Victim Mentality

Today I came into work and as usual logged onto face book while i enjoyed my morning coffee. As i clicked on the home icon on face book, i saw something that very much startled me. A friend, of mine had written a note on face book, where she essentially wrote about, "not knowing who her true friends where, until she had her automobile accident". Apparently according to her after her accident, she discovered that the friend she thought would be there for her, wasn't there at all and that it was the one that she had not spoken to a while that came to her aid. See that's all well and good, except that is complete and utter rubbish. Of course as always i am respectful of peoples rights to thier own feelings but in this case i will have to be excused for my dissension on this issue. i am the friend which she claims did not come to her aid.

I write this not out of guilt but out of anger. Out of rage. Out of disappointment. Out of hurt. How long should someone keep dancing to the tune of their own music? How long before she gets tired, and looks around?

I loved this girl with all my heart. In some ways i was closer to her than my own sister. For years, she was my life, my hope. We went everywhere together. Were was i without her? And she without me? I drew courage from her strength as a woman and from her courage as a person. But all is never as it seems.

Before her accident, we had drifted apart. I cant say why for her, but for me the drifting was done rather consciously. I realised that my friendship with her was becoming mentally exhausting. In fact spiritually exhausting if there is such a thing as that. Ever since she had moved to Town, i had always been there for her. More than her own family. I had many times sacrificed my own needs for her, never for once angry about it. In fact, when she was angry i was angry. I carried her emotions as though they were mine. I carried her pain as though they were mine. I would never smile as she hurt. It was the only kind of friendship i knew. The only one i know now. It is the only sort of friendship i am capable of. I don't know how to give halfway. But it seems she was very much an expert. She would give, as long as it was not of great exertion to her. But even as i write this it would be wrong not to recognize that she was there for me. When my family was evicted, she had opened her home. She taught me many things. When i had no job, she would sit on the computer helping me search for jobs. And she could not have bestowed those graces, on a more grateful individual.

But you see there were differences in "our being there for each other". I was her rock. The one person she always turned to. The one person she knew, would travel above and beyond for her. The one person she could entrust with her son. I loved her son. And i still love her son. And her son knows this. On Saturday, he called me. "Aunty, how come i don't see you anymore?" "How come we don't talk anymore". How broken hearted i felt. I asked him to ask his mom, if he can come over one weekend. I would hate to loose him. To loose that innocent banter we had just because ....


But i realise that my own needs and wants cannot always be relegated to the back seat. Sometimes it needs to be heard. I don't know whose fault that was. Perhaps the primary blame lies with me. Indeed it should. But i saw it only after it had happened. I saw how i remained stagnant, while i helped her to soar. I saw how i helped her achieve, while achieving nothing. While i struggled to stand, i was helping her to do some heavy lifting. But even as i realised all these things. I remained in the friendship. She was my everything. Closer to me than family. I knew not how to let go. Last August, i finally did. Not really out of my volition, but out of a few events that forced me to scrutinize her ever so closely. So disappointed was i in her very character. Perhaps those events were just a catalyst to the true emotions that had remained hidden in my heart for so long. An excuse if you please. Somehow i found the strength to withdraw, to take a step back. Today people ask me a lot of questions like why? After many years of friendship, why? But no one except myself can comprehend how liberated my soul has been for the past month. How whole i feel. How free i feel. I no longer have to ask, is this what she feels or these really my true emotions. Would that they were me just for a second, to experience this.

But even as i reflected, i never thought to end my friendship with her. I just simply needed some time. But i erred in some ways. Firstly i never called her to tell her my feelings. How can one defend against something that they do not know. Secondly i ignore her. However to my surprise she never called and so i presumed that we were both struggling with the same issue.

Then she had her accident. I broke my silence, and tried to call her. She didn't pick up. I resorted to emailing her to wish her a speedy recovery and inquire after her son. We emailed back and forth for a while, until we ran out of things to say and stopped.

