Ummmmm….so yah. I can’t lie. I am over my wedding. I have tried to share the experiences but I am kind of like, no longer interested like that. What I will do, is write about it whenever there is something to share that relates to the topic I am writing on but I am past it. I will do a quick rundown of some stuff and the outfit details and then leave the rest for Jesus or the day I feel like talking about it.
Hm! That is how the other Sunday, I finally understood the TRUE meaning of a mother’s love. I mean the real deal!
So, it appears I am the only new mom in Nigeria that still does not have domestic staff…in fact, let me even tell you about that one self.
While I was pregnant, everyone was so worried about me doing everything by myself and managing the house alone that the pressure to get help finally overwhelmed me and I got my first housekeeper ( I HATE ‘house girl’. I just HATE that term. So I say nanny or house keeper or helper). Anyway, she seemed perfect. She was sweet and young and had an easy smile. But it was still day one.
So that is how she came and started living with me. See, the thing is I have lived alone for a LONG time and the only person whose habits I have been able to put up with so far are Sure’s (if it isn’t love…) everyone else has expiry date. So I had to struggle with having this girl around, but I thought I was doing okay-ish. I didn’t LOVE her (or anyone) being in the house but I needed help so I was trying to give things a chance.
But then, one day, I noticed that some of my stuff was missing. And then more stuff went missing. And then more. It turned out that in less than two weeks this baby girl had cleaned me out. Like it wasn’t bad enough that she used to just suddenly get up and go outside the house to break into extra loud song and hearty dance in the compound for absolutely no reason and at the oddest times ( I mean dance oh! With sweat and choreography). Anyway, she stole from us, so we parted ways.
Next! Housekeeper 2 comes along. She was slightly older and a lot more sombre. She had very hopeful eyes, like a child and a long graceful neck…like a gazelle. I liked her instantly but she could not speak a word of english and I could not speak a word of her version of Yoruba. Apparently, my Yoruba is really just english spoken with a Yoruba accent…who knew?
Anyway, with sign language and many vigorous gestures, we were able to communicate and co-exist quite happily. All was well with the world. Untilll…..
One day oh! I drove out of the house and so this lady thought, since it was a Sunday, I had gone off to Church and my usual sunday-sunday family visits which usually take all day but alas! I had only just gone to buy fried yam and roasted corn with ube from the woman down the road (this was my pregnancy craving).
Upon my return to the house about twenty minutes later, I asked the guard to call her from her quarters and he said she just strolled out. Anyway, she “strolled” for eight hours! Just like that. No discussion with me and no phone to reach her on! When she came home she met me half out of my mind with worry. Worry that quickly turned to anger when I saw her walk in, cool as a cucumber. She apologised profusely for her behaviour and started cleaning the house. Then suddenly, after about an hour and a half of being perfectly normal, she burst into deep, loud, uncontrollable sobs.
There is no begging I did not beg this lady to tell me what was wrong with her. But no, she just kept crying. So I said to her that perhaps her agent should come and take her home. She said she didn’t want to leave but her agent came and she left. She tried to come back but I didn’t have the energy for all that. So that ended there.
Finally, one third lady came. She was a whole other kettle of fish. From her first day, she looked sullen almost to the point of being rude. You know when someone looks at you in a certain tone of voice…
So, unlike the others, I felt myself disliking her immediately and I didn’t want her to stay. But Seun.Q convinced me to keep her on and try to see whether she just needed to acclimatise. It turns out Seun was right, she was not sullen, she was just new.
It’s just….sigh. Once she became comfortable, she was so comfortable that one night I noticed her slipping out around ten p.m, dressed in outing clothes. I didn’t mention anything to her that night but I started to watch her more closely. She would sneak out at least three to four times a week, all dolled up, at around ten p.m and would come back at past midnight.
Suffice it to say, I was over it (just like my wedding). As a result I don’t have any nanny for YB.
Sooooooo…on Sunday now, we were in Church and because of my lack of a nanny, I have to use my baby’s stroller to get her and all our stuff around conveniently. As a result, I have to use the lift to get up to the nursing rooms in Church and back to my car when service is done and we are ready to go home. It’s all a very neat arrangement.
So service was over, we had waited the traffic out and we were now leaving Church after an inspired message and there I was, on the lift, minding my business along with a few other people’s businesses and burning with the fire of the Lord until the lift door slid open. Hm!
Oghale who was with us (don’t you absolutely love how I just mention the names of people in my life and expect you to know who I am talking about? :D) now walked out ahead of YB and I, not even noticing the threat to my life and limb that had positioned itself in my way. Right there at the edge of the door was a lizard *UGH* a lady lizard.
So, naturally, I started pointing and shuddering and whimpering (all VERY productive reactions) and shifting from foot to foot, trying to communicate to Oghale with the use of a pointed finger, the terror that lay nearby. As I was still trying to express myself, the lizard and I made eye contact, she now started doing push ups. You know, taunting me. This, of course, made me shift from foot to foot even faster…a turbo foot shift, some may say. I couldn’t leave the lift, I was now effectively imprisoned.
Then it happened.
The lizard turned to face us and she ran into the lift. INTO IT!!! With us still there. This was not a small lizard oh! She was a grown woman, at least a mother of three or four. I fled for my life. Honestly, I thought I would collapse.
But the real story here is MUCH to my pride as a mother, I did not leave my child in that lift. If you had asked me before this time what I would have done, I would have said I would run out and then beg someone to help me go and bring her. But no! I stopped to get her and pushed her stroller at top speed out of that lift and then when we were at a safe distance, I proceeded to hop about on one foot and scratch my body because the memory of that lizard was just…itchy! Even now, writing about this has been so traumatic for me. But this is what I do, I face the fire and bring back the news to you. #Journalism #Ewemanpour
You are welcome.
Wow…would you look at the time!?! I guess my wedding rundown will be some other day. Sleep well and go to Church today and please pray for me that God can cure me of the trauma I suffered so…someday…somehow, I may go to Church once more.
Entire outfit: old navy
Skirt: Shakara Couture
Miu Miu Glasses: Sure
Shoes: Aminah Abdul Jillil
Wig: Uju’s wig, delivered to my house, newly made for her. I decided since it was in my house, I therefore own it. So I wore it.