Miracle Adebayo's blog: MAN IN THE MIRROR

Miracle Adebayo's blog: MAN IN THE MIRROR: (Hello. My name is Henrietta from MASCOT NETWORK and I will be interviewing DR. Christine Ajayi. She is a renowned psychologist, well k...

MAN IN THE MIRROR

(Hello. My name is Henrietta from MASCOT NETWORK and I will be interviewing DR. Christine Ajayi. She is a renowned psychologist, well known for her unconventional methods in curing mentally disabled people. Well, we will be needing her expertise in our country today and we’ve decided to ask her over for a short talk, to pick her brains.)

Henrietta:  Hello, Doctor. It’s a pleasure speaking with you today.

DR. C. Ajayi: Thank you darling. It’s my pleasure to be here too.

Henrietta: So, tell us a little bit of yourself.

DR. C. Ajayi: You just said the only thing about me that really matters. There isn’t much to tell.

Henrietta: Well, you’re quite the modest person. I’m pretty sure there’s a lot to you than meets the eye. We know you’re extremely smart and is responsible for the improvement of the mental health of over a hundred patients. That’s quite the achievement.

DR. C. Ajayi: (laughs) Yes it is. It’s been a…well…exhilarating experience. Working with mental patients is a big challenge.

Henrietta: So, tell me what brings you to Nigeria.

DR. C. Ajayi: Well, I’m a Nigerian looking for a cure. This is my country, even though I’ve been away for a while. I’ve been told that there’s a certain ailment that has eaten up this country and my help is needed in purging the country of it.

Henrietta: An ailment? Interesting. So, you have sick people in Nigeria you’re here to help?

DR. C. Ajayi: (exhales) Well, technically...yes. But Nigeria itself is sick.

Henrietta:  I’m a Nigerian and I find that statement, well…a bit disturbing.

DR. C. Ajayi: I’m sorry but it’s the truth. I’ve been here all of six weeks and I’m very certain that this country and its residents are sick.

Henrietta: Including our President?

DR. C. Ajayi: And his cabinet. All sick.

Henrietta: (frowns) You do know what you’re saying Doctor? We have some people in this country that might not take lightly that statement.

DR. C. Ajayi: (scoffs) Lemme guess, the infamous Boko Haram?

Henrietta: You know about Boko Haram?

DR. C. Ajayi: Who doesn’t? They are people birthed by our country, by our leaders.

Henrietta: Please elaborate.

DR. C. Ajayi: This country is a very beautiful one, I must admit. With a set of misguided leaders.

                   The ailment that worries Nigeria is none other than that of corruption.  Corruption is birthed out of selfishness and greed. Everyone wants everything for himself and his family. No one cares about the next person who might need that thing more.

                You see; if our leaders thought first about the people they’re leading…there wouldn’t be much problem in your country. But they’re too busy stuffing themselves with the national cake that they forget that there are people they swore to protect.

                Before it used to be the elites exploiting the masses but now the cancer has spread…the masses exploit each other!

                Every day you walk on the streets and see one injustice or the other being done because one party happens to be better off than the other. Doesn’t it bother you that your justice system is way off balance?

   Court proceedings take years to come to an end. The long procedure doesn’t mean justice in the end. No. It just means more money spent.

                Even the little child on the street knows what a bribe is. Why? Because he watches his daddy slip the cop on the road a fifty naira note to get a pass. Why would you exploit the people you’re supposed to protect? The question is why not? While the members of the House of Assembly in Nigeria earn more than Barack Obama…the police man on the street, who swore to protect the people is earning peanuts.

   Tell me, why wouldn’t he depend on those fifty naira notes? Isn’t there something wrong with the system? With the country?

                Let’s talk about the educational system…I heard the university lecturers are on strike. Students are at home. Tell me why crime rate will not increase?

                The government is doing nothing about it. Instead they spend days sitting in a locked room with the lecturers arguing ceaselessly about money they have but have refused to release. How selfish can you get?

                They’re playing a cat and mouse game with the students’ lives. They can’t graduate and they can’t work…so they’re left with crime or idleness.  What are we not saying?

                Or do I talk about the increasing unemployment rate? One word- nepotism. The so-called  big men are too busy giving their unqualified relatives jobs while other qualified people are left to hang.

