Because, It's you.

CHAPTER ONE

How do we know the ones we love,

when betrayal stares us in the face?

How do we erase the ones we lost,

when we can’t tell what’s fake?

©Ouwatoyosi

9 years ago

Standing in front of these huge doors, I battled within myself whether I should enter or not. My heart was heavy as I looked at the little girl in my arms and I just want to let it out. I wanted to be strong or at least pretend to be so I can get through this but my tears had a mind of its own as it keeps threatening to fall. My black hoodie was protecting me from the cold I was feeling inside and out. Taking a huge whiff of breath, I entered into the church. It was empty, except for the light in the inner room showing that someone was around, probably the pastor. I took my seat at the back as I just stared at the cross on the wall while cradling my sleeping little one.

“Why?” my lips finally move as it was the only thing I could utter. I just couldn’t understand why these kinds of things happen, why I have to be a part of it but mostly why was I born.

“I really don’t understand.” I say again, my tears were threatening to fall as I stared hard at the cross on the wall. My mind was a jumbled mess and I couldn’t get my head straight. I always knew this was bound to happen but I never knew I would have such a hard time accepting the fact that bothered me ever since I could understand the words that came out of an adult’s lip. My lips quivered as my tears fell, I put my hand on my chest to try and ease my breathing as I was alone and didn’t want to cause a noise but it didn’t seem to work. I sobbed harder trying to grasp my situation as it is making my sobs louder as it filled the whole church.

“People say you can make things happen. They say you give peace and help to those who need it, please give me some of that peace now” my sobs became even louder as I spoke to the cross. hoping God was at least hearing me.

“If you can hear me, please help me. help me know what to do next because I am lost” I wasn’t born a Christian, in fact my parents never believed and were seriously against it but my situation wasn’t one I found funny and I just needed to let it out.

“He hears you, you know” I jump at the voice and look back to see a man probably in his late 40’s looking back at me. He sees the baby in my arms and smiles with compassion, at least that’s what I think it is.

“God always listens to those who call out to him for help and he always helps them” he said to me softly while looking at the cross. My head hung low as the tears were making their way back to my eyes.

“Will he help me?” I couldn’t help but ask, I was desperate and in need of understanding.

“He always does, however it may not be in the way you expect or want but everything comes together in the long run that is why we must be patient.” My sobs break out because I didn’t think I had the time to wait long. I was in need of help, immediate help. I felt a hand on my shoulder making me stop crying for a moment.

“Let it out. It is always best to tell him exactly how you feel even though he already knows. He has already begun the process of helping you, you just need to open your eyes and heart to see and understand what he has set up for you. It is always hard to believe what you cannot see, but that’s what brings hope and strength to keep going” He says, patting my back reassuringly, and I did just that, I let everything out.

The loud noise of the hall brings me out of my memories. I quickly packed up my things as the lecture was over.

“Finally, I thought the lecturer wanted to use overtime, I would have fainted from boredom” Praise said while putting her hands on her head in frustration, while I just had a little sad smile on my face. My memories were not always one to be proud of but they never leave me. No, instead, it’s like I keep having a replay every single time and it’s exhausting.

“Where did this school get their lecturers from? Even the project assignment he gave us was too complicated. I understand we are students, but seriously, this is too much”, she continues, before putting her head on the table. I shake my head at her antics, she always complains when it comes to trade union law and all I do is laugh it out because, even though the class is boring, we still have to face it, there is no use complaining. After her grunts and complaints, we finally stood up to leave.

My name is Mohammad Oluwadarasinmi Semiat. I am in my 5th year studying Law at Lagos State University and I’m 23 years old. I am a conservative person; I love doing things on my own because that’s how I have always lived and, because of that, I have just one true friend in the whole world. I was the type of person that always hid her pain behind a smile and even though I loved doing things on my own, I still try to lead a good life with a little fun even though I never have the time for it. I have been working as a fashion designer for 3 years, making it easy for me to settle my living expenses as well as school fees as my parents can’t do that for me, but we’ll get to why later.

“Are you not going for the HOD’s cup match, is everyone going?” Praise asked me for the third time today and she always knows my answer but she never wants to believe it. The HOD’s cup match is a football match that a department plays and it was our department’s turn today.

