I’m currently at a point in my life where I can only wish to live my life and try to be at peace with my God, conscience, and my neighbors. I try to avoid issues, though they seem find me most atimes. Last night’s event was one that I just couldn’t avoid, but I am totally unhappy that I didn’t get to address it properly.
Somewhere in Surulere,in Lagos in Nigeria, nights are characterized by ‘the discorded honking of cars ,nights of women rushing home to prepare the night meal for their children and husbands who come home with expectations of it, nights of loud music blaring from speakers in restaurants beckoning on hungry stomachs to patronize them, nights of the street light to grace you with their shine, to give you the assurance that they are with you as you go, lest you dash your feet against worst things than stones, while for some, nights in Lagos are opportunities to shoot their shot. Coming back from work yesterday night, all I could think of was go home, rest, perhaps eat and then sleep. Too bad for me, someone somewhere had other plans and to him I was his target for the night.
Ever encountered a guy, neat, body fragrance on point, you would think him to be responsible in thinking and actions,all of these you notice at first sight, only for you to realize you gave him far more credit than he needed? So here is the gist, This particular guy Mr .S. (not his actual name but for the purpose of this post) was calling me with the usual “Hi can I talk to you for a second’ fine girl, hello! Heysss” ( Ladies ,we can all relate) to all of which I ignored, ( don’t get me wrong, it’s necessary to Form and do guy) he managed to catch up with me and , believe me I was impressed. Judging from his looks, appearance, indeed I was. After exchanging pleasantries and all, Guy S volunteered to walk me home,to which I politely declined. So I searched for a place close-by and open and insisted that he said anything he wanted to say there and then. His accent is one to die for, his baritone nko, I was blown away. We got kind of personal ,because I felt being his friend won’t hurt a fly. When I knew that his thinking wasn’t as cool and perfect as his looks, was when I told him I was a student in one of the Nigerian University’s studying linguistics and communication studies, but engage in a sales job with my uncle during holidays to keep the body and soul together , I was happy with myself and felt he would feel the same way that I was making good use of my holidays, only for Guy .S. to quickly conclude that my parents are poor and that is why I have to work. HEY ! Can’t I do something worthwhile with my time even if my father is as rich as Bill Gates, For my mind this was the only thing he would say wrong for the night, For where, I received another shocker when Mr .S. told me that well at the end of the day. “ all the certificate I must have acquired will be useless, as I will dedicate my entire time to cooking and taking care of my husband and children and make the kitchen my permanent duty post” . The problem here isn’t in the kitchen as my duty post but as my Permanent duty post .
Hellllo! In this age who will be so daft as to say a thing like that, a banker for that matter? (I reserve my comment) . I felt like replying but a rare gentle spirit from nowhere restricted me. Chai! So that is how myopic his mind is( permit me to refer to his brain and not his eyes) . My dear people I didn’t wait to hear any of his self acclaimed story about his house ,car, or answer any of his questions again. I just turned,faced the direction leading to my house,took a step forward and another one till I was sure I was walking ,and dared him to call me back. When he didn’t, I guessed his brain already alerted him that he said something wrong. Respect my husband? Yes, Cook and take care of the children as an African woman, I would. But making the kitchen my permanent post won’t happen, because I see myself far above that level. Now don’t get me wrong, some women might decide to be a stay at home mum or wife, for peace to reign or for other reasons, but if Mrs A does it and it works for her don’t expect it to work for Mrs B.
My question is, what is wrong with being a working class lady, wife or mother? I’m confused because I feel women shouldn’t be relegated to the kitchen, there’s so much more for us outside. Your comments to answering this question will go a long way.
How I wish to see that guy, only God knows how my reply to him will sound.