    Nigeria is not about who you are and what you know…it’s now about who you know and what you are. It’s a dysfunctional system through and through. It’s disgusting!

        Another election year will soon arrive and the candidates will soon start kissing the ass of the masses just so they can get elected.

                It’s a cycle that continues year after year. What happened to love for our country? Patriotism?

Henrietta: (exhales) That was quite the speech doctor. I had no idea you had it in you. And I will not deny that you’re right…but we’ve heard so much about the problems, what are the solutions? How do we cure our country?

DR. C. Ajayi: One way. Start with the man in the mirror.

Henrietta: Tell me more.

DR. C. Ajayi: The change starts with you and I. Just like the problem began with one person, the solution begins with one person who decides to make a choice not to go with the crowd. One person who stands up for what is right, no matter what happens.

                If the masses will stick together without antagonising each other…then there’s still hope for this country. If we stop being selfish and put other’s feelings first…then there’s still hope.

 If we decide not to support corruption, then there’s hope. Start somewhere. Your family, at work…stand for the right thing.

Henrietta: Wow. That easy?

DR. C. Ajayi: It’s not that difficult. It’s gonna take a lot of discipline to stand for the right thing. And it starts with the small things.

 That security man you slip five hundred naira to get you into the company, that lecturer you give money to sort your admission, those little lies you tell on your CV to get a job…that’s where the change begins.

Henrietta: Pardon me ma’am but that won’t work in Nigeria. These things happen. They’re part of life. You’ll just end up on the side lines if you choose not to do these things.

DR. C. Ajayi: (smiles sadly.) And that’s the mentality that is killing us.

Henrietta: This was a very informative interview Doctor. We appreciate your insight and views.

DR. C. Ajayi: Don’t say all that crap…I know this is just another sermon which would enter the ears of Nigerians and exit through the other ear. Everyone complains about the problem but nobody is ready to change.

     Henrietta is your name? Take a step. Start with yourself. Start doing things right…and maybe there’s still hope for this country. The problem isn’t just your leaders…the problem is you.

I better take my leave now before I’m kicked off the set. It was nice talking with you. I hope I made a difference in your life today.

Henrietta: (smiles) Believe it or not Doc, you did. Thank you.

EVERY TWO A.M.

                It happens every two a.m.

He knew that because once he’d tried to avoid it and had stayed up all night watching, waiting, avoiding the inevitable which he knew was to come.

     He hadn’t succeeded. He’d dozed off by one a.m. The hotness had come minutes later.

He could tell because he’d felt it. Somewhere in his subconscious he’d known when it had happened.

       And so it did. Every night. For twenty-six years he’d kept his awful secret. He told no one. How could he? It was too shameful to repeat to anyone.

               

                However, he’d gotten a certain courage two days ago. A courage that was birthed from the incidental meeting earlier that afternoon.

      It was her. She triggered the sudden change…the sudden impulse to solve his problem.

He hadn’t met a girl he was so taken by in all his twenty six years. At least no girl intrigued him enough to make him break his code of silence and reveal his secret…to make him ask another for help.

         As he made his way to the church auditorium, he felt the sweat trickling down his armpits. He was nervous. What would this man of God say? Would he laugh at his predicament first of all?

                The thought of anyone laughing at him almost made Biodun change his mind. He couldn’t take such humiliation. He wouldn’t take that from anybody.

       It wasn’t his fault he was this way. He’d taken all measures to stop it…this terrible two a.m. habit.

    No such luck.

“Welcome to God’s house brother.” A voice greeted

   He looked around. A man was standing in the shadows.

    “I’m Pastor Nnaji. You’ve come to the right place. God can solve any problem.”

 Not mine. Biodun wanted to say.

  Instead he grunted in reply.

 “Tell me your problem and I will pray for you.”

   Biodun told him without pausing.

      “Hmmmmmm. This is serious.” Pastor Nnaji shifted on his heel. “But don’t worry; nothing is too hard for God.”

   “So you can help me?” Biodun felt a flicker of hope.

    “God can help you. Come let me pray foryou. Kneel down there.”

