Oh, Fantasia...

That Antwaun Cook is fine as hell. Mocha soft skin, the colour of a brazen cocoa pod in tropic heat, lips that are full, sensuous and perfectly formed, sculpted Grecian features dipped in caramel, mounted on a perfectly chiselled body . Fantasia Barrino surely knows how to pick them. She says they met the former college football player at T Mobile and they fell in love. (Which T-Mobile?) He told her he was separated. Guess what? He wasn’t. He was still married to another woman called Paula. That didn’t prevent her from moving him into her house, tattooing his name on her body, and making a sex tape (allegedly). I am surprised that the shit only literally hit the fan a couple weeks ago. Antwaun soon became bored of playing happy families, missed his children and perhaps Paula’s good stuff, and decided he wanted to pack up his toys and go home. Fantasia, who was clearly in a bad place, overdosed in an apparent suicide attempt.

If I were privileged enough to meet Ms Barrino, I would tell her a few home truths that I have amassed in the little time I have spent on this earth. First of all I would discuss the incendiary topic of married men. A brief recap: it never ends well. Then I would tell her never to go out with a man whose mother couldn’t spell his goddamn name right. I know her name is Fantasia but at least it is spelt right. If a man’s own mother couldn’t be bothered, it says a lot about his upbringing. I would also tell Fantasia what I always tell fellow sisters: we need to stop going for Fine. Beyonce, with all the fame and beauty in the world didn’t go for Fine. Neither did Kimora Lee Simmons, momtrepeneur. Fine doesn’t help to pay the bills and Fine doesn’t pay school fees or set up a 401k plan or pensions. You are Fine’s pension.

Then I would give her a hug. Why? Because Fantasia Monique Barrino didn’t lie to us about who or what she was. In my eyes, she will always be that talented but unpolished young girl from South Carolina, who graduated from the University of Hard Knock way before her time. In my eyes, she will always be that teenager who was raped, harassed and teased and who sought redemption through the birth of her daughter Zion when she was 16. In my eyes, she will always be that young woman with low self esteem who battled the pain of an abusive boyfriend. She didn’t preach to us about how good she was or how much of a role model she was; she admits and confesses that she is trying in her own way to figure things out. I can almost believe Mrs Cook’s version of events as set out in her affidavit that Fantasia taunted her “He don’t want you. Maybe next time you get a husband you will know how to keep him”. She is feisty and rough enough around the edges, but also insecure and naive enough to seek that type of validation, believing that the man in her bed is hand on heart telling her the truth that his “heart is not in his marriage”. I am not saying that she should have believed him, and I do not give her a pass, but my heart bleeds for her. Not only because she is in a place where many of us have been and where some of us reside, but also, and most of all, because she is currently the victim of unfair media treatment.

Fantasia is allegedly in hospital because of some very critical comments in cyberland, portraying her as a hussy, a homewrecker and a slut. However, these very same sources have been welcoming and accepting of my favourite adulterous couple- Ms Keys and Mr Beatz. (It already sounds ridiculous. Will the kids be called Rhythm and Song?). I too gasped at Alicia in her wedding dress; she absolutely glowed But quelle hypocrisie! Fantasia’s affair was treated as cheap, tawdry and dirty- of the type that was suited for a Quality Inn, whereas Alicia Keys alleged (fuck the alleged) affair was painted recounted as a fairy tale- A Princess meeting her Prince Charming , whose love could not be separated by the minutiae of the fact that he already had a wife and three kids (one illegitimate, one legitimate and one unclaimed). If Fantasia’s affair was KFC, Alicia’s was a gourmet meal cooked by a Michelin starred chef. Isn’t it ridiculous?

In Fantasia’s defence, she did not even get pregnant before the ink was dry on the decree nisi- all she did was go on a jet-ski with the damned man. Yet, because she is not America’s sweetheart, she is now pummelled and beat up on whilst everyone coos over Alicia’s perfectly PR’d wedding photos and her bikini bod in her virginal white swimsuit to match. Our double standards are startling. Especially considering that Fantasia, in spite of how the media loves to portray her as “ghetto” has revealed that she has what I call “home training” and has issued a statement saying that she is “heartbroken and sorry for any pain that she has caused”. Alicia Keys and Swiss are still in la-la land, swearing that love conquered all, while poor Mashonda has been pouring her little heart out in Vibe Magazine saying that she genuinely wishes them all the best, even though she would not wish the pain she suffered on any other woman. Sounds like a chick after my own heart. Being a feminist is not just about equal pay and equal rights and working wages and belting out “Superwoman” at the top of your strained lungs- it’s about sisterhood and treating each other as we would like to be treated ourselves. Maybe I am prejudiced, but I didn’t expect Fantasia to have learnt that lesson yet so it does not surprise me that she has found herself in such an uncompromising and painful public position: it is hard to have solidarity with others when you have been battling life alone. I won’t rehash the point but for Ms Keys- to whom much is given, much is also expected.

Some people have called me out on my Alicia Keys’ original post but I make no apologies- I stick soundly by it. And no, age and experience won’t temper my principles- that’s why they are called my principles. What other people do with their lives is not my business, but it becomes ripe for fair comment if they wish to preach and shove their “goodness” and “love and light” down my throat. I can only hope Fantasia finds someone worthy of her love. And I can only hope that Alicia Keys really does not find out what it means to try sleeping with a broken heart. Marriage involves sancrosanct vows. Unapologetically so, I will always be for Team Wife.

