By Sophie Adrian
“All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players… “
Life is a playing ground; a trap, a beautiful adventurous plain; a dark tunnel with no end and if there is any, not a beautiful one I know. I looked down over the wooden cot housing the most beautiful thing I have seen in a while; I could look into those eyes forever and never feel weary, the small hand encompassing my finger send beautiful feelings down my body, like sitting in a bath tub filled with scented water, cold milky chocolate running down my face, zero worries of what was, what is or what will be. I wanted to be there forever, never wanted that feeling to end, wanted to be in that earthly heaven forever but that was not meant to be as the baby stirred , probably afraid of the old, bulgy, cranky and fatigued eyes looking into hers; she opened the little opening in her head and let out a shrilling sound that startled me out of my meaningless daydream into reality and I wondered if the baby knew fear or I was just too ugly that the child feel so irritated and insulted to be held by me. The mother walked in when I was walking out. She hurried to the cot and looked down on the baby. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Adrian, what did you do the poor girl?” She kept on talking but I was gone.
I stepped outside the house and walked across the streets taking in the beautiful views of the architectural manipulations we humans call houses. Different faces as I walked down the street; the happy and mostly the sad and somewhat hopeless faces just like mine whose part in the “great plan” just like Ophelia in Hamlet is meant to grow through pains upon pains and finally ending on a short note. I closed my eyes to shut the tears in and wish things were different, I wish I was not this but several others; I wish things were better and I could smile freely and let the wind kiss and play on my face and hair like it does to everybody. I wanted to be carefree, live without fear, love helplessly and ceaselessly, make memories with people, make people smile but all these were not meant to be or maybe I missed it somehow and I’m now a right part in the wrong place. Whichever way it was, my life was not the way I always dreamt; my life was a living nightmare. I’m lonely, no lover I could rightly say is mine. I cannot smile freely, I am afraid of things I do not know and above all, my life is meaningless, utterly meaningless. I am not living my dream, no passion, no drive, NO LIFE.
What my dad said over the phone the week before I traveled down to Gemma’s place came running back as I was making a heartbreaking, messy analysis of my life. “Good afternoon sir” I greeted him heartily over the phone. “How’re you? Hope you’re good” “I’m very good sir. What about you?” “I’m very good too, How’s studies, Do you still have money on you?” “Ye…es, ehhnnn, no, eh…hhn…not really, I’m managing but you’ll have to send me money for transport fare ” ” Okay, no problem, I should do that next week Tuesday” he said. We talked and talked – about Gemma, the baby, when I would come home – and out of the blues he asked “You’re on first class, right?” Whatever made him ask that is not my problem but how smoothly it came startled me and I paused before I stuttered a sickened deceitful YES. If he noticed or not, I do not know but we did our goodbyes and the call ended. I smiled wearily, and I closed my eyes to reminiscing the days when I thought life would be a bed of roses, of Oreos and ice creams, of days of running and jumping down the streets in happiness. I have known pain as far back as I can remember but it was not as intensifying as what I felt growing older, not as bad and wrecking as what I am feeling in the deepest deep of my soul now, where no one can reach nor can I explain to any being. I wish I could end all these and my soul and body should just go to rest but the tears of disappointment and pains that would fall from my parents face kept me in check and restrained me from doing any of the something stupid that has been on my mind for the last three years. A voice calling me jolted me out of my reverie. It was Gemma, she has been looking for me I guess. I stood up from I had sat and dusted my cloth and walked over to her. “Adrian, are you sure you’re fine?” she inquired. I kept mute and walked back with her to the house. Gemma kept talking but I was not listening. I walked into the guest room I was sharing with her mother-in-law and laid on the bed, staring into the ceiling and wishing things were different for the umpteenth time, I wish I could go back and change things even if it was a little but I knew the stars that govern our conditions are out of our control. The pain inside surged in me and before you could say Jack, the pain found an escape route in my eyes.
