CHAPTER ONE
How hunters are born
There’s something to be said when a girl cannot turn to the left or right on social media without been assaulted by the wedding of a cousin, the engagement of a distant friend, the childbirth of a casual acquaintance or the boo’d up picture of a random celebrity, showing the rest of their world just how juicy and mushy their marriage is. It simply means social media has been hacked.
You may think this means the universe has joined forces with family members and social acquaintances to remind a girl that time is running out and there’s no ring on her finger yet, neither are babies popping out of her nether regions (yuck to the blood and pain, Yaay to the babies that emerge). You’re wrong.
The universe does not need to team up with family members and social acquaintances. Those people do a thorough job of it already. What it means however, is that social media has joined the gang of insensitive people that are husband-shaming, wife-shaming and single-shaming young people.
You don’t agree with me?
Okay, here are the facts:
1. I hardly use social media but today being a dull Public Holiday on a Thursday, I was bored and decided to check Facebook.
2. In just thirty minutes of scrolling down my timeline, I have seen three engagements, two weddings, five wedding invitations and two child dedications.
In thirty minutes!
What would happen if I spent an hour?
I used to think Facebook was only good for reminding you of people’s birthdays you couldn’t be bothered to remember on your own, and forcing you to write a birthday message on their wall. Now, it seems they have upgraded their services. Maybe the association of pock-nosing but ‘well-meaning’ aunties, uncles, friends, exes and family had a meeting with Zuckerberg.
No, I am not being irrational. In your rational mind, you probably think that my friends and I are in that age group where marriage and childbirth seem to be the next logical step. I don’t believe that. I believe Facebook has been hacked by that nosy association. There is no length they will not go to, in order to pressure a girl. Or a man.
Well, this girl is not falling for that line of bullshit. I don’t know why the world is obsessed with marriage. Marriage is not a survivalist thing. Somebody does not need to marry in order to be successful or to be happy. Not that I am against marriage. If I happen to fall in love with a good man tomorrow, I will marry. But until then, I will not allow anyone pressure me into making stupid mistakes. Not in this life.
Men are not the biggest thing on my mind. My headache now is the woman that gave birth to me, and her stubborn stance that I will not move out of my father’s house, unless I am moving into my future husband’s house.
For a girl who has been chronically single for almost all her life, (that was just to make me sound less pathetic. I have been single all my life), it seems like she wants me to stay here forever. For reasons best known to her.
It’s not as if I am of much help. After a half-hearted sweep of the house in the morning, my hands become allergic to any other form of house work. I don’t cook because I hate cooking, whereas my mother is the chef of chefs. I kid you not. If she could spend all her life in the kitchen, she would. In another life, she would be a world-renowned chef. In this life, she is the first woman the family calls when they want to cook for weddings and occasions. Her food never disappoints. Too bad I didn’t inherit this trait. Or her looks (she is buxom. I am thin and straight, like a stick).
But this is not about my mother. This is about my plan to leave this house in five months’ time, with or without a ring on my finger. I have lived in this house since I was a kid. The walls are begging me to leave. I swear to God, if I hear that familiar creak of our parlour door one more time, I will go mad. There just comes a time when a girl has got to go explore the world on her own. My mother allowed my three (idiot) elder brothers to leave the house without wives, so why is my case different?
This is the ingenious plan I have come up with: I will start looking for an apartment on the sly. Preferably a nice, affordable self-contain in a good compound. When I find a good one, I will start moving out bit by bit so my mom will suspect nothing. By the time she knows what is going on, this baby girl will be living a free and independent life. Haha!
She will be mad, yes, but she will forgive me. What does it say of our society that a girl must move from one place of dependency (her father) to another place of dependency (her husband)? What is wrong with a financially responsible girl living on her own? If my mother is right and it means that men will not want to marry a girl living alone, then those men are scum.
I don’t know why the hullabaloo about men. Men stink. They are literally pigs to live with. I have three elder brothers, so trust my judgement. My mother never understands why I never make any effort to impress men. She doesn’t realise that her sons have ruined men for me. And yes, before you ask, I am beautiful, though some people have referred to me a tomboy. Just because I wear my hair short, I like t-shirts and shorts, with boots, does that make me a tomboy?
You decide.
But if being a girly girl means wearing a wig for hours, or wearing tight gowns, skirts, and a face full of make-up, then I will gladly remain a tomboy. Tight clothes are very uncomfortable. I like my clothes to give my body room to breathe. Plus, I do not like tucking-in my stomach after I eat. In case you’re wondering, I do not have a big stomach. The problem is that sometimes when I eat really good food, my stomach kind of sticks out like a sore thumb. I think it’s a thing of pride, the way the human stomach wants to show people that the bearer is chopping life.
But pride, they say, is bad. So, we try to show our humility by forcing our stomachs in.
Anyways, this social media thing has me all miffed. Must every engagement be filmed for social media? And what is the point of a bridal shower anyway? A group of girls wearing too-much make-up and matching outfits in a hotel room seem like a waste of time to me. It would be better if they actually did it right by giving silly gifts to the bride.
This is just another example of how we copy white tradition without even knowing what it stands for, or doing it right. Like how some of us have started celebrating Halloween. What a laugh. If you ask those same people to celebrate the New Yam Festival, or the Argungun Festival, they will curl their lips in distaste.
Anyways, my plan is set and there’s one person I know who will help me out with this; my best friend Adaora.
Seems good, only that the character seems self-centered. Never like reading books where protagonists are self-centered and all crampy. I guess that's just me and my preferences
ReplyDeleteLol! It actually engaging. She doesn't take the whole thing seriously yet one can still tell it serious to her(the subject matter)
ReplyDelete