Second Half, New Quarter, Who This?
On my first day in nursery school in University of Lagos Women Society, I cried and broke into an almost violent tantrum. I remember the day vividly: my mom in a suit, uncle Sunday driving, my dress — red, with some sort of round-ish design. We were in the classroom when I started crying. I wouldn’t let go of my mother’s hand, and kept trying to pull or push myself to her; I ended up dancing around her while the teacher, Mrs. Kayode, a plump, light skinned woman with slick black hair, stood at the entrance. She probably had a smirk on her face: “You don’t know, you don’t know what is going on, but eventuarry.” There was no escaping.
If you’re wondering why, the answer is why not? At three-years-old, I was probably thinking: Who the hell dumps a child with a bunch of strangers? Now I understand — I’m willing to dump the three-year-old I don’t have yet with a bunch of strangers. That’s besides the point. The point is new beginnings, new jobs, new people are scary, and have always been. And it’s not just for me.
In a world where we are able to say with more certainty than speculation, events that shaped us, or go on to define who we become later in life (read this excellent essay on how forgotten childhood memories shape our lives), I’d say that one defined me and my approach/reluctance to a type of change that involves new spaces, new people and a different routine. I’ve written about it, to a degree, in this essay about finding certainty.
I started a new job this week. I want to reply all your congratulatory responses, but I doubt I’d be able to; this is me thanking you in advance — thank you. The entire weekend, and maybe even weeks leading up to my resumption date, I was scared, nervous and felt like a scam. I want to say that just like this Thoughts Day letter where I told you to throw caution to the wind and start something new, I wasn’t terrified, but you see, if Tobi releases my receipts on this Mark Zuckerberg’s internet, you would stop reading me. That’s how badly my fear manifested itself. Not with tantrums or tears, but with panic attacks and texts pleading with Tobi to somehow validate me; as per remind me of my life’s story na, tell me why I’m qualified for this role, epp my ministry.
Settling in has been good. My fear has largely dissipated; it comes and goes. My schedule is a mess; I’m too nervous to read things, too nervous to eat on some days (very unlike me in these situations, so intermittent fasting) and too nervous to tweet things. How do you deal with new places? How do you deal with a new environment? A new job? If you have tips, please share with me.
Ope’s Reads
We were privileged to have Allyn Gaestel on Arts and Africa this week! She created this breathtaking personal photo essay on intimacy, portraiture and reverence. Because more women (and men) are standing up against the institution of patriarchy and its manifestations in everything: the church, the mosque, the school etc., I recommend this story curated by Toketemu on how long it’s taken some women to speak up. I’ve said elsewhere that we are in the middle of a revolution. The #Metoo movement is finally (and when I say “finally”, I sigh with relief) infiltrating the system at a pace that perpetrators of these crimes against women (and against humanity) and an older generation of baby boomers cannot comprehend. So, think #ChurchToo, and #ArewaMeToo.
My friend, Ademola, killed it on this personal essay that discusses how he navigates (or does not navigate) mortality. With this essay on spirituality, I felt seen. It represents my views on spirituality, how I see the world and how I’m always seeking truths in an open minded type of way.
You know what this weekend is? Owa ni be! Catch me in gele, dancing like someone’s Yoruba auntie, as I unwind from Lagos stress.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
Have a pleasant weekend. ❤️