“No! You know I can’t, I have to go pick up Grace from school and go to work”, I answered her with a straight face. Grace was my ten-year old daughter, and I know it’s kind of weird, but with the life I had, nothing is impossible. We have been friends since our first year mainly because she was an extremely likeable person and, not to mention, she is the smartest person I’ve ever met. When Praise becomes serious, then it’s time for business. I learnt how to read at night because of her, but our personalities are slightly different and I think that’s why we get along. She is an extremely outgoing person who loves engaging in anything that will be productive as well as fun, while I don’t have time for fun basically because I have a child to look after and always had to work. Yes, I have a child. My life was never one of too many smiles. I have gone through a lot of pain that made me strive hard to be who I am today. Being married at the age of thirteen and having a child at fourteen woke me up to the reality that life was not a game but a serious business.

“You do know that Grace can come home by herself, right? She is a big girl and you are a big lady that needs to come out of her comfort zone at a point, experience life for once, you have just one life” she explains like she always does, but the truth is I don’t want to leave my comfort zone. It is because of this one life that I intend on using it wisely. Sighing, I shake my head as I look at my tall friend who is looking back at me with mom eyes. Praise is beautiful, she has natural hair although it’s still growing, and she wasn’t fat but had curves in all the right places that any dress fits her.

“I know she can but you also know I’m just doing it to protect her. I’m going home, maybe next time, alright.” I said to appease her, but I really just wanted to go home so I could rest before going to work.

“Alright, I’ve heard you. Go and rest and make sure to cook something before you go” she sighs in defeat as I nod my head to her request and she leaves. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my earpiece and phone and played “This is me (greatest showman)”. I got to the car park and took a cab to my hostel.

Getting home, I unlock the door and immediately drop on the bed. This week has been the longest so far even though we just started the semester; I’ve been hammered with project talks already. Remembering that I have to pick up my daughter from school and go to work by 3pm makes me groan before standing up again and moving to the kitchen. Our hostel is a self-contain, which means we have one bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom. We had other hostel mates with whom we got along with, as our hostel was made in a way that there was a section that had to share a general kitchen while there’s another section that had in built kitchens like mine. This makes everyone get along just fine, so we are all just one big family.

I never had an easy life. Ever since I was born and my dad knew I was a girl, I have gone through hell. I had been enrolled as an apprentice at a fashion school in Lagos by a kind woman who went to the church I did when I left my home ten years ago. I had put all my efforts into it, so I graduated after a year and a half of enrolling, while at the same time I worked as a tutor to the same woman’s children who were both in junior secondary school and just had my secondary school certificate and WAEC result for another year.

I saved part of the money I got from working after carefully calculating all the expenses of taking care of myself and a toddler. I enrolled for admission into the university and, thankfully, I got accepted and decided to study Law because I wanted to at least change the society I grew up in by giving the females enlightenment on their rights and helping them enforce those rights. I shake my head to ward off my memories. See, they never leave me alone.

I quickly put the rice on fire before making the stew. After putting the stew on fire, I leave it to go freshen up for work. Not really taking off any of my clothes since I just had classes until 1pm, I decided to just rest a little only to be disturbed again by the sound of my phone ringing. Checking the caller ID, I groan as I pick the call.

“Hello Oga, good afternoon ma.” My apprentice Esther was always a little shy about calling me, but when she does it’s always important.

“There are some women here who want to sow lace gowns for their departmental week. I’m calling because I don’t know anything about lace yet and we have a full booking already, so should I just take their style of choice?” she asks in a little voice like she didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Yes, just let them choose their styles and take their measurements, I’ll be there soon.” I said before hanging up the phone. Taking a huge whiff of breath, I groan again because I’m going to have to work overtime. You see, it’s the season of graduation and so, every final year, students have their departmental week where they do a series of events each day of the week that shows their last time at the university. Technically, there is a day where they all wear a particular clothing they have chosen to sow. Going back to the kitchen, I remove the food from the fire and dish mine into a cooler to take to work. After setting everything right, I leave the house again.

Author’s note

My beloved readers, Chapter one is done and out.

It did take a longer time to figure this chapter out because it’s very important, but how was it? Did you enjoy it?

What do you think happened to Darasimi in her past?

How come she has a child? Am I the only one finding this weird?

Well, this is just the beginning of another exciting story.

Stay tuned and please share this with your friends or even your boss…(wink).

Word count: 2108