I think in this life there should be a written decree that
once you and an Ex go separate ways any form of relations should just follow
both of you on your separate ways. That may have been possible eon years ago. Devices
for instant communication would have been limited to a few powerful people like
witches and magical beings. But now we have contraptions like phones and social
media.
Social media is just the worst; the stupid last seen on what’s app, the notification of DP and Pm change on BBM, the DMs on Instagram and twitter and these other mumu functions on Social media.
One time I pretended to have sent out a BC to an Ex just to
be sure he was online and noticing the subs I was sending him via DPs and PMs
The most devilish of all these things is the phone. You will
say you will not call that boy that broke your heart which most of the time is
usually a Yoruba Demon, but before you know it. You will pick your phone like a
zombie and the next thing you will hear on the other end of the line is the voice
of the boy you swore never to talk to.
I know we all do this, girls especially don’t deny it na. The
funniest time is when we use a hidden number, why we do these things is beyond
me.
Well I spoke to an Ex (don’t judge me, he is a very sensible
young man) and he told me the wisest words (I think). This stupid phase of my
life that is even worse than puberty is okay and like all things in this world,
time would fix it. No need to rush the process.
I wish he hadn’t said that. My people I have been cursed with
impatience. It is the virtue I have in abundance. I cannot wait for anything or
anybody, it is something impossible for me to do, but maybe I will try. For
crying out loud I am almost through with learning tolerance, what is in
patience that I can’t learn.
I went to bed a little bit better and my eyes so much drier.
The next day I stepped out of the lodge around 7:30, I had an
8am class. Now if you had seen me you would know I was looking for trouble with
my school.
I was wearing a pair of red pants with a green blazer and a
black tank top. The tank top had a few problems, my cleavage in it is really
huge and it was worse this week because I now look like a nursing mother (I
need help with this stupid problem).
I managed to avoid the eyes that pry and the tongues that wag
from beneath scarfs or hijabs. During break my madam had to see me and I just
have to say she is one of the nicest people I have known in my entire life. She
is so nice and kind. It is safe to say I adore her.
Well she had to see me and she was in a staff room with eyes
that pry and tongues that wag.
I come in decked in trousers first of all, that one was
already a red flag, I had contacts on and my hair looked like something I was
breeding to turn to dreads. As I left that office oh boy! These women talked
and talked. Thank God for tolerance. I had every mind to tell them that girls
that look like me are the reasons their husbands come home late. I am not sure
if they would have understood what I meant but I still didn’t say it.
Before I forget, there is this man in my school who won’t
leave me alone. His name is Mr Farouk; he is bent on calling me his wife, I
have tried to run away from him but I have failed terribly. I swear I am tired
of this, since the first day I entered Queen Elizabeth he has been following me
up and down. October should come and go fast let me pass out.
The love of my life, my guilty pleasure, my one and only, the
only thing that will never fail me was on my table when I got back. No other
thing than food and this food had plenty sugar.
If you haven’t noticed I love food, my size is evidence of
this and if you still haven’t noticed I love sugar. My once flat stomach is a
victim of this. Let’s just say I ate and my smile was wider than river Niger.
The height of the day was when I was in class. SS 1 girls are
currently reading Oliver Goldsmith’s She
Stoops to Conquer, it’s a beautiful play and although I don’t like the B
class we had fun that afternoon and all of a sudden the tears of the previous
night and the sobs of the present morning seemed unnecessary.
You see the thing is that I was still
a bit down about the previous night and as I taught them my spirits lifted.
The light of understanding in every girl’s eye made every
tear I shed a thing of a distant past. I had made a bunch of girls I don’t like
understand the first Act of a play and that is all I cared for.
I walked home with a
spring in my step, I was expecting an alert from popsy after waiting for NYSC
for so long and yes two days in the month was already too long.
I tried to watch a movie but sleep wanted to have some fun
and I let her. When I awoke I saw the awaited message but it was NSYC now
wahala. Shopped for some toiletries and I headed back home.
I really don’t understand me or some of the actions I take. I
am too impulsive; this is a bad thing and that doesn’t mean I am changing that
part of me anytime soon. The rest of the day was quite uneventful until the
rains came to interfere with the conversation I was having with Ify (my crush),
Koch and Jennifer (we all know her; it’s the wicked girl that I will show
pepper). In my room all huddled up in my blanket I dialed a number.
Fucking mistake if you ask me.
Nkem Oyaghire
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