Hi dear blog readers, this is a piece from me, your girl- Opeyemi Dorcas. It will come in episodes maybe weekly or biweekly depending on inspiration and time. Stayed tuned, enjoy and share with someone. Cheers!
9th March 2018
My name is Wuraola, I am writing this part of my story from the private suite of the hospital when ideally I should probably be in a private place with my sweetheart having a swell honeymoon. I have been here for days now. I am not sure how long I will be here; it all depends on how fast I hatch a great and effective plan. But for now, let me feed you in on what brings a bride to the hospital straight from the church.
They all think I am mad but I am totally sane. When no one is around, I bring out my jotter and start to write; once I hear footsteps I hide the jotter and stare into space- smiling. They are wondering what is wrong with me- by “they” I mean my husband- the emergency husband, my family members and the hospital staff. They all come in, meet me smiling and are clueless as to what to say. I listen to them but never respond, they do not know I am pretending. I have a game plan- I need to escape.
I was born on the 9th of February 1980, I was told it rained so much on the day I was born which is strange considering the Nigerian weather. My Parents were lecturers at the University of Ibadan. I have two siblings, Sade- a very sweet lady ahead of me. I used to tell her she was only too forward, that I should have been the first. She would smile and say “I am sorry ma, next time I would not be too forward”. I would attempt to pat her head and she would slap off my hand “Silly girl, you would have been a very bad firstborn” and I would wince at the pain. Strangely enough, we still continued that cliche joke till adulthood. My younger brother, Fola is rather too handsome. I sometimes tell him to marry me because he was just too good looking, “If I could help your destiny, I would have but sorry…” I used to tap his head to stop him from finishing that statement almost all the time. “What exactly are you feeling like?”
“I am feeling like the most handsome man in the universe”
“Oh well” I would reply rolling my eyes.
They are both now married with two children each. I however remained unmarried up until now. Let me get this straight, I cannot say I have been celibate since childhood, I have had and still have a love life. I just never got “lucky” for the relationship to head to the altar before it comes crashing like a pack of cards unlike that of my siblings. But what is a young lady supposed to do? Drag one of the men by the tie down the aisle? Oh no! That would be outrightly ridiculous. Or don’t you think so?
Right after secondary school, I gained admission to the University of Lagos. It was a huge break for me from my parents because I had schooled and lived in Ibadan all my life except for vacations outside the state or country. I desperately wanted my university education to be in another state or even country. My parents obliged to my wish for another state within Nigeria but outside the country? No, they would have none of that, at least for the first degree of my siblings and me. They pulled their strings and got me into the University of Lagos, I scored very well in my entry examinations so it made it easy.
That was how I found myself at the University of Lagos and it was the beginning of my “freedom” and life of adventure. I had one boyfriend per year during my five year course. Quite adventurous isn’t it?
First it was Tunji, he was two years ahead but in the same department. That fateful day, he met a beautiful innocent first year student looking very confused as to how to do her registration, he offered to help and friendship bloomed from there. He was a good guy, very caring but he felt I was too independent for a lady. He expected me to ask for gifts and money for my hair, nails, clothes, foot wears and so on like a lot of first year girls would do but I was not interested in his “money”. First I was from a very comfortable family; so I was never broke. I also believed he should use his money for himself since he was a student and was given pocket money just like myself. By the time the school year was ending, we drifted apart naturally because we were having too many fights on such a trivial issue. The end of the session was the break I needed. I went home, cut off from him and returned to school as a single 18 year old lady in her second year. We sometimes saw along the corridor, we would exchange very short awkward greetings and that was all. My second year took another dimension….