                Andso the prayers started. Rigorous, energy-exerting prayers. Biodun kept nodding and saying Amen.

 At long last the prayer session was over and the pastor looked hard at him:

     “It’s your grandmother.” He said.

     No Pastor. It’s my bladder. He wanted to retort.

“She doesn’t want you to shine. She’s using it to tie you down. My brother...this is a serious condition.” The Pastor explained.

  “Yes sir.I know.”

       “God will heal you.” He clapped dramatically. “When last did you visit your village?”

    “Er…two months ago sir.”

       “Did you drink any water there?”

       No, I drank urine. Biodun wanted to say.

       “Yes sir.” He replied.

          “That is it.  Strange waters. Your grandmother in the village did something to you…but don’t worry. God is able. Come back again in three days…I will consult the Lord on your behalf. We have to consecrate you.”

      “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

        “And come with an offering. The Lord has need of it.” He added slyly.

    Biodun nodded and walked out, dusting his feet and smiling to himself.

                He’d just been lied to. His visit to the village two months ago had been for his grandmother’s burial. How could a dead woman inflict a condition on him that has existed since he was a child?

           It was a mistake to come here. He knew.

    He wouldn’t make such a mistake again. He would live with his woes and pray that someday God might have mercy on him and he would wake up in the morning without having wetted his  bed at night.

                 Maybe God will miraculously take away his night visitor. Maybe he would sleep one day with an uneventful two a.m.

       Maybe…just maybe, he would meet the girl of his dreams at whose presence he would cease bed wetting.

                He could only hope.

ISABELLE'S MEMOIRS

      Hey there. I’m Isabelle and if you’re reading this, then you’re invading my privacy. I think there’s a law against that?....Er…trespassing or something. Can’t remember. I’ve always had a faulty memory, sometimes I think I might be coming down with Alzheimer. (Just kidding.)

    Well, as you’ve guessed...I wasn’t christened with the name Isabelle. My original name is something so long and unpronounceable, I decided to spice it up.

Now, down to business. So, I’m not married yet, but I intend to be…at some point at least. I’m good looking, I think. I mean, everybody likes to believe that there’s something good to look at in/on/about…whatever(take your pick) them.

        So pal, you might not have those celebrity-like looks, but hey…don’t put yourself down. There’s gotta be something good looking about you.

Enough about beauty and good looks. Did I mention I’m way past thirty?  If you’re Nigerian, you’d know that I’m overdue for marriage.

   Well, that’s what they think and I absolutely disagree with them.  I mean, what’s the big deal? Is a woman defined by her marital status?

     Do I have to be married to have a place in society? Do I have to be married before I’m looked at and respected?

                It’s quite annoying I must say when people look at me and expect me to be married and when I tell them I’m not…they look at me like a weirdo. I mean, seriously?

        Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not against marriage and I do know that someday I will settle down with someone worth it, not out of desperation but because I’m ready, because I’ve acquired enough knowledge about marriage to actually keep a man.

      If everyone thought like me, the divorce rate in the world would be lesser.

   I wish everyone agrees with my view, though. I’ve had squabbles with my parents and relatives about my…er…condition (I’m not sick, hello!)

        Only last week a relative whom I had no idea existed called me. Right out of nowhere. He identified himself as my paternal uncles’ cousin. Like seriously, is this guy for real?

     The conversation that ensued after introductions went something like this:

HIM: Chi, so how your side?

ME: Fine Uncle. How’s the family?

HIM:  Very fine. You know, Nonye my daughter got married last week? We didn’t see you at the wedding.

 That’s because I had no idea Nonye existed, I wanted to say.

ME: Em…yes sir. I wasn’t available.

HIM: Which reminds me, Chi…when is your own coming up? When will that young man bring wine to us on your behalf?

ME: (Laughs) Soon sir.

HIM: Are you sure? Or you want us to consult our local seer for you?

ME: Uncle, that’s not necessary. Everything is under control.

HIM: Hmmmmm…You know age is not on your side. We want grandchildren.

ME: Yes sir. I will take that under advisement.

HIM: What?...advise what?...It is not an advise ooh…

I kinda blocked out the rest of his tirade. By the end of the call, I was royally pissed.

