Find what makes your heart beat faster and chase after it with all you've got. Soon enough you'll be running so fast you won't realise you're off the ground, spreading those beautiful wings ... and flying! - Oluwadamilola O. Oyedele















Wednesday, June 30, 2010

I Will Not Succumb!



What's it with the heavy pressure on young Nigerian women to get married? I refuse to succumb! I initially brought this up question as a Facebook status update. I used to dismiss the topic as one of the over-discussed. But I must admit, that was before the pressure was getting to me!

A few months ago I was feeling young and happy to be a graduate with my 'whole life ahead of me’. More recently, I started to feel like a ticking time bomb. I must confess I was feeling a little desperate for Mr Right a while ago. I even gave God a ‘deadline’… (Yes o, I’m only being honest). That was before I gave myself a good slap (I literally slapped my own face as I do from time to time). But really, this is an absolutely crazy sentiment because I am just two tens and two units old!

When I was in school I violently dismissed the fact that this pressure existed. A friend of mine spoke of an alumnus who was ‘still unmarried many years after university’. ‘God forbid o! 11 years out of school and she’s not married? *Shock horror!*’

I was always the one who would turn statements like these into arguments. I would passionately state that this ‘ marriage-by-force mindset’ is backward. So what if she’s not married? Why should a woman be judged by her marital status? Why should she be made to feel that the whole reason for her existence is to trade in her father’s last name and begin to manufacture her husband’s babies?

I realise that I may have been in a bubble – trying (too) hard to ignore/deny facts.

I can not speak authoritatively about many cultures, but I know that in Nigeria, a person, particularly, a woman is judged by her marital status, and the number and sex of her children. It may not be the truth, but the cold, hard FACT is that without a husband and children a woman will not be taken seriously. Take two women – Frustrated Married Madam (FMM) and Happily Single Babe (HSB). FMM’s husband would give Tyson and Ali a run for their money. He could also possibly outrun Tiger the ‘Cheetah’. FMM has two beautiful children though.

And then there’s HSB. She comes home to a peaceful, albeit very empty house, where she is free to just be.
Put both side by side in my society and FMM comes up tops 8 out of 10 times. What does that say about us? Quite simply, it says that in our own convoluted, paternalistic way, we are not so different from the big, bad West who we criticize for all our woes. We also value appearances (i.e. our idea of what is good) over truth and reality.

I must commend my parents (for now) though. They have never made me feel this strange, premature pressure. On the contrary, my dad is understandably mum on the subject. I’m sure the notion of his only daughter getting married off will never be a wholly gratifying topic. My mum shakes her head and says ‘Marriage is no joke o, you must get it right once and for all, so take your time.’ Then she goes on to give examples of some failed marriages. Truer words were never spoken.

Still this doesn’t mean that my other family and friends share the same view.

I have gotten lectured, speeched and talked, by older family members. Case in point – my auntie’s response to the said Facebook status update was this: ‘You haven't seen pressure o...just do quick and bring husband, otherwise, the 'real pressure' will mount up’. Hmmm…

However, the crowning glory was one morning at my grandparents’ (I love to stay at their house – I get spoiled beyond belief). That morning I was lying down, reading my bible. Grandma comes in and sits on the bed.

‘Damilola I want to talk to you.’ My heart skips a beat. I sit up, puzzled – I think it’s something serious.
She begins. ‘You know you’re now a big girl. You’re not a baby anymore, ehn. You’ve finished school and if you have someone that you like….’

Ah ha! The lecture; the speech; the talk.

The snag is that I would never ever have expected to get it from my grandmother, at least not yet. It was a full thirty minute speech. She waited for my comments at the end. I simply smiled and said ‘Grandma I’ve heard.’

And then there’s the men! Ha, what the hell! They’re suddenly sprouting out of nowhere with renewed brashness, as if I have desperado written on my brow. Or am I being over sensitive? Please (help me) judge.

One gave me a gift – a Christian book titled ‘The Single Life’ after our SECOND meeting. This first meeting, it lasted no longer than five minutes o, and even then I spent the whole time inching further and further away from his assault-by-halitosis.

