A Piss taking Idiom

Igbo idioms are like verbal sequins—little gems of wisdom that add sparkle to the Igbo language. Using them fluently can elevate one to the status of a linguistic Michelangelo, chiselling beauty into everyday conversations.  

During a recent trip to my village, I was coerced into attending a meeting of the Umunna (kindred) to discuss how to bring more stable power supply to the village. Amid this serious discussion, one kin – possibly as a bid to inflate his sagging self-esteem—decided to flex his proverbial muscles. He dropped the following Igbo idiom, not once, but thrice for emphasis:  

A nyụkọ mamịrị ọnụ, ọ gba ụfụfụ.  

Translation: When we urinate together on the same spot, it foams.  

Meaning: Communal effort has a multiplying effect; united we stand, divided we beg.  

Now, I get the sentiment—teamwork makes the dream work. But as soon as he said it, my overactive brain got stuck in a gender studies rabbit hole. Here’s the thing: biological women cannot pee on the same spot at the same time. So… are they excluded from communal efforts entirely? Is the foam club a boys-only affair? A stretch, I know—but the mental gymnastics were real.  

Next, my thoughts took a darker, more unholy turn. What kind of Adult content is my daily Bible-verse-sharing, Sunday-service-leading, prayer warrior kin consuming that made this adage his top pick? 

And let’s talk about the origin of this idiom. Which Igbo elder-slash-philosopher-slash-kink connoisseur came up with it? Were they standing in the village square, watching a group of men take a synchronized leak, and thinking, “Yes, this perfectly captures the spirit of community!”? What even is the logic? Was the foam the inspiration? Or was it the visual of a coordinated pissing circle? Were they just examining the physics— and the, ahem, anatomy as well?  

And let’s not ignore the spectators. There had to be onlookers, right? I mean, imagine the scene: a semi-circle of men aiming for the same spot, while someone stands there, nodding sagely, muttering, “Unity, at its finest.” Did they notice who was a shower versus a grower? Was there a judging panel? A scoring system?  

At this point, my mental detour went completely off-road. The visual reminded me of a bukkake situation I once found myself in, last summer on a secluded naturist beach in Puglia, Italy  

There were three of us guys and one of the them insisted we finish on his face—fine, no biggie. But this move apparently emboldened a few previously shy onlookers (who had been keeping a respectable-ish distance) to step up and, well, “contribute to the cause.” Let’s just say the parallels between that beach scene and the idiom were far too vivid for comfort. But hey, that’s a story for another day.  

Back in the village meeting, I was jolted out of my inappropriate reverie by the sound of my name. Turns out, as my punishment for living abroad, I’d been assigned the bulk of the contribution. Bloody Piss takers. Naturally, I couldn’t protest, lest someone ask where my head was during the meeting. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t on finances.  

Village People: 1 

Keredim: 0 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!