2013

Happy New Year, guys! I wish every one a beautiful year filled with love, peace and joy.

I didn’t post a review of my year, but my dear friend, Valerie sent this to me and it brought tears to my eyes. She’s given me the go-ahead to share it. Please read and enjoy.
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” I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die…”

“You know we are going to have a great year together, yes?”

That’s how my year started. A call from my lover at 5AM, telling me how we were going to have a beautiful year together, praying for me, for us. Me, teary eyed and full of love, joy and hope. Me, happy. It was going to be a great year. My best.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

“Sometimes when I close my eyes, I pretend, but it’s never enough.”

“I am here, let me share your pain. I love you.”

Again, bullshit. Bullshit. Just bullshit.

It’s funny how the depression started so early on in the year. Probably second week.

Nothing was wrong. I was happy. I couldn’t understand.

I felt like there was a black hole pulling me in, deeper and deeper and I fought and fought, but I lost.

I made a decision to lose weight on the 1st of January. Along with my decision to improve my body, and love it.

So I started working out and dieting on the 7th.

I assumed my depression and mood swings were as a result of the changes going on in ny body and my body’s adaptation. I was wrong.

“Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground… It’s always darkest before the dawn. I am done with my graceless heart, tonight I’m cut it out and then restart… It’s hard to dance, with the devil on your back, so shake him off.”

Fuck depression. Fuck sadness. I had lost 13kg and I was on a roll.

The love of my life and I were in a good place, a. great place, it was perfect. We were perfect.

New body, perfect heart.

“Something in the way you move, makes me feel like I can’t live without you, it takes me all the way, I want you to stay… The reason I hold on, cause I need this hole gone.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if you left. I can’t process life without you.”

My boo. The One. The love of my life. I was his Ayanfe. Athena. His Fatima from The Alchemist.
Something was wrong and I couldn’t understand it. Something was wrong. Something was really really wrong. But we had promised eachother for better, for yes. I had found happiness and I wasn’t letting it go, letting him go. He was my forever and I was going to keep it that way.

So through the fights and the emptiness and the loneliness I fought, I fought with everything.

And then results came. 3.96. I had never gotten a 3 point before, except once. 100 level first semester. How was I going to get that 1st class with that kind of result? I wept.

“I’ve been ignoring this, big lump in my throat, I shouldn’t be crying, tears were for weaker days, I’m stronger now, or so I say but something’s missing… And I just wanna scream, What not?”

Bigger problems. Bigger fights.

Did I make a mistake? What was going on?
Maybe it was all in my head. Grasping at the straws.

But this was my forever. Nothing good is easy. I had to put in the work. Work. Work. Work.

And I wasn’t losing weight anymore. I had plateaued. I stopped working out. Plateau all round.

Finals had come and I was excited, and slightly nervous. I could still get that 1st class. I just needed to make a 4.8 or something. And I could do it. I knew I could.

First paper was Econometrics. I was prepared.

They sharef question papers and I looked at the paper and I was blank.
But I had practised all the tutorial questions. I had.

“Jesus. Jesus. Save me.”

“The Lord is my strength and my anchor.”

I prayed and prayed. The almight was not going to desert me. Never.

So I wrote. I just wrote. Till today, I believe that God wrote that paper because I came out of the hall and I couldn’t remember anything I had written.
But God had me.

The rest of my exams were wonderful. Even Macroeconomics that was a thorn in my side. Finals had been a breeze. The Lord had been kind.

Meanwhile, end of June and I hadn’t started my project. I had been given time, too much time.
What was I doing? Nothing. Just nothing.

The devil was working in my life overtime. And I was my devil.

1st of July, I had started my project. By the 15th, I had finished, printed and defended. God is good.

I don’t know how it was possible, but I did it.
Maybe it was because my supervisor came to school everyday, for me(well and her other supervisee, but yeah)

May God bless her abundantly. She gave me materials, she worked almost as hard as I did. I finished. She was tremendously impressed.

I aced it. The Lord was kind.

