#ItallboilsdowntoFAMILY

Image

So I got a call yesterday from the shipping company. The words “must”, “charges” and “auction” were mentioned. Nothing moves a winter couch potato off the couch like “charges”. I headed downtown despite the snow storm alerts and freezing temperatures. Baby C was asleep and it seemed like the perfect time to slip away. I ended up meeting two interesting people though in my phone they are stored as one person, PierceMaryam. We got talking about business in Africa, expired licences, the million ills of shipping products to Nigeria, clearing them and actually receiving them untouched(untouched as in complete and not missing one or two things)

Maryam’s from Botswana by the way.

Talked about limited partnerships and bank loans. They were the most unlikely conversations between complete strangers. Anyway I couldn’t help myself, I just had to ask why they stored their names as one person on my phone.

Are you married, I ask them. Straight faces and all, they shake their heads.

Ummmm, I’m thinking to myself.

Dating? Nope they reply. The small smiles on their faces keep me going. It’s not so hard to shut me down when i start sniffing but smiling has never worked. 

O.K then. Do you guys live together? Another head shake. 

I swore to change this year. You would think it would be easy after I asked someone if she had children and her answer was

“Yes, I have two dogs.”

And she was serious. Like no sarcasm or anything. That’s a story for another day though.

Anyway, turns out PierceMaryam have dated before, have bunked together before but are now in limbo. I couldn’t help myself. Duh. that’s like the last thing you want to tell a StoryHound like me.

That you dated and you bunked and now you walk around cool as a Cumberbatch and have a solo phone name?

Lawds!

Anyway we are walking a few blocks when Pierce tells me that he will marry Maryam someday. Someday when everything falls into place and he’s running his own business and not living from paycheck to paycheck.

Someday (for money reasons) sounds really weird when it’s not coming from a Nigerian guy. I turn to Maryam to see what she has to say about it. 

“He gave me a diamond ring” She blurts out.

Wow. Diamonds huh? And you said no? I ask in disbelief. (I’m no stranger to the American woman’s fascination with ‘rocks’

It was a used ring, she continues.

I nod, contemplating the dynamics of a used ring. I envision something large and gaudy and old.

Did he give it to his last fiancee. I ask. Like did she wear it for a while then throw it at him like in the movies?

No. Maryam tells me. Blessed patient lady that she is. I would have looked for the next liquor shop and bought a drink.

I need prayers. It took me about four hours stewing over it at home before it came to me. I guess every woman wants a new and shiny ring. A clean slate. Karl lagerfield would send us some vintage dress and we would swoon and wear it even if it was made out of porcupine quills yet we won’t take a used ring.

No judgments though. 

Pierce I said, perhaps you should just buy something small. Something cheap until you can afford what she wants.

If he was my brother I would have suggested that he present the ring as a family heirloom. Our father’s mother got it from her best friend’s husband when he took her as a mistress and she gave it to our mother who then….

He is wearing a long-suffering smile. “Then what will her family say?” Pierce asks me.

It always comes down to family doesn’t it.

Even when we tell the world that we are on our own, making it ourselves, Yada yada.

It always comes down to Family…and new shiny bright things.

 

Lest I be accused of New Year Cheerlessness,

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO MY DEAR READERS.

I’m just glad to be past Christmas. The texts that come pouring in wishing me the joys of christmas like pressing buttons could actually fetch me those Joys! I imagined posting something on my FB page like “This individual does not believe in Christmas and will not appreciate your messages”

All that tinsel makes me nauseous and just reminds me that Christmas as an adult is nothing compared to the Christmas me that ran around our Lagos Estate, with ‘Bangers’ in my hand and anticipating Fried Rice!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s