All that Glitters

Often times, we delude ourselves thinking about how grateful we ought to be in positions we find ourselves, even if we are dying a slow death,as a result of mistakes we made and won’t correct out of shame of what others would think . The “I am fine” answers we give are just cliché and not how we really feel. How deep should the cut go, before we realize how hollow we have become? Too many questions we try to find answers to!  Probably if some of the world’s finest researches haven’t taken place, we would still be in the age where all I would ever care about is pleasing my husband. The saying asking for trouble is so apt, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we shouldn't try to find answers; I am just trying to exonerate myself. At least the same research provided the medium I’m using to type this letter as well as how I planned his death. Have I managed to shock you? Well how about I start from the beginning…the very beginning.

My mum always says “Take what ever life throws your way” when something bad happens and I think this is the only way she knows how to console. This was the same thing she said when my dad died leaving behind huge debt we could possibly never repay. We had to leave the three bedroom apartment in Surulere to a dingy one room apartment that had a general bathroom and toilet. I read somewhere that luxury has class, but with the much I have seen, poverty also has class. The face- me- I face you label is making where I lived sound “tush”: we took what we had back then for granted. The life I once enjoyed soon became a distant past. The royal rug was pulled off from right under my feet and I fell- hard and low.  I lost my standing amongst my peer. I would invent lies whenever they wanted to visit.

“I have to be in church for choir practice” I would say. This was the only excuse that seemed genuine and somewhat true. Choir practice was only on some select days of the week. However, I chose to let them think it was every day. Singing and acting were how I escaped from reality and when it was time to return I did so grudgingly. The trek home took longer than necessary, who was I kidding? That fairy godmother would ride in her chariot, wave her magic wand and make it all go away? I was no Cinderella and there wasn't any charming prince or my evil step mother.

 Where were my uncles and other extended family all this time?, well  it is nothing short of the un-ordinary, they abandoned us as soon as the sand was piled on top of the casket they stingily managed to contribute for. This same people I remember would come anytime to the house without notice, demanding ridiculous sum of money for something mundane. They are greedy and careless people who dine with you when all is rosy and take off at the slightest sign of trouble. We were very much on our own and times were really hard! We all had to pitch in somehow and being the only girl, I stayed home to make sure that food was prepared  and ready for my siblings and mum who after hawking on the streets would have something to look forward to when returning. Those times alone in the room were more than a blessing. I was able to write my songs without anyone knowing what I was up to. My dream to become a singer / actress wasn't something I could say to my mother. The idea was inconceivable and so all I could do was bid my time and enjoy my stint in the choir and drama group.

Excuse me for a moment while I wet my parched tongue. My lower lip I have bitten since the start of this letter, I can taste blood. Well that is small price to pay compared to what you are about to find out

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