Hi, I'm Edna and I don't know what I'm doing

Nothing wrong with being weird

Two months from now, at the dinning table in my mother's house; I will sit in an uncomfortable position while I type a few words on my new phone (inshallah). "This year was the hardest year of my life, I am glad it's finally over" . I will go ahead to write a few more words , I will tell stories of how hard the year was for me, but I will forget to write about the soft side of it; because believe it or not, everyone loves a sad story.

Hi, my name is Edna and I have no idea what I am doing.

31st October, 2024

20:20pm.

I just took a very hot bath, I hoped the heat would burn my skin a little and wake me up, it didn't. It's the last day of October and I am writing again, I hate that this has become a monthly ritual for us, you and I. I stayed a bit longer in the bathroom, a bucket and water bowl doesn't count as a shower, does it? I desperately wanted a bath instead, I wanted to soak myself and remain still for 30 minutes, maybe 60. I wanted to dream a little, about a girl who knew what she wanted, a girl who led not followed, a girl who had a focus, a girl who could see. Little me would have liked this girl, she would have followed her through every lonely street of life; she would have wanted to be her, even if it was just for a day.

20:28pm.

They say our system is corrupt, that you never get what you want, even if you try; well, I never even tried. When I was younger, 11, maybe 12, I wanted to be a "psychotherapist" and that was because I watched a lot of movies about therapy . I loved how these therapist would sit for hours and listen to people talk and talk and talk and cry and talk some more, and then repeat the same thing the next week. But they eventually got better. I decided that the world needed a therapist and I was going to be one. But no school offered "Psychotherapy" as a course in Nigeria, the closest I could get was "Physiotherapy" and I hated sports and exercise. At this point, you should shake your head and say, "this girl no know wetin she dey do", you are not wrong. Wait a minute, let me google this....

I didn't find what I was looking for, but I should have thought of psychology, and not the Dentistry and Dental Surgery I applied for in my first JAMB, or the Nursing Science I applied for the next year or even the Microbiology I applied for, in the 3rd year. I ended up studying Biological Science.

20:47pm

We should all pick a day, sit and discuss the difficulty in figuring out what you want out of life. I wish people explained to us how the process works, what questions to ask and what our answers mean; just a headstart would be nice, thank you. But life doesn't work like that, and this is real life. "Mohamed Dry Cleaner" texted me again, I like that he calls me "aunty". I met him in camp one afternoon, he was waiting for a lady in front of my hostel; he said she had laundry for him but she wasn't picking up his calls and he wondered if I could help him find her. Okay pause! let me stretch a little.

I woke up feeling feverish this morning, but I'm better; thanks for asking. Now, back to the dry cleaner...

I told him I couldn't find her, I was bad with faces and I didn't have the energy to try. But I collected his number, just Incase. I don't think Mohamed wanted to be a dry cleaner when he was younger, Or work in the Mami Market in keffi camp, but life happened and here we are. We sometimes don't get what we want,and it doesn't matter if we work hard and hustle until our bones adjust to suffering, we just wouldn't get it. For some, it's a completely different story; and yes, privilege is a plus but you still need to work for it. I think the battle is with one's self, answering the difficult questions and then finding a balance.

I should text Mohammed back.

1st November, 2024

09:38am

Happy new month.

I think you are reading this letter and wondering what exactly is going on in my head, well the only time my thoughts are in order is when I am writing to you, you keep me in check *blushes a little.

And so, I like to think that my thoughts were not in order when I told my friend I wasn't going to get married early. (takes a short break to sing along to Dunsin Oyekan's Worthy of My Praise)

So let's take a few steps back, 5 or maybe 6 years ago, when life was easy for a 17 year old. My friend (let's call her Alice) came to visit, we were sitting on my bed, the bedsheet was dragging on the bare floor but we didn't even notice. We were talking about something I don't remember, maybe a classmate from school, or a boy; we always talked about boys. "Alice, I don't think I want to marry early, maybe when I'm 27 or 28" I said in the thinnest voice I never thought was possible, they say the walls have ears so better to be safe. I turned to look at my friend, and regret formed a lump in my throat, I should have kept quiet.

I always knew I wasn't a normal girl, so 2 years later, when another friend was talking about her dream wedding, I wasn't surprised at my reaction; this time I kept my mouth shut, but my face did the talking. She could picture her sendforth prayer, how the pastor would call her to the altar and she'd carefully walk her way through the congregation, how she would smile and wave at a few familiar faces, and when she gets to the altar, she would kneel and scream Amen at the top of her lungs while the pastor prayed. I thought she was weird. Thinking back now, she was only being a girl, an ideal girl child who had the perfect picture of her dream wedding, and I was the weird one. You see, my family might have influenced me at first, like they did with my decision to serve here in Abuja, but that's story for another day. I am older now, and I still don't fancy early marriage. I don't have a picture of my dream wedding, I doubt I'll even wear a white dress or that a pastor will be present, I doubt if there will be guests present, or if there will be a wedding at all, but we'll see.

10:24am

that we move on after death

Not us, but the dead

To nothingness, if paradise doesn't exist

But us, not the dead

To marry, to grow, to live

that life goes on and on

While the dead watch their flesh decay

And our hearts turn to fossils

We stop to water us,

We remember to let grief grow

But we stop

We save our hearts

We live again

that life must go on

After death, loss, after failure

We must wake up,

Fight the decay,

Dead plants can live again,

Us, live, life.

_Ed