We might, hold a few memories soon enough, who knows. “I mean, what we are currently going through is called what?” I asked as I furiously tried to get the dye streaming out of my hair rapidly, back in, on this sunny Sunday afternoon.
I sat and tried to reassure myself on things that might be triggering for me and remembering the promises I made to myself, this might be a dangerous thought I am currently fueling. I stare at the amount of dye that has washed off and begin to laugh. Oh well, might as well let it go.
It has been months since I last wrote to you, and yet no word from you. Since I am generous in nature, I would not hold it against you, I’d rather tell you about what has been up with me lately, and why I let you go for what I’d call a decade in the writing world.
“Park your car right there and come down”. I immediately look up and the smile on my face faded as the lady behind me wakes up with a start. Standing in uniform with dirty, stoned red eyes, she looked both hungry and angry and with rifle in hand, I began to panic.
As we pulled over, our driver and I exchanged glances and we could sense rising fear, but no one was willing to admit. Right before he bent to pull his license out, before she even asked, we were beginning to feel confident. She glanced at the license very quickly and immediately we could read her hunger for more control.
“Where are your car papers?”
I started scrambling for the glove box, hoping to get the papers, after all, car papers belong in the glove box. And as soon as I handed the documents to her, I knew I had caught her second wind. Coupled with aggression and satisfaction, she hurriedly flung our papers back at us, saying in pidgin English, “This one don expire.
My panic level began to rise and I immediately called my sister to narrate our ordeal as she began to send me the soft copy of the car documents. I hurriedly showed those to this officer, who despite the scorching sun, could not be bothered, as she demanded vehemently for a hard copy. I was beginning to get agitated, and so was Esther, the other lady in the car with us, and Mr. Kingsley, our driver.
After so many back and forth my love, we eventually decided to go get a print out. We walked quite a distance in the streets of “Oshodi, Lagos” under the scorching sun in search of a photocopy or laminating shop.
After so many “madam buy cloth, madam buy shoe”, we eventually found one, and might have even transferred a bit of the anger at the young lady who was only trying to do her job while flirting with a man, old enough to be her father without realizing what was at stake here.
“Not like it was any of her business though.”
Eventually, we got our papers, printed and hurried back to the point where our car was parked, to avoid any delays, after all, we still had so many journeys ahead. On getting back to the officer, we met an bigger shock. This woman asked us for another car document that was not even relevant.
At this point, the anger we were trying to manage, already skyrocketed into another division. The only valid question to ask then was?
“Why?”
“Why did you not ask for all at once?”
“How is this even relevant to this issue at hand?”
The atmosphere changed immediately. If you randomly walked into us, you would sense the tension. “But we went the first time, why didn’t you indulge us?” We could have printed both. She began to walk away, pretending to be deaf.
“But I told you!” With glaring eyes, she turned and affirmed. She started to walk away again. This time, there was frustration, anger and impatience. I hissed. She finally found something to hold on to. Another round of argument started. From me trying not to look scared, to explaining to her that, it was done out of frustration.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I am bigger than you everywhere!”
The go-to, typical, default Nigerian affirmation. “Ma’am, it’s 2023. Who still uses that line?” I asked with so much sarcasm. “Moreover, you’re bigger than me, in this Tinubu’s regime? I am very happy for you.” I muffled under my breath. Because in actual reality, you don’t know what God has done for you.
After a lot of back and forth, we asked for her name. An obvious tag on her shirt. I walked over to her, to read it out to my agitated sister over the phone. She sassily tossed it closer for us to see. But I saw right through her. It was hilarious. Her fear gave me an edge. Confidence. Boosted my moral.
With dirty looks in our eyes, Esther and I went back to get our papers printed. A second time. Just different papers this time. But before we could even get to the photocopy shop a second time, Mr. Kingsley called to inform us that she has let us go. Wonderful.
While he waited for us in traffic, we were still stunned and heaven knows, she got lucky because I cannot put in words exactly the back and forth, but the matter already escalated to the stage of calling a senior officer in the force. But she got lucky.
We eventually moved and even though we were delayed, we got to our destinations. But for one surviving in this country, things could have taken a very different turn. Nevertheless, it was a good day. Looking back now, I laugh a lot, when I remember the turn of events that day.
As to why I have been MIA on my writing platform, In all honesty, I just decided to stay away, and take a break from web creative writing. It was beginning to feel like all my life was on here, but hey, that’s what a writer signs up for.
Also, consistently staying on the internet is very demanding and can be exhausting. Rather, take a break and do that beautiful thing you love.
I have been doing very little things that makes me very happy these days, making my hair, wearing my favorite fits, buying those shoes, fixing my nails and so on. Because nobody would do them for you.
The little things matter. Time is not on your side. It is either now or never. Do what makes you happy even if it defies the law. Document your life. Dress up and take pictures. Go out more. Be more intentional about yourself and have fun. You’re aging.
FROM MY DESK: MORENIKEJI A. ODEBIYI
Shade Odebiyi's Creatives. 
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