There would be government press conferences, because that’s what governments do best, announce nothing with the most fanfare, while making it seem like it was their idea in the first place.
If human beings had a mating season like wildebeests or flamingos, it wouldn’t just happen quietly. Oh no. There would be alerts and HR emails. Your mother would call you to say It has started, and that you better not disappoint this time, like you have been doing for the past four years.
Somewhere around late August, a government spokesperson would stand behind a podium and say, “Citizens are advised that Mating Season 2026 will officially commence at midnight. Please plan accordingly.”
Perfume sellers would run Buy One Get One Free offers on scents with pheromones (does this really work, or it’s just one of those advertising gimmicks.) Gyms would be packed beyond capacity. Instagram would become a wildlife documentary narrated by someone who sounds suspiciously like David Attenborough:
“Here we observe the urban male adjusting his haircut for the fourth time this week, hoping to attract a mate…”
But, for all the circus, one silver lining is that the talking stage would finally be abolished.
There would be no “Hey, just checking if you got home safe” or the infamous “What are we?” conversations. The season would begin and everyone would know the assignment. It would be all systems go! Imagine the efficiency. Six weeks of chaos, then calm. The rest of the year? Peace and productivity.
Corporate productivity would plummet during the season. Chaos all around as headlines go unmet and zoom meetings get suspiciously shorter.
“Sorry, my Wi-Fi is unstable,” someone would say, clearly not at home.
And then now, imagine all the nonsense posts that would be flying on LinkedIn, announcing rubbish and while somehow managing to make it feel like humanity’s greatest intervention.
“Proud to announce that after an intense six week sprint, I have successfully secured a life partner. Grateful for the growth.” No, LinkedIn would be unhinged….
Have you seen peacocks? That would be us. Sequins at 9 a.m complete with a full glam to buy bread. Someone would absolutely show up to work in feathers…also, we would be twerking while crossing the road, twerking while waiting for matatus, twerking while doing everything. Someone said twerking was invented because subconsciously when the woman shaked her ass, her female scent would drift up to the male nose….that twerking is in it’s most basic form, a mating call.
Now, while everyone is busy having the time of their life, Introverts would need official permits to stay indoors. “I respectfully decline participation in this year’s festivities,” they would write in formal letters as extroverts are outside performing elaborate courtship rituals in the parking lot (like I said, twerking)
Hospitals would know exactly when the baby boom was coming. Nine months later, maternity wards would be fully booked with precision timing. School admissions would be easier because everyone would be the same age. No more guessing birth years. Entire generations would be born in neat, organized batches like limited edition sneakers.
And imagine the breakups.
You wouldn’t have to drag things out for months. The season ends, feelings evaporate, everyone goes back to arguing about politics and petrol prices. Or, which side to “stand with” between Iran and the evil duo.
It’s the poets, me thinks, that would suffer. No more dramatic we met in the most unexpected way stories. Everyone met during Mating Season. In aisle seven near the avocados. Well, it was her twerking that caught my eye.…..
And yet…
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.
There would be structure. A beginning and an end. No 2 a.m. overthinking. Just a clearly defined biological window where everyone collectively loses their composure and then returns to normal life slightly embarrassed but spiritually stronger in the knowledge that they are fulfilling God’s intended purpose for humanity.
Or maybe, just hear me out, human beings already have a mating season. It’s called December.
Think about all the weddings and reunions. The matching outfits, Detty December. Suspicious spikes in romance around festive lights and soft music. We pretend we’re evolved, but are we really? Because the evidence is glittering.
In conclusion, if humans had a mating season, it would be dramatic and heavily sponsored. There would be billboards and hashtags. But I also cannot help but think this would be the perfect distraction season for politicians. What better time to pull off all those corruption deals?
But at least we’d all know what’s going on.
Unlike now, when we’re just out here… freelancing.
