I look at the world and I can’t but resist the tears in my eyes. At 22, I have been through all of the emotions anyone can ever describe. As I write, my mum is out of a job, my dad is planning an end of year party and my other siblings are as short of cash as they have ever been. You’d notice the irony of the last sentence but it’s the truth. Come the second week of December, my dad will be hosting royalty to what he calls a “thanksgiving party”. The ritual holds every year and I have learnt to see the celebrations as his way of just showing-off. The world is full of people who do things because of what others would say or do in response. We organize parties and invite folks we truly don’t give two f?3ks about, but we invite them anyway just to put our middle finger in the air albeit subtly. That is my dad’s style. He invites foes and friends alike to show them that he still has the cash to throw around. Truth is, he has lost it. He is not as rich and as influential as he used to be, but the sad part of it is that he does not know it or has simply refused to accept it. Dad would rather prove a stupid point by throwing a party than pay for my siblings’ school fees. He is not alone, I have been in the world long enough, been with other families long enough to know that most people do not get their priorities right.
I have learnt not to judge anyone. I have learnt to appreciate my friends more. The world is full of too many pains but it’s got even more joys too. I have simply decided to dwell on those people and those things that give me joy and happiness. I have not spoke with my dad in six months – what do we get to talk about anyway? I am working against the odds, positioning myself for a great future. My mum deserves more than she is getting and I am going to give her that. I am one of the most beautiful beaus you’d ever meet but I am also wasting away – sort of – because I am in no relationship at the moment. I don’t want to be in one until I find my footing financially. That means pretty soon if I look at the job offers before me. I have offers from three continents of the world and it’s just amazing. This is not enough to make me feel relieved though. I still wonder why things can not just be better with families. I have since discovered that most of the world’s problems are caused by dysfunctional families. I am coming out of mine a bit better-off than one of my old friends Jennie, who spends most of her waking hours with men older than her dad. She has been looking to fill the daddy void within her but she has gone about it the wrong way. I love Jennie still because she knows she’s got a problem and she’s doing well at winning.
Ours is a beautiful crazy world. Beautiful because it has all we want and need but crazy because we have learnt to deprive ourselves of those things. Everywhere I look, I see pains and tears. I live in a highbrow area of Africa and despite the fact that those who live in not so prestigious places think my neighbours are so privileged, they are far from the truth. I visit the ghettos a lot of times and I know the rich and the poor are united in terms of family issues. It is not just about the men, it is about the unit. My heart burns because I know we can have a better deal. I know we have all we need to make the world a better place. We have too many people who are lonely, yet see other lonely folks and think those ones are having it good. When two lonely people come together, they cease to be lonely. They solve a common problem but are they looking beyond themselves to see that?
Most of the time, the things that bother us the most are the things that are right under our nose. I can not keep looking for love where I won’t find it, when I can create love by my self. I have been learning a lot recently and I have since concluded that our world is what we make it.
I am yet to have sex with any man but it will be impossible for my friends to believe that. Why would I put myself under the undue pressure of getting them to know so they can feel alienated from me then in turn put me under pressure to get my p$#sy whacked by some bob-headed boy. That is what I mean by our world is what we make of it.
Nothing would give me more joy than to see the world united in its quest to become a better place for the worst victims in any crises – the children of the world. It takes one of us to make one person’s life better. Imagine what the world would be like if every father turns out to be like you or if every mother turns out to be like you. If deep within you your imagination is not desirable, it is never too late to be a better person. Broken hearts are acts of men and you don’t become a hero by hurting more hearts. One day, I’ll visit my dad with the keys of the latest Phantom-Ghost in tow. It will be a gift for him, for taking the time that night or morning to make the love that brought me to the world. That really is enough for me to forgive all the wrongs he has done but to forget would have to happen naturally.
I am grateful for the listening ears of a friend that’s fast recreating my world. I love his eyes but I love his heart even more and what else can I say about his mind. I am feeling the written and the spoken words of Japh at the moment. Having his phone number has been the cherry on my cake. Nigeria sure offers more than the world admits. This gem proves that.
Australia beckons, I have to say bye. I’ll b writing more for omojuwa and I’d love your thoughts too. Follow my articles @omojuwa