THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL- 1

            

Picking up my purse as I made my way out I met my mum at the doorway, with the grin she gave me I could figure out that something was wrong. All these relatives that keep barging into our house and middling into our affairs giving my mum all sort of reasons to worry will not let us rest. “Where to” she asked “I see your own duty is to be going for weddings every weekend even if it’s a Monday you will go. You better hurry and get married before all your friends children start calling you aunty abi you think you are still a kid”. Mummy!!! I screamed haha why today again, I hurriedly left and zoomed off within split seconds.

When mum comes up with such drama I always find the best reason to leave the house and this time I was not ready to ruin my fun at my friends’ wedding as it was a grand one and a mini reunion. I partied myself away and when the event was almost over the MC called all the single ladies out to catch the bouquet. I stayed back but after lots of pressure I joined the train and caught yet another one. Deep down I was angry, yet again why can’t I just meet the man other than catching bouquets.

“Welcome o! you have brought another bouquet, you want to turn my house to a florist shop or start donating them?” Well, I was not expecting anything less I imagined she was yet to get over the dramatic conversation that ensued between her and my aunty earlier this afternoon. I have a good job, at least if it’s not paying a million box, I am comfortable having fun doing what I love to do and also coming from an averagely rich family who will stop at nothing to see me smile which unfortunately gets spoilt with times like this from my mother.

I remember I had my first boyfriend while in secondary school. Many of my mates had boyfriends as students but when I saw a big catch I grabbed it wanting to feel like a ‘big girl’ that I was. There was no intimacy and it made the relationship complicated for a few years with me always having to beg him to be patient if he really took me serious. Fast forward to a few more years while in higher institution I fell in love and was happy it was worth it. Our friends and family knew us as a pair till one incident changed everything. He broke the news of impregnating a random girl out of 5-minutes pleasure. My whole life changed, it almost crumbled, I was heartbroken, betrayed, weak and almost gave up on love because he was indeed my first true love. It got more complicated as he just relocated barely a year before this incident happened. I forgave him but we drifted apart slowly and gradually even with his footprints of love still mapped on the footpaths of my heart.

I am pretty, loving, calm, I have so much fun and energy. Infact despite praises of compliments from people occasionally shown on me I know I am physically and sexually attractive; but I keep asking myself this question difficult enough to answer- “Ini’ what then is the problem”? I began the journey of self discovery even though I did not completely open up to love as everything all felt complicated at different point. As an African girl, I know the risk involved when people especially your family see you with different guys at close intervals. I trust my mother, mama Inioluwa will ask me “madam, this one you are changing boyfriends every time are they clothes that you keep in your wardrobe”. Oh no! I was trying everything possible to avoid a relationship issue clash with my mum. It didn’t make me feel any better but I knew there was every reason not to give up.....

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