I do not come to you by chance

I just finished this novel called I do not come to you by chance by a Nigerian Author Tricia Nwaubani. While I would not say that shes broken any literary records it was a very good story. An apt portrayal of the Nigerian advanced fee fraud industry, because that is what it is. I say she hasnt broken literary records because her style, in my humble view is not very solid. Her story, though, speaks for itself in the sense that the story sucks you in and you almost start to believe that the characters are your next door neighbours and you can see, smell and touch them.

She also does not end the story in that way that most of these stories end where everyone lives happily ever after. The ending is actually quite realistic appreciating that life gives you a bunch of lemons and you have to make lemonade.

Now its a common fact that we bloggers are aspiring writers/authors/novelists/call us what you want and I am no exception. If only a good plot would come to me, and I would find the time to put pen to paper, or rather fingertip to keyboard of my rather ancient 2005-model toshiba laptop with the quote mark key not working. I am inspired by Nigerian female writers such as Chimamanda Adichie and Tricia Nwaubani for actually believing in themselves and trusting their abilities and not restricting themselves. Their books can be found chest to chest with international bestseling authors in foreign countries.

Alas, I have to keep dreaming that one day I will actually be a writer like carrie Bradshaw, especially Carrie Bradshaw although I wont be writing anything remotely about sex. No, even I am not that liberal(yet). Instead i will pour all my thought into this my personal space, this blog I have been trying to write and sustain for the past two years(with a high fail rate) and I hope that one or two people will find the time to read and enjoy it.

To Have and To Hold

Is it really impossible for the Nigerian woman to have it all in the 21st century or are we still holding on to the ancient notion of a woman’s role in society? The family or the career. The family AND the career. Why do these two options seem to be mutually exclusive, two elusive concurrents. It seems like you can only have either one or the other.. you’re keen to start a family then be prepared to be barefoot pounding yam in the kitchen and making shopping lists all day till death do you part blissfully or otherwise unaware of what’s going on in the world around you. Or you want to be the regional head of a fortune 500 company then prepare to forfeit the aforementioned domestic bliss and come home to your luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets whose thread count you will have enough time to verify.

Are Nigerian men threatened by a woman’s financial independence? The answer seems to be a resounding YES! I have shopped around and the prevailing sentiment appears to be that no man wants to see his wife ‘suffer’. Interpret this as no man wants to let a woman into the ‘old boys club’. They would rather come back home at midnight and tell their loving housewives over a plate of just-made Egusi soup how incredibly volatile the stock market is, how rare it is to find an honest accountant or how frustrating the rising cost of steel is while said woman’s eyes glaze over is admiration. How does this man manage to understand these incredibly complicated issues? Now if said woman was out there in the labour market she would be able to challenge him with her own knowledge or her own take on the facts. She might know an accountant who can knock 50% off because business is slow or that steel prises have risen because of the corresponding rise in the price of oil per barrel- a knock on effect of the war in Iraq.

Shock! Horror! A woman who is actually worldly-wise. This is far too threatening to the status quo. Now don’t get me wrong I am certainly not one of those people who have literally been baptised and cleansed of all ties to my custom in my motherland and born again into Western societal androgyny. Far from it, in fact I strongly believe in the right of every man, woman, boy and girl to a steaming hot plate of home made food prepared by the oldest female member of their nuclear family with ingredients purchased from an open air market by the afore-mentioned female rather than some overworked underpaid, illiterate maid/nanny hybrid plotting with other overworked, underpaid maid/ nannies to elope with the driver.

This is the reason why our fellow homosapiens in the west invented the vacuum cleaner, the microwave and the fridge to name but a few of these now cant-do-without necessities. A woman is entitled to a choice. I respect, nay, admire a woman who has put herself out there and decided that the whole suit and boardroom thing is not for her and chooses to retire into the predictable routine of homemaking, carpooling and daytime television but I am afraid I want more out of life than this.