And another one. I am walking into UBA House on the Marina, when a Random Young Man (RYM) comes up behind me and grabs at my hand. Imagine…

Me (squinting and frowning in shock, surprise and everything in between): Sorry, do I know you?
I expect him to say something like, ‘don’t you remember me from school/church/somewhere?’ At least I would have been a little relieved. Alas…
RYM (grinning from ear to ear): We entered the same BRT from Obanikoro.
Me (mildly hysterical): You don’t even know me and you just tried to hold my hand!
RYM (still showing his 32): Hope you don’t mind.
Me: I don’t know you!

I start to walk faster. To cut a long, weird story short, he asks for my number and I refuse, still in shock. He explains that he only came this way because of me. I smile and tell him he’s much better off going his way….

With these few points of mine, I hope I’ve made my point.

Another point is….

I want to travel to obscure countries – I want to meet people from different cultures. I want a rich life! Of course I can do this as a married woman but guess what? You guessed right! The same people – grandparents, parents, uncles, aunties, neighbours, family friends, enemies who were singing ’Where is he?’ will change from winking at your face to winking at your belly as soon as you return from the moon. They’ll ask about your health. Which is a (not subtle) way of asking if you don swallow belle. They will not stop! So what if I had put off my dreams and pursued marriage just to please them? I will have to put off my dreams again for the next how many years while I raise children to please them! By then, who knows what will have become of my joie de vivre? Do you catch my drift…

Do not get me wrong o. I want to be married, and I will be. I will make all the necessary sacrifices to build my home and take care of my family. I have strong feelings and no illusions about the idea of being a ‘working mother’, (a view I’ll share later on this blog). But I will do all this at the right time and for the right reasons. I will have the pleasure of knowing that I am giving up/holding on on some goals as MY CHOICE. Not because of the ‘pressure’ from the people around me, but because it’s God’s time.

That’s That!

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

This Is Me


Here are some things about me that I couldn’t fit into the ‘About Me’ box. It was lifted from my Facebook page, where I wrote it a while ago. Some of the statements are now out of date, so I made notes below.

1. I am extremely diplomatic. I will almost always tell you what I think you want to hear, except with very close friends, and even then…

2. I have no time for stuck up, self-important fools. Pride is so unattractive.

3. I adapt to my environment completely, i.e. I can change from a very well mannered lady to a total razz mess, depending on where I am.

4. I have the ability to make myself laugh (hmm where have I heard that before?) and I’m okay at making others laugh too. I really admire funny and quick witted people.

5. (Dedicated to name withheld for privacy) I STILL SUCK my tongue and squash my belly button (gosh). Hence I have a belly button shape that ensures that I will never feel inclined to expose my tummy!!!*

6. Coming to university in the town of Ile-Ife is the best thing that has happened to me yet. I have been changed.

7. I am a reader. Avid does not begin to describe how much I read, I read everything.

8. I have the random ability to keep the most random stuff for the most absurdly random time. Notes, pens, pins, etc. Case in point, my (inherited) old faithful journal is now about 9 years old and counting (Can anyone remember the red furry journal with black spots?!) And I very recently lost a pen my class teacher, Mr Olajide, gave us all in Grade 12 (2003).

9. Did I mention that I write too? I’m convinced I peaked in secondary school though. Since then I have attempted several times and struggle to write a coherent piece of literature (not entirely true). I won’t give up trying though. Honestly, sadly, I think I just might make a great editor.**

10. I think mobile phones in general, and text messages in particular are the worst things to ever happen to written English Language. It bugs me when people write things like ‘gud’ or ‘dem’ or forget to put commas and full stops, and I’ll ONLY do some of it sometimes to save space on a text message and immediately ask for forgiveness from the Fathers of English. However I would never be caught dead writing things like “lyfe”.

11. For more than a decade I was convinced that I was born to be doctor. It took two weeks of trudging around University College Hospital, Ibadan in 2003 to burst that bubble.

12. The glass is half empty.

13. My favourite food? I can’t choose! I love food. I love to try new tastes and foods as long as they smell good (no offence to South Africans who think boiled uncleaned intestines of a cow is a delicacy). I also enjoy cooking, but not as much as I enjoy eating.

14. Hence I have the most fluctuating weight ever. I’m usually on a ‘diet’. My mum has told me that my wedding gift from her would be a treadmill.

15. I love God and He loves me. That’s why I am. I believe that one has to anchor one’s life on something solid or risk insanity.

