I’m Asari (Episode 28): Rules Don’t Care About Us

I used to think that life is or was supposed to be straight forward; all I had to do was follow the rules, rules set by the society. I thought that if I followed the rules of going to school and facing my studies, I was going to get my dream job.

I thought that if I followed the rules of being a decent girl who held high her female pride; I was going to meet my prince charming and live happily ever after and nothing in the world was going to come between us

I thought that if I followed all the rules including that of doing to others as I wanted done unto me; nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen to me. Nothing dramatic enough to threaten my reputation and that of my family was ever going to happen. But you see something… rules don’t matter and nobody has a gaad damn clue.

I know that I haven’t talked about Abdul in a while and that is because it is just too painful to talk about; I mean, I had a shot… we had a shot to be together but I blew it because I was jealous and I couldn’t control my emotions. Nothing is more painful… actually there is something more painful but right now nothing is more painful than losing the love of your life before getting a chance to even be together.

Abdul and I haven’t spoken in a while and day by day I am getting used to the idea that he is not and will never be in my life. The days of crying are over and the days of pining are almost over; it’s because of the pining that I challenged myself to follow the first rule of getting over a heartbreak which is working towards achieving your goals. What was my goal? To become a T.V host. But instead of doing that, I got a job hosting a pool party and that led me into one of the most uncontrollable situations ever.

“Madam, the last thing I want is drama; I just don’t want the press to make my life and that of my family difficult” it was a plea to the minister of women affairs to stop but she did not adhere. You know what she told me? She told me to man up and stop acting like a pussy. We were on our way to the office of the first lady and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“There are many rules on how and what a woman should be like but you have failed yourself if you let fear stop you from making the smallest impact you can make” this was something my mother always told me and I held on to it like a bag full of money. My mother was not with me this time but her words were. “We are here, don’t be afraid… the first lady is a very nice woman. Come on” the minister said to me as she got out of the car beckoning at me to follow suit.

Our meeting with the first lady was quicker and less nerve-wracking than I thought; I told her my story and she proceeded to call the minister of F.C.T and within an hour Mr. Adesiji was in police custody. I wondered if it was police custody as in ‘arrest’ or ‘for questioning’ but I couldn’t ask; who was I to question the first lady of the Nigerian Republic?

The Minister of F.C.T also found himself apologizing profusely to the Minister of Women Affairs for not co-operating with her in the first place “as long as we get justice, justice for our young women is all that matters” was her reply and it touched me because it meant that she wasn’t doing this for the sake of power tussle or to prove anything; it actually meant that she cared about this, she cared about ending the abuse of young women in Nigeria. My respect for her reached new heights.

The minister told the first lady that I was scared of being famous because of this; the first lady looked at me and said “you want to be a T.V host, aren’t television hosts famous? Are you truly scared of being famous or you are scared of being judged?” her question hit me like a ton of bricks… such a discerning woman.

I confessed that indeed I was scared of being judged and her next words to me were like fifteen tons bricks “People will always judge you, even if you are a saint living in a cave far far away” and there you have it; words from a very intelligent woman… the First Lady of the Republic of Nigeria. It was an honour.

On our way back, the minister showed me a tweet put out by the first lady in support for what we were doing “I told you that she is a very nice woman” she said and I nodded opening my own twitter app to read the tweet properly.

As I opened my twitter application, I was immediately distracted by a picture of Abdul and Kate with the caption “Congratulation on your engagement bro” My heart went into my throat and pressed my windpipe. I couldn’t breathe… I couldn’t talk and I couldn’t even hear anything the minister was saying to me. The only thing I could do was stare at that picture and the caption beneath it.

Back to top button
EveryEvery We would like to show you notifications for the latest news and updates.
Allow Notifications