When people think of one-sided love, they often consider it from the perspective of the person giving unrequited love. They think of a person who loves another so deeply, but doesn’t receive this. This person is often thought of as the victim and the other as the villain. I, too, used to have such thoughts, until…
The numbness I began to feel towards the other person, the times I knew I should reach out but didn’t, the times I left messages unread and unanswered, and the times I let trivial arguments become big deals that could no longer be hidden under carpets without bulging out. I only know of my wrongs, my contribution to the lifelessness that is now the bulk of my friendships.
I stood there staring hard at my mum while she eagerly awaited my disappearance. If anyone had walked in on us at that moment, they probably would have turned back in a breath. We looked like two angry bulls about to lock horns till the death. I needed her to understand my stance. After two minutes of intense stares and extreme silence, save the running water, I mustered some pseudo courage to continue my speech.
I’m aware of the possibility of this ending, of we growing tired of us, of your piercing eyes no longer wanting to penetrate the barricades guarding my soul or of them penetrating, but no longer having that effect of making me feel wanted, like they normally do. I’m aware of the possibility of my exuberant laughter during our conversations, and everything I feel when I tell you I love you, fading as time passes, and vice versa too.
The thing with Lagos is everyone is trying to make it big here. But big is very relative. Big could be a few hundred thousand Naira, or single digits with six zeros, or double digits with six or nine zeros. Like I said, it is very relative. Do not be deceived by the ‘packaging.’ There are people who, when going for meetings, take buses for a quarter of the trip, and call Uber to complete it, so they can appear posh and well fed.
The first time I complained to my friend that the lecturer was reading verbatim from the textbook, the same textbook available to me, he laughed. Mockingly, he said, “Good morning ma’am, how would you like your coffee?’ But it wasn’t me he was mocking; he was mocking the educational system he had gotten used to.
Violence isn’t just inflicting physical pain. It’s a word that also depicts psychological assault. Violence against the male folk is largely unrecognised because of the conjecture that men are stronger and superior being,s and should stand, suffer and swallow every ounce of abuse against them unflinchingly for the sake of their masculinity.
Perhaps the most significant difference between our fantastical living and the fiction of Game of Thrones is in the gathering of powerful people under the banner of good and evil. In GOT, the nature of characters that used to be murkier earlier in the series, has become clear in the face of impending doom. So how does this compare with Nigeria?