MY PANDORA BOX
It may sound a little weird to know that I have not always been this exuberant or confident. Oh well I was in my youthful years. I was super confident. I knew what I wanted and I went for it.
I mean, I wanted to read Mass Communication, I did. I wanted to read Theatre Arts, I did. I did my Speed Writing diploma, and I did my PGD in Education. I chose where I wanted to work, I dumped jobs at will. I was in the oil company; I was in Public Affairs in charge of passports and visas. I was in charge of entertainment, and it was a very busy schedule. I was flying all over the place; I was virtually living on air.
I was on the editorial team of the in- house magazine, I travelled all over gathering news, from Egbin checking out stories on a “pig getting stuck in the Rig’ don’t ask me to explain this; those in the field know what I am talking about. I went for Community relations, I went to Atlas cove, I went to Escravos, I knew how ships come to the import berthing platforms, I covered the building of new tank farms, I went up the spiral stairs of tank farms, and I covered news from depot to depot. It was a very busy schedule.
I had an official car that took me everywhere. Do not snigger; my direct boss was a very striking beautiful and intelligent woman everyone dubbed as difficult, proud and very demanding and ambitious. She did not breathe hot waves down my delicate spine. Where she felt was beneath her to go, she delegated me to go. She watched over me like mother hen maybe out of a grateful heart that I did some of her extra works, I draw a blank here.
I was in the bank, I was in the newspaper house, I tried broadcasting I did not find my forte in continuity but I found my métier in programmes where I anchored feminine titbits. I learnt how to dash hastily into moving cars to be at the beat, keeping pace with the military Governors huge strides and trying not to fall over your face while covering events. I had enviable jobs and held privileged positions, I sailed through hurdles with grit and self-assurance; I understood the dynamics of success and pursued it with purposeful ease and the hand of God was on me.
I was popular, I loved fashion, some people in my Victoria street opened windows to peep when I walk, and the office watched me strutting in in my own style. A large circle of friends, old and young liked me for reasons I never bothered to find out. Those who despised me I never got around to landscape their hearts to know why because I would not permit anyone crawl under my skin. I was very independent, assertive, had firm belief in my wits and guts!
My siblings had high expectations of me. They knew I already had the panacea for success. My beloved aunties and uncles were alarmed at my pace. They felt I would end up unmarried. I was a complexity of gentle, “toughie” “alaya gbangban”, and Margaret thatcher was my alter ego. I did not give shit to no one and I did not want to be a recipient either. I was a simplicity of conformity yet I made my own rules. I knew the concept of right and wrong. I followed it to the T.
Then I got married!
I took marriage as a sole career and motherhood as an agenda as elusive as it was for some time.
I wanted a career but denied by tradition, morals and religion of my OWN MISGUIDED INTERPRETATIONS.
Do not get me wrong they had good intent for my life but I had misguided interpretation.
Therefore, I pursued my career and agenda with all the sheer will and vigor because I thought it was the greatest achievement of a woman until I arrived at no victor no vanquished after 22 years!
It has been an incredible journey out of my bigotry. My gridlocked brain has just begun functioning again, from where my mind eye saw reality but fastidiously refused to deliver it to my brain.
So many opportunities slipped me by because I refused to smell the scent of success other than “I love my boo like there is no tomorrow. Mogbona, mogbona, mogbona mogbona oh yeah” (tiwa savage) lol
You may say I am lucky, but I see it as the finger of God in my affairs, but the reality of missed opportunities is curling around me like gnarled fingers. It is asphyxiating. My mates are already breasting the tape and the sound of the gun for my starting point has just boomed in the air. What I am writing here is softer than the real experience.
What am I saying? I am saying that I have never been a superwoman, advocate, or the ombudsman that I am today. Currently, I am a woman rising from the trap of obsolete conventions on an infinite journey of immeasurable wisdom to fill the gulch in me.
What am I saying? I am saying that I realized very late that a woman should balance her life with career, marriage and motherhood.
Stay at home mothers, good job. You are not a failure. The greatest achievement for a woman is to have Children who would celebrate her with the evergreen song of “Sweet Mother” all her life time and even beyond.
What am I saying? When the children have flown the nest, you can still start a career.
I am a wife; I am a mother and so what?
I NEED A CAREER TO FILL A VOID IN ME.