Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Time to face facts.

He was exciting at first, he made me alive.
It was like i'd been in this shell for so long yet he effortlessly pulled me out. He made me see the sun, i could smile more. He'd hold my hand and all thoughts would disappear from my head. Was it was the mystery that made me stay, the joy of threading where no woman had stepped? Or the thrill of adventure in his eyes so deep?
Like all women who date bad boys, i really thought i could tame him.
Some think i need to attain closure, i say i feel nothing. I have no residual feelings to deal with and for the first time in a long while, i'm free and happy with it.
Y is for Yinka, my bad boy crush i had for all of a year.The actual encounter occurs in two months yet it's like i age for ten years. Barely two months and i can't recall that floating feeling he inspired in me.
I am not a typical goody two shoes. i'd even argue about being called any kind of good girl but i am, much as i hate to admit it, i really am. And Yinka for some reason i cannot explain liked me. Maybe it was the challenge thing, i've been told i portray a kind of untouchable front But I was enthralled mainly because he was different, he represented a world i couldn't grasp, like emphasizing the difference between bread and butter.
In his world, he was hot with no effort,his whole ideal centered on having fun. He'd throw on casual shirt and pants and i'd still trip for his effortless grace, he'd pass by and his scent draws you in. But we were different, too different. In his world, evry night was to the club as mine was to getting a good night sleep.And he'd drink booze like water and smoke like a chimney.However, i was having too much fun to care about differences, i knew it wasn't going to last,my only intent was to survive the adventure with no permanent damage. He was sweet when he wanted to be. He'd text me a million times just to see how i was doing. He'd bring me pizza and we'd watch a tearjerker . One time, he bought me this pink huge Teddy bear that caused an uproar. it was so alarmingly bourgeois i couldn't stop laughing. I am not stupid, i knew it was going to last, but i didn't spend my time thinking of how it was going to end. And my friends, with their disapproval, made me like him the more. And i thought 'finally, a relationship they disapprove of' He liked me, he tried to make me like his world. i followed him clubbing once. I didn't enjoy it. Too much smoke, too much noise, too much music that made my head pound. He tried to make me drink. i told him i didn't drink, not frequently anyway. Alcohol does nothing for me i explained, no taste just a lot of hotness in your throat. He asks if i've ever heard of a daiquiri. Yes, still not interested. He orders me a drink anyway. How dumb do you think i am? Besides drinks have started to scare since i heard of Spanish fly. I don't drink so he tries to tease me with a lot of necking . He's surprised when i say i want to leave. He cajoles me but my mind's made up.
How did i get to be the helpless good girl in the scenario where badboy softens her up in the bar of some dimly lit club.I never went back with him. I told him about the big V . 'Why' he asks. I tell him why, he keeps quiet telling me he respects my decision. Still didn't stop him from heated kisses trying to push my buttons.'You're wicked' he declares one day and i burst out laughing. why did that feel like a compliment?
This all occured in the space of two months, we never defined our relationship, we never denied it too. i was having so much fun with his spur of the moment unpredictable character.Until one day, when i put a stop on it. I got bored, thanks to my low threshold for boredom. I got bored of his seeming to have no thought other than fun. I got bored of his mediocre friends and the groupie thong. I got bored of his many messages, my phone capacity exhausted.i realised we couldn't manage a sane conversation without it turning erotic. I got bored with no friends to hear me gush about him. i started retreating from whatever feelings i may have begun with. It was time to face facts, time to ask myself how thick a skin i've got, how much adventure could i handle? do i keep staying with him because he gives me a high? was i wasting time on him when i could be having a normal relationship and how long more before i start to get emotionally involved? I started to see him for what he was,a child in a grown man's physique stuck in Freud's oral phase with his obsession of things to put in his mouth. Of food, drinks or cigarettes, the need for immediate gratification.It was hard quitting cold tuckey but i knew my virtues, and being the female who enjoys the process of nurturing was not part of it.
My 0.5 . I've always been scared of love, with him i wasn't.The feelings were new, they weren't threatening. It was there in the inane urge to spend the entire day with him, the million years that fly when we talk. It was then i discovered a truth about me. Though i profess to scoff at love, i'm not so different from the populace who search for love.

