Sixteen, her hair was woven without artificial hang-ons or tails, her skirts well below her knees. She had known from home that she would change. That is what people called it ‘change’ but she knew
Sixteen, her hair was woven without artificial hang-ons or tails, her skirts well below her knees. She had known from home that she would change. That is what people called it ‘change’ but she knew it is better called improvement or upgrade which is bound to occur in computers and humans especially. In second year, she began to wear skirts right on her knees and short sleeves. It fitted better, after all she was chubby. Long-sleeves clothes hid her soft brown fresh skin. Damiete was not only wearing trousers in year three, she had already known how to twerk, although her butt did not bounce at ease like that of her friends. Her first win over her parents was having an allowance to stay in the hostel from year two. She had argued with them for a while and like a judge on duty counted and recounted so many advantages of leaving home that are obvious especially not consuming too much salad. At home, she might turn out too fat despite the school stress. She ate voraciously.
Her younger sister winked mockery at her as their parents spread their advice all over her for two hours before letting her drag her box into the hostel. She had brought her buckets and others before then. Her friends were happier for the freedom. On campus, she still attended Deeper Life with one of her friends Florence who shared same church with her. She was more relieved and alive in school and she enjoyed her tricks of wearing sleeveless in school but with a jacket or blazer in her bag that she quickly wore in the taxi whenever she was travelling home. No matter the tenets of her church or ways of her parents, Damiete felt that it was her life and she must soar. If she could offer money to greedy lecturer for best grades, why couldn’t she be versatile with clothes? They were all sins. She didn’t mean to disregard the case of ‘emulation’ in Galatians 5:20 yet she felt unapologetic by reassuring herself that all these improvements were all about her.
When she had Johnny for a boyfriend in her third year, it was still her decision to remain chaste with him till they did it on the night of her last exam in her final year. That was the longest two young raving hormones could wait. Johnny had graduated two years after her and began to acquire shoe making dexterity after his National Youth Service. After her graduation, they began to make plans on how to pull resources together. She got more money than him even if she wasn’t working. Her father was very buoyant. One day, Johnny suggested they open a joint account. Suddenly, she felt unguarded and misplaced. A joint account of all their money. Despite their few squabbles in the relationship, she still believed they would end up married. Johnny had even jokingly asked her to marry him once on the lively event of her 20th birthday.
After a good thought about it and little advice from her friends, she declined the suggestion out rightly. She didn’t know how that had worked into evil. Johnny didn’t call till evening the next day and when she panicked, he mentioned her not trusting him. Damiete thought it would have been wiser for him to have asked himself if he ever trusted her. A woman can also be phony. Next week, in the heat of their argument in his apartment, the parachute that held him finally went off. He had voiced, ‘you are strong-headed with your sorry strong ass, Gift was really right that you will never want to be with me.’
Gift. Gift was the ex-girlfriend he had told her about three years ago. They still spoke? Of deep things too? And she didn’t know. That was not even too huge, he called her strong ass. Men should better joke with their wives’ weaknesses before spilling them out while quarrelling. This particular jab hurt her. He had known that her butt was not that soft yet he acted so well about it even when they made love. That meant pretence. He could have teased her about it all these while, a lover’s mockery could have been better than opprobrium. He could have been her friend, best friend, chatty-insult-pouring friends that laugh so hard. Damiete felt very apprehensive and defenseless, she knew how beautiful her eyes were, her face, her breasts were full, her butt a little masculine with sturdy legs. The body-insecurity of a 21-year-old-girl crashed into her head and fetched her wrath. Throwing it up on her face like that made their break-up negatively epic. She left his apartment and called Dave.
Also read IJIJI, an epic Story