where it came from. I’m talking about the loud and proud one. The one you do it and pat yourself at the back and claim ownership of it. 

That’s why you won’t fart in front of your boss or go naked in front of your boss unless there’s a relationship. So to get to a level where two people can go naked in front of each other and not feel any kind of shame. Or fart in front of each other and still feel no shame. Then it means you’ve built something that transcends shame and conquers the common fear we have for each other. It’s the ultimate form of connection. The pinnacle of all togetherness. So I was very happy with my boyfriend. When there’s something I have to tell him and I’m shy, I tell myself, “Even fart, I fart in front of him. What is this that I can’t share?” I would go ahead and tell him and surprisingly, he would be receptive and give me the necessary support.

After four years of dating and farting free in front of each other, we decided to get married. He came to do the knocking, got his list and we started getting the things on the list. One afternoon I was in his kitchen cooking for him.  He was working on his computer or watching TV in the hall. I don’t remember exactly what he was doing but he wasn’t in the kitchen with me. I don’t know what was wrong with my tummy that day but every now and then I would fart small and continue cooking. I was alone in there so it didn’t matter. The scent wasn’t good at all so I kept asking myself, “What at all did I eat that my buttocks is talking like that?” 

I gave one silent shot. Just when it was about to go viral, my boyfriend entered the kitchen and threw his hand around my neck, trying to pick one of the fried fish. All of a sudden the thing entered his head. He removed his hand from my neck and took a step back. I said in my head, “Aboa, the thing shock am.” He stood there for a second trying to ask a question and the thing entered him again. He ran out of the kitchen and went straight to the hall. He couldn’t even pick the fish he came for. It was funny the way it happened so I was laughing. I laughed to myself until I finished cooking and went to the hall. He wasn’t there. I called his name, no answer. I went to the bedroom and he was lying there silently. He wouldn’t talk to me or even look at my face. I said, “Dear, what happened? Why are you silent? Have you received some bad news?

He charged up and started shouting; “Why would you do that? A woman like you fart in the food you’re cooking for your man?” Is the kitchen a place to fart? You were cooking for christ’s sake. Why would you do that?” I realized the thing was really hurting him so I had to play fast. I said, “No, it wasn’t a fart. It was the mɔmɔne I was using to cook. How would I do that? No, I didn’t” Of course he didn’t believe me. I went to the bathroom and spotted stains that looked like vomit. Wow, my guy has really suffered. So for the rest of the night, this guy didn’t talk to me. He didn’t eat the food I cooked. Even when I said I was going home, he didn’t mind me.

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For one whole week, this guy was playing cold. I would call and he would pick up but would not say anything. I would do all the talking and apologize on top. I would send him a message and he would respond, “k”. Eiii, e be fart I fart oo, I no kill person?” But this guy continued playing hard with me until we had a sit-down conversation. He said,  “We are going to get married soon. That’s a sign of growth so we have to start acting our age and level. No more farting in front of each other. I’m not saying you don’t have to do it. You can but not in my presence. And there are places we can’t fart knowing very well that each of us may walk into that space at any moment. We don’t do it in the bedroom. We don’t do it in the hall. We don’t do it in the Kitchen. Let me repeat, we don’t do it in the kitchen. I said we can’t do it in the kitchen or any place we sit and eat. You can be alone in the washroom and do your thing there.”

I asked, “What about in the car?” He answered, “If it’s urgent. I will stop for you to get out.” I thought we had exhausted all the rules. Just when we were about to get up he said, “I nearly forgot. From now on, don’t cook my food with mɔmɔni again. I hate it and don’t want it in my food.”

Eiish, small fart I fart see rules. 

We’ve been married for three years now and I’ve never farted in his presence. Even when I’m sleeping next to him and I fart in my dreams, I would have to wake up and apologize. He doesn’t do it in my presence too. We have our peace of mind to do all things and goof around. So far so good. I can’t complain and I know he can’t complain too. 

So what am I saying?

We are mostly advised to use the dating period to ask questions and discuss important issues such as finance, accommodation, who does what, and who doesn’t do what. After exhausting all these questions, I think we should bring farting into the conversation too if we think it’s that important to us. It’s better to discuss it and accept the terms to avoid future surprises because eiiii…  

—Jessica

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