Why I won't be buying Alicia Keys' New Album

Alicia Keys begins her artist description on Twitter with the tagline “Light bearing Artist”. Well, I want to know what light she was bearing (must have been candlelight) when she decided that she needed to sleep with (and steal) Mashonda Tifrere’s husband Kasseem Dean otherwise known as Swiss Beatz.

I usually do not get involved in internet rumours (let’s leave that to Mediatakeout and Bossip) and I usually remember my dear Tan Phillipa’s voice uttering while she squeezed her chaplet “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” but I felt particularly betrayed by Ms Keys (I take that back, Alicia, I am losing the Ms).

I remember being hooked on “Falling” as we all were- a canerowed, authentic down home New York chick, a husky contralto voice almost easily creeping over tuneful piano, no overworked lyrics, she told it as it was “Sometimes I feel good, sometimes I feel used, loving you darling makes me so confused”. She was a witness for the 2000's, a throwback to the days when music had soul and passion, sold to us as the real deal, very dissimilar to a market-driven, manufactured and synthesized Knowles production, she was the one we had been waiting for. When she sang Superwoman, I felt like she was singing it for me and my sisters and my mothers and my best friends and it was my anthem for a few weeks (much to the consternation of my then housemates). She reminded all the trifling-ass men of what we were capable of in A Woman’s Worth “she rolls the mile; makes you smile, all the while, being true don't take for granted the passions that she has for you”. She was Oprah’s chosen one and heiress, founding member of “Keep a Child Alive”, her voice strained, imperfect and raw at times, but ultimately real.

I should probably say to disclose my conflict of interest that I am not one of the many women who understand the fascination or the thrill of the chase with breaking up a family and ultimately with having someone else’s man. The old clichés are often trotted out “It was meant to be’. Not it wasn’t, if it was, he wouldn’t have been already married. “They fell in love’. You choose who you want to fall in love with and contrary to Disney movies, love isn’t fairy dust and magic sparkle- it’s a passionate choice. “The marriage was already broken- you can’t break something that’s already broken”. I have spoken to people who have been married for a very long time and they often say that their marriage breaks at least 20 times during its course.  Marriage is hard work. You feel like you want to quit. You quit sometimes and start again but ultimately, marriage vows are sacrosanct. Who is to say a broken marriage cannot be pieced back together. Who are you to stamp on it further?

Maybe I just don’t get it because I was an only child. I am used to having my own things. I don’t like to share. I like being able to go to dinner and not have to sit out of view in the back of the restaurant. I like making plans openly and to walk down the street with my man’s hand held in mine without fear or secrecy. I like spending lazy Sunday evenings on the sofa with my boo and not worrying whether I am eating into someone else’s family time. I am also of that wise old age when I know that men lie. A lot. So they will say when you meet them that they don’t have a girl, that they are on the verge of moving out, that they are still with the mother of their child but they don’t love her anymore, that they are only there for the sake of their children, that the marriage exists on paper only, that they have a really good relationship with their ex (which includes sleeping over for the sake of little Junior), that they can’t leave yet because it is a bad time to sell the house. Yawn. I have heard it so many times before and yes, we all fell for it when we were eighteen and stupid but to fall for it when you are twenty nine, one of the best selling artists in the whole world, who has seen firsthand the state of black families in America, who claims to be a light bearer, who tweets “love and light” back at her followers and who claims to write lyrics that empower women, is disappointing and not what I expected. I feel that Alicia Keys is falser than a falsetto. Surely, she must have known that the man she was falling in love with had a wife who had just had a baby. Real women investigate. Real women say choose and don’t get involved until the choice is made. Call me naïve, call me not wise in the ways of the world but there is no way I can choose “spark” over “smart” and the betrayal I feel is that underneath the cheery smile, the strong lyrics is my disappointment that Alicia Keys is just a really dumb broad.

I judge her harshly because I think she deserves to be judged. Karma is a bitch. She has just announced her engagement and I wish her all the best (no I don’t) but there is no way this bastardly love child album is making it onto my Ipod. So she and her dude can keep their elements of freedom, freedom is also the ability to make sound and good choices.

Right now, I would pay to be Ms Tifrere because I would be getting paid. According to New York Alimony laws some of the factors to be taken into account in awarding alimony include the income and property of the respective parties, the future and earning capacities of both parties, the presence of children in each home, the ability of the party seeking alimony to be self supporting, the contributions of that party to being a homemaker, and the standard of living of the parties established during the marriage. Mashonda’s album was a commercial flop- she has not made a hit in years. Were I her, I would factor in that the likelihood of my obtaining a hit record was more than likely to be zero, and that the combined earning power of KeysBeatz to be in the region of $50 million a year. I would also factor in that I need a home to take care of his child. Were I Ms Tifrere, I would become a Real Housewife of New York and would request at least $1 million a month to keep myself in the manner that a spurned wife should be expected to.

Then I would hit him on child support. New York Guidelines say 17% of your gross income for each child (plus childcare, medical and educational expenses) but because his income is over $80,000 the total amount would be likely to be almost 30% of gross pay because child support is based on what the parents would have contributed if the parents still lived together. So no, you naysayers, a child does not need a $70,000 nursery but if Daddy would have bought it if he still lived at home, little Tanashaka will get it. And rightly so, why should he be balling and his children life on the regular?

And then I would move to North Carolina or another state that recognises the tort of alienation of affection, try to obtain jurisdiction and sue Alicia Keys for intentionally and maliciously interfering with a marriage. Cynthia Shackelford just successfully sued her husband’s mistress for $9 million. Now that’s a woman’s worth.

This article forms part of my Weekend Entertainment Focus