MOODY MONDAY | AN ESSAY
That’s Why Fiction!
A place I once loved
I’ve liked some of the places I’ve been at, you know? But I'm struggling to remember a place I've loved.
You see my family moved around a lot, home was different houses. The childhood home I grew up in, where some of my memories have been lost to time, even that I never loved. It represents pain. But that's another story.
When my mother left my dad, we moved into a nice three-bedroom apartment, but even that didn't do. I always hid in the ceiling, finding the cold dark place friendlier than down at the house.
A few years later, due to my mother's career as a government worker, she got transferred to a further location, and she couldn’t leave us behind. The government gave us a one-bedroom flat at the school, where she worked as a vice principal. Frankly, the house could have been better, one bedroom for a woman and three kids? But I mean, free rent, right? Notwithstanding, I managed to run away from home three times until I finally started living somewhere else. I eventually went back home, and not long after we had to move again…
The apartment issued to my mother was to be broken down as a reconstruction was needed, an unfortunate event. At the time, it left us stranded. The government didn't pay my mother any settlement as neither the land nor house belonged to her. We were only given a notice to up and leave.
One of my mother's friends back then, I can hardly recall his face — offered her a room in his big apartment not too far from where we stayed. So my family and I packed all our belongings and claimed a space we barely fit in. My elder sister knew nothing of this, as at the time she was already off at college in Enugu state, where I was to later join her.
After a few days of living in that clumped space, I found the river beside it my go-to. I'd soak myself for hours in there until my mama would come scolding, “It was getting late”. I always came out with a fever, but it didn't matter. The heat in our room would warm me up no problem. Thankfully it wasn't long before we moved again, this time into a studio flat.
We took three studio apartments two concurrent, mama made a door. One opposite, and guess who got that room all to herself. But neither the privacy nor the devious acts I was up to in there brought me true joy. And then finally, I went to Enugu State for College.
College was a breeze, although, at the time, it didn't feel like it. I think I had the most fun at the university. Of course, I was up to no good and I didn't do any studying (those four years hold my deepest regrets), but I did have fun. The fast life, the partying, the fake friends, the hotel rooms. I had no idea real life sucked. Perhaps if I did, I would have focused on making money back then, when things were easier.
After college, National Youth Service Corps, standard Nigerian protocol. And that would have been fun except, the COVID struck, locking us up for over 6 months!! Once again, I was stuck. I did have fun, but I was stuck. The remaining 6 months of NYSC went by too fast, and that sucked. I did enjoy wearing that uniform.
The next two years of my life after NYSC was absolute hell. I moved around a lot trying to find where I belonged as a graduate in the country now. I couldn't get any jobs, they always hinted at my preferred dressing style. In those two years, I managed to get addicted to drugs and well do a lot of things I have not been proud of.
Last year my life turned around, I rented my own space and moved in with my girlfriend. I love her, but I haven't loved the places we've lived. Not at Illabuchi with her, nor at Eliparanwo with me, and definitely not here, where we currently reside. I have big plans to get a better apartment. I only need to write some more to achieve that.
This is a moody essay alright, but I cannot think for my life about a place I once loved. However, Bella, my thoughts would be the only place I’ve ever been in and loved. There I get to be anything. To wish anything.
That's why fiction! Away from this crappy life.