“I guess it’s funnier from where you’re standing. ‘Cause from over here I missed the joke, clear the way for my crashlanding. I’ve done it again, another number for your notes.”

“Your lover is my lover too.”

“And mine.”

“And mine”

“Mine too.”

My special love had ended. I was just another one of them. His women.

I was… broken to say the least. Shattered.
Although, I have to admit, not as broken as I thought I’d be.
But it hurt. A lot. Too much. I was torn. And my heart tore more with each piece of the puzzle I found.
2+2 was really equal to 4.
All my doubts, my fears, all true.
My reality was worse than my worst, wildest, most exaggerated imagination.

My Love. The One. Lucifer. Solomon. Pied Piper. Predator. Heart hurter. Mr Jar of hearts. And he wasn’t going to stop with me.

I think the part that hurt the most was the being ignored part. Being treated like I didn’t happen.

“When you’re dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part.”

“1 in 1 is 1”

Lol. Well, 1 in 1 wasn’t 1 anymore. Apparently 1 in 1 was at least 7.

Or maybe that was the wrong equation; 1 in countless, more like. Mister man for all the gyals them.

And Mayer lied. The waking up, the sleeping, thinking, even the breathing. They were all the hardest part.

“Forget the records, off the record, I was going through some bullshit.”

My heart was hurting, but I wasn’t about to hate my heart and hate my body too. So I worked out.

Les Mills, yoga, Black Girls work out too, Hip hop abs, I did it all.

And I read. I read well. I asked everybody I knew for for books.

And then results came out. GP: 4.56 CGP: 4.3. No 1st class.

That sucked.

My birthday came and I had the best birthday I have ever had. It was the best day. I spent it with one of the best women I know. I got the best gifts. So many people made me feel loved. And I got a cake. Caakkkeee! The last time I got a cake was when I was 16, plus, I had never gotten a cake from anyone who wasn’t my mum or my dad. I was sooo happy.

Then convocation. A whole week of festivities, which were really underwhelming to be honest. The only things of note were the facts that Goodluck Jonathan came, Obasanjo was there and a sprinkling of governors. But even that isn’t all that because they didn’t give us jobs (or money). They could have done it please. We were just 116.

Anyway… I got the degree. Second class (Upper Division) B. Sc Economics, Afe Babalola University.

And NYSC. I got Abuja. As expected.

But you see, that wasn’t the plan. It was Lagos in my mind. Service year was going to be spent in Lagos. But other plans had been made for me.
I was sad initially, but I mean… Abuja is convenient.

So all is well that kind of ends well, yes?

“Nzogbu, enyimba enyi… ”

Camp was awesome. Ignore the part where we had to run with our boxes on our heads and sit on the floor. It was Aweesome. I met the coolest people. Service year isn’t going to be bad at all.

I got posted to FCTA.
Department of Economic planning, research and statistics.
Lucky, lucky me.

A part of me was a little disappointed. I wanted to teach. I think. But I will get to. Eventually. In some fancy university in France, when I get that Phd.

I lost a lot weight, Got closer to my dream body. I am not where I want to be yet. But I am getting there.

I can’t talk about my year without talking about my friends. Beautiful people all of them, and for them I am truly grateful. I have the best friends, the very best. You have made my life better by being in it. Thank you.

And for Olukanyinsola and Inem, because they deserve a group of their own.

Ebos, because through the drama that the year brought, at the end of the day, we are still here.

And Uche, because this year wouldn’t have been this year without her.

2013 was my best year yet. I laughed more than I cried. I am the healthiest and the prettiest I have ever been. I grew a lot. Learnt so much, two of the most difficult lessons being;

– The world won’t stop because of your pain.

– People will hurt you and they won’t ask for forgivenss, and they won’t be sorry either. Forgive them anyway. For you, because you deserve to have peace.

I go into the new year with renewed hope. Love, joy and peace.
Surely not everything went my way, but a lot did.

And the Lord surpassed my expectations. It fills me with great joy to know that this year will be even better.

The Lord remains my strength and my anchor, for he who dwells in the shelter of the most high shall abide under the shadows of the almighty.

Nene.