I am so angry right now because how simply she has reduced it all. How dare she describe me as the friend that never was? How dare she say that i was never true. Was it her friend, "that she had not spoken to in a while" that lay beside her on the bed all those nights she cried. That reassured her, that encouraged her? That laid her heart bare for her. That grew depressed, when she was. Was it her other friend, that loved her all those years. That loved her son like he was her own. Was it her friend that put her life on her hold for her. Did this friend, always put her first?

I am so glad that she has finally gained some insight on the true "meaning of friendship". I hope for her sake, it is the right meaning.

The White Dress And The Mad Man

Must make mental note never to wear white to an occasion again. I love white, but the shit gives me acute paranoia. This constant need to check myself to make sure that all is well, which involves frequenting the bath room. which in turn gives the impression that i must be suffering from diarrhea. This time around i was positive that my period would somehow disregard its regular cycle to attack me such that i would be covered with blood. But how could i pass on that dress. Having stolen it from my sister, i had been desperately looking for a place to wear it to, and yesterday's event was perfect. The compliments that i received, almost erases the mental torture...almost.. but not quite.
But one would think that the beautiful white dress with all its self inflicting nightmares was the signficant point of the evening. Between my regular visits to the washroom, another story was developed.
As i once again drew my now, tired friend outside, to air the white dress which had once again clung to my body due to heavy dancing, we were approached by a stranger.
A gentleman, who i swear must have been positively over the age of 50 (while i have a tendency to over exaggerate, i promise you that in this case i am in all earnest) approached my friend.
In fact Gentleman is too kind a term, .... perhaps madman is more suitable???....Indeed i shall call him madman!
Madman to friend, thick Nigerian accent and all "what is your name"
Friend "Olive"
At this point, i almost died of laughter. Of all the names she could have come up with.. OLIVE!!!!
madman to friend, "ok O-Leaf" he was of course oblivious that the joke was currently on him.
"O-Leaf, my dear i like you, and i want to get to know you. Give me ehhhhh.. your number"
At this point i had to interrupt him.
Me, "what's your name"
he replied "madman"
"madman", i said to him, "you should know that any self respecting man of your age, should talk to women within a specific age bracket. "O....leaf" is only 21 years of age, which by my calculations makes you old enough to be her father. Isnt that rather ridiculous."
madman was stunned.
i am positive he was thinking, who does this girl think she is.
He tried to rationalise with me. "if she is over 18 years of age, she is old enough"
Me, "for what, exactly? "
I could see the rage in madman's face. "This is the highest ..... eh... chei. Insult i have.... received in this Canada, and.. and ... and....by this little girl" . He sputtered. Visibly upset.
Interesting to note, that we were all of a sudden "little girls".
Anyways, the madman fled, but not before he announced to everyone and anyone who would hear him, that he had been really insulted.
friend to me, "am really glad i came with you, i wouldn't have known what to say to him. I usually just smile and ignore them"
Me to friend, "my dear, so did i but in a community as small as this, 2 minutes of your time, where they are seen talking to you is all they need to spread malicious gossip. I have decided that it is better to be misconstrued as rude than to have them claim sexual liaisons with me."
friend to me, "true"
we decided that we were going to have to sit this party out.

Nigeria: Not The Giant Of Africa!

Today, Nigeria celebrates its 46th year of independence.. from colonial rule that is. I suppose that is indeed an achievement. But you will excuse me if i am not exactly jumping up and down in jubilation. In places around the world, events are to be held to commemorate this important milestone. But i remain confused as to exactly what i am supposed to be cheering about. My sense of forboding is further illustrated by Nigeria's 37th position in the new Ibrahim African Governance Index, which ranks 48 African countries from best to worst. That leaves us with little with which to congratulate ourselves on. Its often been said, that a true patriot is one who loves her country even as she is critical of it. I will not be part of any celebration this weekend, because we cannot continue to celebrate our independence from colonial rule without nothing to show for it. Its almost akin to the peoples of the American South, who rejoice in the American Ideal, all the while ignorant of its numerous failings. We must concern ourselves, with how to better our federation. We must want more for ourselves. When Corruption, greed, and meagre human rights ceases to be the staple of the Nigerian federation, only then will the labours of our heroes past, not be in vain. Only then can we proudly salute. A half-hearted "happy Independence day" to my Compatriots.