CIMDHOG

  Most of my early childhood has  been and is still  a blur to me I don't remember a lot of it. However, one memory had stuck  to  me throughout these years.

You see, when I was a little younger I used to pride myself in the fact that I don't lie...yep as a kid, I was not much of a liar...lool...I laugh at my own stupidity and naive nature.

1.   I'm a 26yr old girl...woman, let's stick with "woman", according to the age but age is just a number...also but, numbers don't lie...sigh, I'm getting old.

She glanced at the table clock positioned at the table beside the bed. She laid there for another  ten  minutes, reciting words of motivation that would help her get through the day. She tossed and turned on the cotton blue sheets one last time before reluctantly sitting up, sweeping away the bed covers from her plum body structure and proceeding to walk off the bed.

I recently turned a year older and I celebrated in a grand style as birthdays should be celebrated…lying in a fetal position, tucked firmly in between my sheets contemplating about my life and life in general.

Today had been a very stressful day. I was pissed, hungry and tired all at once. As  I made my way through the busy Lagos road with the merciless and scorching heat that only help fuel my already over the top emotions, I had an encounter which i have to confess was the highlight of my day.  A female passerby coming towards me and going the opposite direction with male counterpart, looked me straight in the eye and said to me frankly without breaking her step,"I like your stature" and then continued on her way. For that split second I was confused on how to react, after all this is Lagos, but I managed to give her a smile and a half hearted "thank you", and for the rest of the day, I was not the same again. ...but as an over thinker and over-analyzer, which I am proudly...thank you,thank you hold the applauds...(no, continue ...keep them coming) it was all I could think of for the rest of the day. I thought about it from different views and perspective, ...

So at the ripe age of 26, I was forced… lool not forced parse but nudged, to get my own personal apartment I.e to live on my own. I had always envisioned this moment to be a rite of passage, like my family would one day gather around in wrappers with lit candles and drums for the official moving out ceremony, but to my disappointment, it was nothing like that. Although to be fair, I was partially living on my own as I lived apart from my family with other people, so I guess I didn’t qualify for the ceremony.