Last updated on February 23rd, 2023 at 02:11 pm
Dimeji’s first birthday was this weekend and we were planning for it. He had started to walk and he could call ‘mummy.’ He could also clap and sing and when he wasn’t being frustrating enough for me to cry, he could be cute and sweet.
I was making a list to be sent to Jude, so he could forward the needed money to me. After completing the list, I sent it to Jude and watched the TV while I waited for his reply.
***
I woke up startled. Looking around, I saw that even Dimeji has slept off on the floor. I carried him as gently as I could and dropped him on the chair. Lately, I had been sleeping off easily and finding it hard to get up in the mornings. What was I doing before I slept off? Oh!
I picked my phone and as expected, I already got some messages from Jude. They were not really friendly. I opened one and it read:
Two cakes?! That’s absurd, he is only a year old!
I sighed and opened the second one.
What do we need a DJ for? Teletubbies? What on earth is this? I am disappointed!
If I wasn’t angry at how silly his messages made me feel, I would actually laugh. This whole idea was funny and absurd to me. Why are we celebrating a one year old’s birthday? The boy still eats oranges with the skin. He doesn’t know anything.
I had told mummy when she mentioned it that it was unnecessary and that, left to me, I would wait till he was 3 years old and smarter. Mummy thought it was weird. And times like this made me really wish my husband and I were friends as I suppose couples should be, because then he would see things my way.
I remembered telling her when she called that the whole thing was going to be stressful on Dimeji and it was not necessary.
“What do you mean by that?” She replied.
“Mummy, this celebration is about Dimeji right and he doesn’t care if we do it or not.”
“What is all this? What will you now show him when he is older and asks for his first birthday celebration pictures?”
“Mummy, I can bake a little cake and take pictures of him at home.”
“You sound lazy. Very unenthusiastic about every single thing. How do we thank God for his mercies? That day is not about Dimeji alone. It is a day to celebrate God’s goodness in our lives.”
“Hmm, this same birthday. Okay o.”
“This is what annoys me about you, Lape, as much as I like you. Every idea always seems foolish to you.”
“Foolish? Is that what you are deducing from this, mummy?”
“Don’t mummy me. Jude and I spoke about it and agreed. It’s your turn, everything is upside down.”
“You and Jude spoke about it? Really? Hmmm.”
“Bye bye, please.” She hung up.
Now Jude was acting as if I brought it up. I opened the last message and it read:
We shall discuss this when I get back. Your incompetence for something as little as this is distracting me at work.
I dropped my phone.
If only I had money.
All I had was about two thousand naira in my account after buying my powder last week. I had exhausted the previous one like three months ago and couldn’t afford another and have been going to church with only foundation and white powder. I tried to use good makeup products because of my sensitive skin, if not I would have bought one cheap powder at the market.
I wish I had money. I had tried getting a job by myself after Jude had indirectly showed that he was not in support and mummy had called me to warn me. I let the issue be for some weeks so that no one would suspect anything and then I printed my CV and cover letter.
One morning after Jude left, I bathed Dimeji and dressed him. I dropped him off at the crèche that I used to drop him at when he was very little and I had to go to the market. After making sure he was settled, I took a bus and went to the company I had in mind. It was a livestock farm and they were into rearing and processing livestock. The farm was very big and well-known in Osogbo.
When I got there, I was directed to their receptionist who was surprisingly busy with her work and very nice.
“Good afternoon, ma.” I said.
“Good afternoon to you, ma. How can I help you?”
“Please, I am here to drop my CV. I do not have an appointment, but I thought you can have it and should there be a vacancy, you can get in touch with me.”
“Oh! That’s good. Can I have it?”
“Thank you.” I passed my file to her.
“You can have your seat, ma.” She got up and went into another office with my file in her hand. I got to see her full outfit when she got up—a pair of red flats and a yellow gown. She looked really pretty.
I couldn’t remember the last time I dressed like that. I didn’t look too bad now, but I was dressed below my usual standard. My braids were almost two months old and this morning I had to use a lot of gel to neaten it. This lady seemed like she had her hair done every two weeks.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, ma. If you are not in a hurry, would you like to wait for another thirty minutes to be interviewed?” She said as she came back into the reception with no file in sight. I was pleasantly surprised.
I looked at the clock. It was twelve thirty. If they kept to time, by two o’clock I should be out and by three o’ clock I could be home.
“No no. I am not in a hurry, ma. I would definitely wait. Thank you.”
“That’s alright then.” She said as she sat down and got back to her work.