Saturday, April 18, 2009


Okay, it's official. I accept the fact that women are one of the craziest creatures to have evr roamed the surface of the earth. And NO, i am not a man. It's taken me years and years of arguing with males who'd lament and I'd call chauvinists[even my baby sister who's ten now knows the meaning]and females I'd call traitors to finally get to this point where i admit, That women have issues. And No, I don't mean Menstruation, PMS or Pregnancy. Before i go on and on about the atrocities of girl on girl, i shall attempt to dissect the origins of these thoughts in the hope that it'll probably make more sense more by writing than by speaking.
What is it about women in high places? Why do they have to be so rude as if that executive chair is their birthright . About three years ago when i got admission to the university a fresh second year student, one of my many joys asides leaving home and no mathematics was the thought that i was done with teachers. Every vacation since SS1, I'd be regaled with stories of campus life from my cousins who put all the glory in university. i'd hear tales of friends, events, lecturers who just 'lecture' and the many organizations to join. Hence, i had a vision of how my college life would be, no stress, no teachers, just fun. i wasn't planning to be bad but i knew how liberating it'd be with nobody breathing down your back;'go to lectures' so, imagine my surprise when i got into the typical Nigerian university and discovered the stress involved. The endless days of registration where i had to stay under the relentless hot sun queueing with a million other students just for that signature on my course form, the agony of all the medical tests i had to undergo and the accommodation? Do not get me started on that. However before i start to digress, my encounter with her started on one hot Tuesday afternoon. The day had started on a bad note since i cricked my neck, my cousin had to take me to the clinic, and missed class, but in the afternoon i felt better, so i decided to go sign my GES form. GES is an acronymn of general studies, a situation where a medical student was obligated to study philosophy or logic for one semester[bite me!]. I arrived at the lecturer's office all sweaty and tired at about 1;05 pm. only to discover her office door closed with a pasted inscription of. 'SIGNING COURSE FORMS PROCEEDS FROM 9;OOAM TO 1;OOPM FROM MONDAYS TO THURSDAYS.' I glanced at my watch, only five minutes past. So i thought, what the hey, there was no harm in trying. i knocked on the door and met the secretary who directed me to the massive woman sitting behind the wooden desk. she stared at me beneath her spectacles. 'Yes?'
Ma'am i'd like to sign my course form please.' I said. Long moments, breathes heavily, drops pen dramatically.
'what's your name' She asks 'I'm 'SOLA ma. '
'so, sola, you're new here right?' 'Yes ma'am'
'But you did English in school, didn't you?' 'Yes' i reply
'So you can read clearly. what is the time now?' 'Ten minutes past one.'
'Then you must be blind as well as new or did you not read the writing on the door, would you get out of my office!'
I didn't realise i had tears falling down my eyes until i felt the wetness. i mean, here i was; ill, tired, and sweating like a Christmas goat and all she had to do was sign one measly form. she'd have signed the form in a quarter of the time spent insulting me. And even if she wasn't going to, a simple NO would have sufficed. That day, not for a second did i attribute her behaviour to being a woman but to the miserable venting of a sick person but three years later, after countless experiences, in another environment, i had to agree with a male when he whispered that word.'Women!'
It was a new posting in paediatrics, an introductory class. And the HOD, a fifty something looking woman with 'deeper lifer' long skirt, sensible shoes, no make up and no smile took up the one hour class bringing home the message. 'Never ever tell me 'i'm sorry'. I hate people apologising to me. why would you apologise if you'd done the right thing in the first instance. If you mess up, acknowledge the fact and don't apologise to me. Your apology does not bring back a dead patient, does it. You can save it for the judge when you get slapped with a million naira law suit.' The gist of what she lectured, along with other issues not pertaining to the study of medicine. Anyways, after the class,my group were on a ward round with a jovial senior resident showing us the ropes when Prof Bitchy passes by and her armload of about five case notes falls off so i bent to help her amidst whispers of careful ma, sorry ma. I gathered the case notes and was about handing it to her when she announced, 'carry them and follow me' Egbami o! I only stopped to help and i turn out to be the help ,so i try to explain to her that my group was on a ward round and that the resident was carrying on without me. But she totally combusts raking on and on about how Adam was the first man.
'If i get you right, are you saying you cannot carry these notes?'
'No ma, it's just..' ' i asked you to do something and you dare tell me you can't'
'it's not like that..'
'Johnson!' she calls, beckoning to the senior reg who runs up like samuel hearing the call of God. 'This student says she's with you and would not carry my files.'
'oh, they're new here ma, they don't yet understand how things are done here.' Says Dr Johnson. 'I'm sorry ma' i say dutifully, the standard mantra for the corrected student.And she explodes like fireworks on July 4.'You're sorry? Did you just say you're sorry? Did you come to my class this morning? Did you listen to anything i said? what did i tell you about 'sorry'. This is exactly what i meant, defusing a situation you could have avoided. Hehn,you wouldn't carry the case notes. What if i had been rushing to a surgery? A second matters to a dying man. And if i had given Johnson here this case notes to carry, he'd have carried it without complaining. wouldn't you Johnson.' 'Yes ma' says Dr johnson without blinking an eyelid. which brought out the hard part, how could you apologise to someone who doesn't want an apology. There was a stretch of silence before she gave her verdict.'You're going to write me a letter detailing all the medical emergencies that could happen in one minute.And i still ended up carrying her case notes but not before i heard Dr Johnson whisper.'Women!' 'Coward' i thought.
This was what brought me thinking about women and then i started to notice things, subtle or otherwise. I remember my vice principal who was obese and self conscious, she'd beat any girl who dared to smile in her presence. i notice the attitude of the female doctors to other females, the fashion blind woman who keeps commenting about half-dressed females yet watch them enviously. And i see the banker so full of herself, talking rudely to you while handling your money! Not to forget my immediate nemesis,the typical female lecturer who spends an hour making disparaging comments about the time we have on our hands to fix nails, fix hair and make up. Though, it'll be hard to admit that i am not judging anyone but i do not deny the presence of actually nice women who have no problem with doing their jobs with a smile on their faces. We all know women adapted the 'firm' demeanor in the attempt to be taken seriously in the workplace and I know how hard it is to rise up the corporate ladder but some women takes 'firm' to a new other dimension. Being ambitious does not gift to you paralysis of your rissorius muscle, smile for God's sake! Quit being touchy and try to enjoy sharing from your wealth of knowledge.In the process of rising, we shouldn't forget our very essence that makes us females. we should stop hating on ourselves, do our jobs for Pete's sake and get over the insecurity already! We don't need the public suffering bad services and have it excused on estrogen, mood swings or lactation.