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Merry Christmas, people!

Pretty sure as you read this, I’ll be in my village somewhere in Delta State, eating pounded yam with Banga soup while spending what may or may not be my last Nigerian Christmas in a while with my large, ever intrusive, close-knit, extended maternal family (I love it even though I complain but ssssshhhhh).

Last year ended with so much hope, I didn’t know it was possible to have the ability to hope for more. Yet, here I am. Sadly, this year started with health issues that began in 2016. Couldn’t go to work, I was tired of being sick, I was depressed, I lost my faith, I lost my inner joy, hated friends for not bothering enough to visit, made foolish decisions and I just wanted to die. It was like the devil was mocking me for putting up such an uppity post at the end of 2016 that he wanted to teach me a lesson.

I remember leaving my body one night; it was for no more than 5 seconds but it was SCARY as hell. In the middle of being sick, I saw a vision of my aunt who died the year before asking me to follow her, telling me a sick body was no body to be in. I followed, got scared, thought of my mother and flew back into my body. My brothers and sisters in the Lord, I ran to church the next day o! When devil wan show himself, you give am better blocking! #Gbam!! But the most useless part of being sick is having NO DIAGNOSIS. Like, hellooooo!!! Can y’all name a disease so I can focus on what can cure it please? I did a lot of hospital hopping, took injections, pills, had scans upon scans, x-rays, swallowed different forms of agbo, took off my clothes for too many men (they’re doctors I know but why me?) in the name of medical examinations (weeps).

See ehn, at some point, I simply decided to screw it and carry the sickness like a handbag. Since you won’t go, you won’t keep me from my plans. I planned to quit my job this year and I did it (tongue out to you bloody health disrupting vermin!). That office was depressing me more than the hospital hopping I was doing. I planned to relocate this year and I did that too (I’m still around sha because of sentiments but bags packed). I buried one grandma this year (still hurts. She was old I know but I miss her) and now I have just one grandma left. Saw my father after a year and a half of my running away from domestic violence, it was awkward but all my anger is gone. I have only pity left now, even the love is gone (sad, to be honest). Health got worse, then better, now it chooses “off days” and “on days” (bloody ingrate). Stopped hospital prostituting because doctors looked like they didn’t know what was wrong and were just guessing. So I’ve gone unorthodox now and I’m wearing bandages around like a handicap cretin because even my legs are betraying me but God pass una.

Watched all my single close friends marry this year. ALL. Male and female. Back-stabbing beeches found love and left me! Chooking me inside bridal trains like say na career. Just imagine the disrespect! Some even gave birth. Like how much betrayal can a woman take?! (I love my new babies and I’m sad I won’t be around to be a proper nuisance aunt but let’s not digress please). Well, I’ve found new single friends so who’s laughing now?! I learned some sewing and make-up just for the heck of it and I love it.

Also watched my whole family attempt to give me away this year like free gift coupon by inviting male visitors for lunch and forcing me into conversations or berating me for not dating any of my friends who made the mistake of visiting. Even family morning prayer sessions weren’t excluded (rolls eyes).

I am quite happy I will get a break soon because it is apparent they have considered dashing me out as if 28 years is an abominable age to be a singu pringu.

Then, with a sense of humour that goes forever unmatched, God decides to punish me. First of all, he brought man. How do you bring me man when we agreed I was moving nawww Baba God? Long distance? Bet why?? As if that was not enough, the man happened to be someone I had told confidently “not you of all people, am I mad?” (Still read that message occasionally and shake my head). Like, he was EVERYTHING I was supposed to avoid if I had any sense. I’ve swallowed my words so much now that I’ve started dieting to lose weight (no pun intended o, I’m really dieting). I’ve watched myself become this vulnerable, sappy, mushy, disgusting piece of cotton wool. Just soaking up the love like a hungry cat; purring and lapping it up. I’m actually disgusted at myself. I don’t know what name to put to my feelings but I know they’re strong (I go hard or I don’t go at all). I don’t know where it is going but I’m happy and that’s paramount. As all relationships go, we have issues I pray we have the strength to deal with. It hasn’t been an easy year for him. I’m scared (mad scared) and fearless all at once and it feels so good (my hard babe street cred is finished, sometimes I type that smelly phrase on WhatsApp and I delete it before he sees because madness should be private).

I’m going to miss this man. Going to miss the hugs (the huggggggsssss!), the soft caresses on bad and good health days, the goofy smiles, holding hands, cuddles, kisses, comfortable silences…(very long sigh). I’m going to miss my mom, my brother, my cousins, this home, my family, my friends, familiar smells, places, people…my comfort zone.

Here’s to a new year, a new continent, to love, to growth, to new hurdles, more successes, new friends, new lessons, to hope and so much more!

 

 

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