I want to first and foremost be able to go out and earn a living. For as long as I am able I will go forth and justify the many hours, months, decades spent in the pursuit of academic excellence. I need for a skill which I had to fine-tune by pushing myself endlessly and sweating in anticipation of countless examination results to be acknowledged and rewarded in cash. I was once told by a man that he will triple whatever it is I think I can earn from a J-O-B and pay me to stay at home 24/7 but that is missing the point. I need to be taken care of safe in the knowledge that I can(this is the operative word) take care of myself and that if I want it, that Chanel purse can be mine and I don’t need permission to go out and buy it just as soon as I put the finishing touches to the Isi-Ewu I have on the fire.

whos that girl?

I believe there is a perfect woman for every man and a perfect man for every woman. In other words I believe in soul mates. I don’t think any one person is just bad inside out, when people break up it’s because they were not with their correct match. One man’s meat is a another man’s poison, they always say. This is why some people realise that when they break up with their exes they ironically become good friends- this is evidence that they are not supposed to be in a commitment-driven relationship and they are better off with no strings attached to each other.

I’ve often had to adapt myself to fit into a role which I assume I’m supposed to be playing in any given relationship. I’ve been accused of being a good girl this is because I always want people (who I love) to see the best side of me. Thus, when a friend comes to me with a problem I try to be a shoulder to cry on without losing sight of the fact that s/he needs a solution. I have to be on their side otherwise they would not have come to me in the first place. Similarly , at home I’m often torn between being myself and being the perfect daughter. I scare myself sometimes with the level of detachment that I feel towards the status quo: I’m one of those people that if I didn’t have the parents that I have I’d probably never get married and just have a couple of babies out of wedlock for good measure. I’d probably have written one or two novels hoping to get published and for money, I’d be writing jingles for advertisements.

I don’t really know what men want. It’s all well and good that when he met me he must have liked what he saw otherwise he would not have gone through all that hassle to get my number but then after the first few conversations and especially if I like him I start to wonder whether I’m really his type or whether I should make one or two character adjustments. I don’t know if I’m really laid back or really high strung. I think different people bring out a different side of me. One thing is for sure though, I need respect. As soon as I feel like this is being compromised , that laughing joking me is gone and replaced with a snarling bitch. You don’t mess with me wildcats!

I’m not sure if I really care for any ideology yet I can be very argumentative- I think it’s just my pride and I hate to lose. This is why midway through an impassioned debate about whether Obama or Clinton deserved the republican seat, my brain just goes slack and the argument becomes a quarrel about other issues. Truth be told, I don’t really care for politics it’s society that dictates what topics of conversation are considered worth debating by a young woman my age(current affairs) and which ones are simply frivolous( celebrities and shopping). I have an acute phobia of failure , this is probably why I never put in enough effort into anything so that if I fail at it, I can simply convince myself that I never really wanted to do it in the first place.

I do have a conscience though. But I think I’ve been socialised into having this conscience.I was brought up in a semi puritan household where certain topics were not even brought up. Sexuality is not a topic of conversation in my household and I always feel guilty about it. Often I wonder why I even bother feeling guilty about certain things because the world does not seem to care. Apparently all is fair in love and war- I mean who cares if you’ve stolen someone else’s boyfriend, you’re not going to let love pass you by just because he belongs to someone else temporarily? But what about if some other girl feels like your man is the one for her, who are you going to call now?My mantra is karma comes back around.

I can never keep up with the rules of dating. Left to me I’d call a man that I liked whenever I saw fit and pick up his calls whenever I damn well please but oh no!This is not the way it should be- you’re supposed to make him work hard. As far as I’m concerned this is why we have so many rape cases supposedly by ‘men who we are close to’ because we don’t start early enough to establish these boundaries. Me, my yes means yes and my no means no, if I’ve been saying no for six months I don’t think there’s likely to be a change of mind, and if I say yes the first time you ask; mmhmm I think it means that I like you. All these love games are a waste of my time and I’m not very patient.

I really wish that there could be some sort of indication when you meet the right person. like a trumpet sound or a blaring horn so that you know that you have to go up one gear because if you miss this person, you’re only going to have a series of grave mistakes coming your way.