May 13th, 2013
I received Ebika’s ‘victory news’ with very mixed feelings. She called to tell me that Oyinkan has finally agreed to move to America…permanently. What was initially planned as a short-term trip, to give birth to her baby, has now become a permanent arrangement, with her relocating with her other kids…for good. As she squealed and rejoiced over this news, I could only manage a bit of polite laughter, as my heart was inexplicably heavy. It finally dawned on me that Oyinkan, a woman like me, and pregnant like me, is losing her marriage…her stability…at the worst possible time.
When the call was over, I couldn’t help but check Oyinkan’s Instagram page, and my heart crashed to my stomach, when I saw that, for the past week, she had only been posting very cryptic messages…of letting go, and moving on. Her most recent post had the silhouette of a woman walking on a beach, and she had captioned it; Sometimes, you have to know when to keep fighting…and when to walk away. #IChooseToBeHappy #ItsNotWorthIt #LivingForMyKids #ThanksForEverythingGuys #YouAreTheBest #IHaveTheBestFriends #TimeToMoveOnNow #ThatGoesForEveryone #NoMoreFighting #TheWarIsOver
Many of them were apparently privy to more information, and proceeded to console Oyinkan, assuring her of their friendship and support. But most of the general comments mauled Ebika to roadkill!!! The comments there were bloody…to say the very least! I pray she never gets to read them, as they will destroy her, thick skin or not. I was even shocked to read that some of them were even aware of Ebika’s gynaecological issues, and went on to call her a ‘barren bitch’! Na wa for social media! It absolutely isn’t for the faint hearted at all, at all!
But sorry as I was for Ebika, I found myself sorrier still for Oyinkan. It’s sad that one person’s ‘victory’ is inadvertently the other person’s loss. Looking at things dispassionately, Oyinkan is the actual victim in all this. She was sitting down, minding her own business, when Demola came to marry her, a young girl of 22, 23 years of age. Now, after 3 kids, and the 4th on the way, he decides he wants to be with his ‘true love’. She didn’t do anything to anybody, and doesn’t deserve this hand she has been dealt. And she is a lot nicer than many other women would have been in this instance, who would have taken their fight off Instagram a long time ago! She never even confronted Ebika physically.
Ah well. Ebika is my friend, and the one to whom I owe my allegiance, so I might as well stop crying over Oyinkan, and be happy for my friend. She’s back this weekend, and I’m so happy about that!
Getting home, I saw the lights in Nwando’s former apartment were on. Her sister moved in almost immediately after the wedding, two weeks ago, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to say hello. But today, I decided to knock and be a friendly neighbour, at least. Opening the door, I was surprised that it wasn’t the sister I’d thought it was. I thought it was her younger sister I’d met here before, but this lady standing in front of me is actually one of her older ones.
“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed.
I quickly had to compose myself, and laughed as well.
“My younger sister got an apartment in Obalende, closer to her office,” she clarified, before ushering me in, and introducing herself as Jide.
“Njideka!” she laughed, at my bewildered expression. “But everyone calls me Jide!”
As we chatted, my spirit soared to realize she has more of Nwando’s high spirited personality…not quite like the sister I’d met before, who seemed…well…rather dry. Jide, on the other hand, appears bubbly and full of life, just like my beloved Nwando.
“I thought Nwando said her older sisters live in Port Harcourt…” I said, still wondering how come she was here.
Jide shrugged. “My sister and I did live there…she still does. She has a good job with Shell, and things are working out for her. I just turned 40, and was doing some self assessment. I have been in Port Harcourt for over 10 years, and nothing has clicked for me…not with my career, or even a husband. Then an old friend pulled some strings to get me a job…but here in Lagos. Nothing was holding me in PH, so I decided to move here,” she laughed, “Besides, my sister found love in Lagos…so maybe I might as well!”
I laughed with her, not having the heart to remind her that Nwando had found love with an old boyfriend, and not with someone new. But looking at Jide, who is an even prettier version of Nwando, and who doesn’t look a day older than 30, something told me she wouldn’t have a problem in this regard.
Getting to my apartment, I plopped myself on the couch. I get tired a whole lot easier these days, and my bump is getting even more heavy to carry. But then again, it’s understandable, as I clock 30 weeks on Thursday. 30 weeks! Even writing it sounds surreal! 30 weeks! Wow!
In 10 weeks, or maybe even less, I will meet my little person!
I can hardly wait!!!