      I knew that was the handwork of my mother. I know this  because she’s spent the last five years pleading, nagging, imploring and even threatening me to find a man for myself.

       How do I tell her that many men have come my way but I have not found them worthy of me? Is that pride?

     I don’t think so. I just know who I am and I won’t sell myself short. I don’t need some man with big words, flattery and money. I deserve better than that.

      My Pastor always says that the first step in any relationship or marriage is giving up your “I”.

 Well, that is anothertori for another day.

       But basically, he’s saying…if you’re not ready to submit your ‘rights’ completely to your partner then you aren’t ready for marriage.

        Well, I haven’t met the man I’d be willing to give myself to completely.

     Selflessness is the key to a stable, steady, long lasting and happy marriage.

         Me, I’m too selfish to care for another that much, so I guess it’s bye-bye men until I meet that man.

                             That’s all for today folks. We’ll catch up later.

                 I remain Isabelle; single, and happy. Ciao!

ME AND YOU.

I remember how you accepted me even when the others rejected me. I remember how you stood up for me when I couldn’t do so for myself.

 Your boldness and confidence inspired me.

 Your soft yet powerful personality drew me in. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with you as a friend.

   You were closest to me in the clique, even when Vinda was being her usual nasty self…you made me know that I was important.

   You understood me and only you knew my health condition. I could tell no one else for fear of stigmatization. But you…you held my hand through one crisis or the other and even covered up for me with the rest of the clique.

  You knew my fear of crowd and people but you stuck by me. You knew even my deepest and darkest secrets and didn’t despise me.

    I remember once, in the second year of our friendship, how you went out of your way to set up a meeting between me and Ayo- the guy I was crushing on then.

   On any visiting day that no one came to see me, you took me with you to hang out with your family and made me feel wanted.

    You were indeed ‘the friend’. Yes, we were four in our clique but you were the only one I was ‘myself’ with.

Vinda didn’t impress me with her high-handedness and sharp-mouth; neither did Oyin with her pretence and hypocritical nature nor Clara with her beauty and flashiness.

  They are so busy trying to be someone else, they forget to be themselves. You, on the other hand are down-to earth even with parents as rich as yours.

I thought we were friends…but perhaps I thought wrong since you never told me that one thing about you that mattered a lot.

   Finding out that way was never what I expected.

 Finding out that you are adopted wasn’t something I was prepared for. I remember lamenting to you about how I couldn’t remember my parents because they had died when I was so young…why didn’t you tell me then?

   Why didn’t you let me comfort you the way you comforted me when I needed it?

   I envied you. Yes, I envied your loving home and wealthy parents…always wishing to have a home like yours.

I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me that you didn’t have all the privileges. Selfish of me, right? I guess I just wanted to know you weren’t so perfect after all.

You probably know that Vinda ex-communicated you from the clique. After the fight you had with her and the bomb-shell she dropped about you, I don’t even know what to think.

She’s going around school, saying lots of things about you…things I cannot refute because I don’t even know if I know you well enough. The rest of the clique however seem to be helping her tarnish your reputation more. They call it loyalty. I call it betrayal, yet I remain silent.

I miss you. I want to ask you so many questions, but Vinda has vowed to do the same to me that she’s doing to you if she ever sees me speak to you.

I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid of her. I don’t need such stress in my life, you know.

I just want you to know how hard it is for me to see you and look the other way. I saw you at the tap yesterday and I so much wanted to hug you and talk with you like old times…but I saw Clara coming behind me and I had to look away. I’m ashamed of myself for doing that, because when I think of it; you were more of a friend than they would ever be.

 I wonder what they would do if they find out that I am a sickler. Who would I turn to when I have another crisis?

Simi, I miss you so much. I don’t care if you’re adopted or not, it doesn’t change who you are. I just wish you had told me…maybe I’d have stood by you when Vinda was kicking you out.

I know that doesn’t justify abandoning you the way I did; and maybe you’re right…it’s high time I stand up for myself and what I believe instead of being constantly in the shadow of Vinda, Oyin and Clara.

I’m different. I don’t think or act like them.

You and I are one of a kind.

 It should be us against them.

Good versus evil. Ha.

I’ll do right by you, Simi. I promise.