16. My name is way too long. Imagine having to write Oluwadamilola Odunayo Oyedele on every page in an exam. It slows me down!!! The man I marry would have to have a surname that is just as long as or better still shorter than my father’s.

17. I don’t like my teeth thanks to sucking, and will get braces sometime in the future. My parents have ignored all my pleas, threats, and blackmail over the years. “Your teeth are ok!” Humph. That’s just made me more obsessed.

18. I can be really mean sometimes. I’m working on that.

19. I love music. If I like a song, I will play it over and over again for days till it has engraved itself into me. Everything happens to the music in my head, and the lyrics of the song don’t necessarily correlate to the situation.

20. I ‘stab’ way more lectures than I should. I’ve refused to go to lectures today. I can’t wait to be through with uni and all the accompanying guilt.***

21. I’ve inherited a strange ability from my maternal grandmother. When I’m really happy and we’re conversing, I'll pick up the last thing you said and turn it into a chorus. Random!!!

22. My favourite pet is my baby brother Gbemiro. He’s adorable, intelligent and for now he’s still happy to run errands!

23. My few good friends are like my family. I’m not the friend-y sort of bird. I’d rather fly alone, thank you.

24. My favourite quote at the moment is “I have a Bachelors degree in Business, but a PhD in Common Sense” by Ben Bruce.

25. I’m a romantic.

Hope you’ve learned a thing or two!
Hope you’ve smiled at least once too…

* (#5) I literally woke up one day and decided that I was tired of sucking my tongue. I wrote it down in a notebook, and that was it! From that moment I ceased to uglify my face and destroy my teeth by weirdly folding my tongue backwards and sucking on it. I believe that only those who have sucked (fingers, tongue, and other unmentionable parts) will understand how hard it is to stop. But I have. Praise the Lord! As for the belly button… ahem.

** (#9) Scratch that! I am a writer, period.
*** (#20) I’m now through, thank God.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Drumbeats


Before you read this, let me give a rough background.

I wrote this poem at a very trying time in my life. I guess the pain was good because this poem made me really so happy that I desired to add 'poet' to the list of thing I aspire to be. So here it is...


Drumbeats

Drumbeats of my sunrise,
Drumbeats of my past.
The familiar sounds of childhood,
The joys and pains that last.
Whenever I’m awake at night,
And as I drift across the day,
The steady beats lurk in the crooks of my mind,
I constantly hear them play.

The familiar rhythm of these drumbeats,
They take me on my journey,
As the steady beats go on I recognize
My very enthralling story.
The twists and turns of this enchanting tale,
I can interpret most of the time,
Like when the beat becomes a wanton wail,
As the drums slow to a woeful whine.

At times the beats elude me,
They become a strain to hear,
Or I cannot make out the complicated clatter
Which begin to fill my tiny ears.
No matter how hard I strain to make sense
Of this seemingly melodious rumble,
The beats, they elude me and seem to be
Surely enjoying my perplexed anxiety.

Other times my drumbeats get too loud,
I cannot bear to hear them.
Or is my conscience constricting my capacity,
As it blocks out the mocking jeers?
These drumbeats, they seem to tell, again, of times gone very far,
Of the stings that never dull – the strikes, prickly as a stare.
So I try to block the tempo’s shout,
Hoping that with time, the beats will die out.

The simplest are the ones, those beats,
Which make me grin and cackle as I listen.
I so want to tap the solemn stranger beside me,
And share the magical rhythm.
The perfect pulse, at the perfect volume,
These beats are especially pleasing,
But I cannot take note of them for long,
I’m inclined to lose myself in their unrealistic song.

So contrary to what may seem clear,
My most enchanting rhythms,
Are not the thrilling thumps the drumbeats make.
They are the mystical tempos of foreign lands,
Strokes of alien journeys I am yet to take.
I have never heard these beats echo, yet they hold the greatest allure,
They are the drumbeats of my sunset,
Drumbeats of a future pure.

© 2006, Oluwadamilola Odunayo Oyedele

Monday, June 14, 2010

New Beginnings




So this is it, or should I say - That’s That!

I've finally decided to get on with the blogging thing. Mostly, credit goes the Future Project’s Young Writers’ Network Creative Classes, which helped re-kindle a fire that I knew was dying, but felt helpless to do anything about.

The blog will evolve, I’m sure, but for now it’s a mix of poetry, prose and opinion. Enjoy.