Hello darlings! How are you all doing? Oyinda sent me this amazing story that had me smiling, and I knew I had to post it. This lovely African story was written by Osato Igodan (Oyinda’s friend) and it is really impressive for a try. I know this is a busy period, but please read this beautiful story and let us encourage Osato. Thank you 🙂
“Mama,” the customer said. “This your akara no big oh! Dem no plenty. Add small join am na.”
Mama replied, “Customer! You too dey complain! Wetin you wan make I add again na? Oya, no worry, I go add small; but you know say this akara business no easy. Man must chop sha, no matter what. Wetin I go do na? I suppose work hard for my pikin dem and oko mi. Customer bear with me, oh jare. Na condition wey dey make crayfish bend.”
The customer said, “Mama! No worry. Life go better!”
“Honestly, Vanessa, look at you. A medical doctor! A woman of brilliance and intelligence and here you are- a slave in your own home.”
Vanessa replied, “Tonye don’t worry about me; I’m fine. If this is what Esosa wants then this is how it will be. As long as my husband is happy, I am happy.”
“Ahn! For what now? What kind of happiness is this,” Tonye asked.
“For peace in my marriage, Tonye. I love my husband no matter what; be I his slave or his queen,” Vanessa answered.
Nkem is stuck in traffic for hours. When she’s finally about to move forward, a huge truck comes right in front of her and hits her car, breaking off her side mirror. She winds down her window and begins to curse at the truck driver, screaming insults at him. She suddenly realizes that she is talking like a local woman. Taking deep breaths, she calms herself down, reminding herself that she is an educated woman; not like the typical bush Lagosian woman. She reminds herself that she has a Masters degree and therefore, she must act civilized.
“In Jesus’ name we have prayed!” the pastor shouted.
“Amen!” Kemi replied. She had hoped that that time, the prayer would actually work and she would not have another miscarriage. But somehow, Kemi knew that that pregnancy was not a different one. She knew she was going to lose it and start all over again. She knew that her mother-in-law was still going to insist that she was a witch and that was why she could not give birth. She knew her husband would still come back home very late at night, feeding her lies as usual. She knew he was still going to be secretly sleeping with the woman his mother brought to him. She knew he was still going to be hypocritical about the whole thing, yet she dared to hope that that prayer was more powerful than the others. Kemi was a quiet woman. She liked her life; she didn’t know why but she liked it nonetheless. She was content with the cycle her life followed. She was still going to try to give her husband and mother-in-law a child and a grandchild. She was still going to hope.
All these women are examples of “The Nigerian Woman”. They are the long-suffering, the hardworking, the satisfied, the humble and the proud. They are like the colors of the rainbow- different types and shades. They are like buckets- undoubtedly very useful. Even if half broken, they can be used as mediums of storage and if broken to the bottom, they can still be used as some sort of lid. In other words, they are never useless, always have values that we don’t realize at first but when we look beyond the surface, we see their true worth.
The Nigerian Woman is like art; some of them possess beauty that is evident while some possess beauty that is beneath the surface. The Nigerian Woman is a hero. She is a story that can never really be completely told and read. She is the owner of the canteen by the roadside where, while sweating, she rubs her forehead and splashes sweat into the food to give you a taste of hardwork; she is the uneducated fourth wife of an equally uneducated rich ‘Baba’ that knows and will know more about life than you; she is the akara seller who has more optimism than a rich kid- the one who still pushes herself to provide for her family in a society where that is the husband’s responsibility. She is the one who will teach you by spanking you; she is the one who sacrifices everything for the benefit of others. She is your mother and she is my mother.
The Nigerian Woman is forever to be appreciated. Whether she is a PhD holder or a full time housewife, she still has a job as a Nigerian woman; a job that only she can do. It is one thing to be a woman and a totally different thing to be a Nigerian woman. Think of a Nigerian woman and thank her for who she is.0