Back to the start, I was Adrian, the second child in the family of two kids. My parents were civil servants and had good pays. I was a 200 level student of the department of English Education in the University of Ibadan with a 2.48 CGPA in a 4.0 CGPA system. Well, growing up was little fun as much I could remember and if it was real fun, I could not remember because the travails and pains flowing through my veins in place of blood had restricted and overtaken my thinking, and everything I could remember had a touch of pain- psychological, emotional, physical. Everything started when I started noticing my mum liked my sister, Gemma than she did me and at the slightest opportunity she body shamed me, saying almost everytime that I look like and took after my dad’s ugly sister that she hated. That was the beginning of it all and I would lock myself up in the room and cry myself to sleep. Schooling was much fun than home but I never had friends because my parents never had and that helped in further marring my life. As far back as I could picture, I never fell short of being in the first position from my primary school up till when I was in the Senior Secondary School two; even at that, I had one of the best results in my secondary school for my school leaving certificate exams.
I always wanted to study Law because I saw the ills in the society and I felt I was born to right some, if not all the wrongs. The desire was so pure that my ears and mind were deafen to the talks of my teachers in school. “Adrian, there are lawyers on the street with good certificate and worn out shoes. Gone are the days of building a career in Law”. A teacher said. “Come to the sciences department, you can build any career you want to there. Arts department is really limited in scope”. Talks upon talks but the most evergreen in my mind was when one of them pointedly told me “You’ll regret this”. True to that, the regrets flooding my heart then would destroy a city if it came in form of water. The first JAMB examination I did was when I was just 15 and I was so full of life, but I could not secure admission into the Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife to study Law. I was 20 points short and that almost kill me, not greatly because I did not have the admission but because I had already lied to a lot that I already had admission to the University. After things did not go as planned, I had to escape from questionings and disappointed, enquiring eyes. That opened the most painful part of the appalling story of my life.
I lived with a family that changed me forever; the sadness flew in, self-esteem crept out and my belief in God wavered. Sometimes, I wondered if I was just too gullible or I trusted a lot but whichever way it was, was the most hated part of me. I lived with the family of the Okusagas for almost a year before I reached my breaking point and I gave way. I should have noticed and fled when he was making advances towards me whenever we were alone but I took it as a pastime and flowed with the moment. Later, I got to know he was a “christian”, a “shepherd” at that and things started breaking when I refused to give in to sex. I could remember his voice saying “let’s consummate this relationship…” or “let me help you, being a virgin at your age is not the best…” now. I was not really a Christian but I love God and I tried in my little way to please him. So, I broke away from him because I knew what I was doing was not all godly and karma, they say is real. Then, he started making lies against me to people and his wife, he saw mistakes in everything I did to the point of him saying I was possessed with an evil spirit and I was afflicting their home with it. I felt dejected, rejected, sad, and I questioned God. Who he is, how he sees things. Did he gave them the vision that I have an evil spirit or they came up with it?. Whatever it was, it is, I did not know and I am still lost till now. Living with them, the doubt of not making it as a lawyer became stronger, imaginations became realities, things got serious and before I could get a grip, I was given admission to study English education in the University of Ibadan.
“Adrian, where are you??” Gemma’s voice rang through my head. I had cried myself to sleep. I reluctantly stood up and on my way out, the clock ticked nine. I did not know how long I had slept but I was with no doubt that I had slept a great deal. I stretched and walked to Gemma’s bedroom where her voice came from. “Are you sure you’re fine?” she asked. “Have you been crying?” “Your face looks swollen”. “Yes, I’m fine.” I smiled and replied. She gave me an inquisitive look and nodded knowingly. “We will talk when you come back. Can you help me get diapers down the road?”. I nodded with a questioning look. She knowing what my looks meant replied that Mama used the last two diapers during the day. I stepped outside and walked down the street still going over my thoughts before I slept- my life, my journey, my future, my wishes and my unsure end. Before the twinkling of an eye, an oncoming car swerved to my side of the road and all I picked out now was a loud banging sound and a familiar smell; a knowing smell; a monthly smell; the smell of blood. Shout and screams kept multiplying, I kept falling into that endless tunnel and my head kept on clearing. I gave a long knowing smile because even if not all, a wish had come true. I knew that was the end; the turning point; my end; my exit.
