Who knew knowledge had a taste! How could she have anticipated the bittersweet aftertaste at the back of her tongue? It had been two weeks since her encounter with Imani and she was yet to recover. Now more aware of her need to learn, unlearn and relearn lots of things. The confused weather mirrored her mind; some parts of the sky were cloudy, and yet the sun shined brightly. A soft whirlwind was dancing a few steps away from her and had the strange feel of a metronome counting loudly in one’s ears as if to say, ‘time was a luxury and now you lack it in abundance’. Had she wasted so much of her young life and it was now too late? That should not be the case, or is it? How does she catch up then?

“You really should watch where you’re going young lady,” said a calm voice behind her, the tone devoid of anger and austerity. Lydia turned to realise she had zoned out of the universe completely. A middle-aged woman was staring oddly at her, her round-rimmed spectacles well balanced on her nose. Lydia had settled in front of a parking zone, obstructing the woman from parking.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking ma” Lydia apologised.

“You had not been looking since you turned the corner, I was watching you. Is everything okay?” the woman pressed. Lydia was caught in the smooth strength of her voice. She had these soft eyes that beckoned her to spill her innermost thoughts.

“Everything is fine ma, thank you ma” she managed to say and dashed away. She could not explain why her heart was beating so fast. She took a minute to get composed and reminded herself she was on an important trip and therefore couldn’t afford any lapse in focus and confidence. She was to meet with Dr Amelia at the Public Health department. Her supervisor had advised she meet with her to discuss her idea on ‘HERBAL MEDICINES FOR TREATMENT OF BACTERIAL INFECTIONS’ the use of herbs/plants as safe and viable antibiotics. The alarming increase in antibiotics resistance was a problem she had decided to tackle and solve. She was told if anyone had the resources, she needed both of people and materials, it was the doctor.

Her mind seemed to have another mind of its own since the encounter with Imani, but she needed it to cooperate now. She was in the grand premises of the university and lost. She looked around to see any of the landmarks described to her by her supervisor but couldn’t figure out where to go. After about fifteen minutes of wandering, she decided to ask the security agent at the close-by bank and interestingly, he directed her back to the same area she had met the velvety-voiced woman. She berated herself for not looking up to see the bold sign that showed the department. She followed the directions and landed at Dr. Amelia’s office.

The gold-plated signage on the wooden door read Dr Amelia Nsodu. She was here. She took a deep breath, knocked softly and waited for a response. As she got her “come in” response, she opened the door and walked in, coming face to face with the velvety-voiced woman from downstairs. Unsure of how to react, she stood there, transfixed and staring at the woman for what seemed like forever, until the voice she was now accustomed to said, “Is everything okay, young lady?”. That snapped Lydia out of whatever trance she was in. She stammered out her awkward greeting and quickly asked herself in the seconds it took to walk up to the table – what would Imani do? or Nosizwe? or even Rumi in this situation.

“My name is Lydia; I’m working on the effects of ‘HERBAL MEDICINES FOR TREATMENT OF BACTERIAL INFECTIONS’, the use of herbs/plants as suitable alternative antibiotics. I started interning at Genof Research firm where with the help of my supervisor DR. Akinsola and my eyes have been exposed to the abuse of antibiotics and I believe I have a clearer understanding of my involvement and role in solving parts of the problem.  I need your help on this project ma and I’d be really glad if you could assist.” Lydia said semi-confidently.

“I’m glad there are still young people like you who are passionate about creating solutions to real-life problems, and we’ll have enough time to discuss in detail what you want to do. Before then though, why don’t you have a seat and tell me what has gotten you so shaken and deep in thought? Or are you not the lady I met downstairs completely disconnected from her environment? I have a strong feeling what’s bothering you is not fourth generation carbapenems,” said Amelia.

She was about to give the automated “I am fine” reply but, her thinking of the new insights she had gotten lately, coupled with the sweet calm in the doctor’s voice was quite overwhelming. Before she knew it, they got into a deep conversation of some life issues. The questions in her heart found their way out and Amelia was patiently waiting.

“I believe our meeting today is not mere coincidence young lady. I see the confusion in your mind, and I will tell you a bit about what I know about life and what it has taught me so far. Life is designed to give the best and demand the best from you, and in that process, it presents challenges and struggles in varied dimensions. You can have money and lack friends or have a talent and lack money. You could have parents without joy, and joy without parents and so on, but life compensates for whatever you lack and it’s our responsibility to carve opportunities from challenges, and order from the chaos. Whether it’s me, you, or someone older, we need to understand the phase of life we are in at that given time, see through the challenges, and milk out the opportunities. And what’s understanding life without proper guidance? You need to follow someone who simply put, is helpful for your self-discipline and regulation. The people you look up to have been able to master the art of self-regulation. They’re not particularly special, they’re just self-regulated to a tee! It’s what brings out the best in a person. So, the most important question you must ask is, ‘What do I need?’ and not ‘What do I want?’. The emphasis should no longer be about what life can give or do for you, but rather about, what you can do and what life demands from you”.

“Wow! I had no idea I would be having this kind of conversation when I left my house this morning but more than that, I didn’t know how much I needed it. My friend and I embarked on a journey of discovery recently hungry for answers. We didn’t know how we were going to go about it, but we just knew we had to and believed the stars would align and the universe would be in agreement with us. The more we discover, the deeper the questions in our hearts and the need for more. I have another question that bothers me” she said to Amelia’s silence. “I’ve been trying to understand my role in all this, the role of women in the society. Surely it goes beyond making babies” uttered Lydia.

“We are naturally nurturers and love to cater to people and things, most especially the ones close to us. We love to see things flourish and become beautiful, thereby enhancing the values of life. The role of the woman is to enhance the capacity of both men and women. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, it is said. Once a woman focuses on a task to be done, rather than the issues that distract from it, she goes on to produce the best result wherever she finds herself”.

“Women (particularly mothers), undoubtedly have a decisive influence on the future direction of our society because of the role we play raising and nurturing the next generation. This influence can either be positive leading to good outcomes in the children, or negative leading to bad outcomes which spell catastrophe for us all. We must understand that a good mother is not just one who can give birth to a child, but one who embodies and expresses the right virtues for a child to imbibe”.

“You see, motherhood is not a role to be scorned and seen as a burden, nuisance or gender curse. It should be treasured like the brilliant gift it is to carry and raise Godly seed who will inspire joy in people and make a positive impact in the world. Whether it may feel like a huge sacrifice or not, we must believe we have been equipped with the grace to be great mothers and strive continually to live up to the highest ideal”.

“I can’t thank you enough ma. The encounter that left me in deep thought earlier was loaded also, and I do not quite know how I feel about this additional revelation yet, but I’m glad we met. I have a few more questions but I would like my friend Rumi to be part of this learning process. I hope you don’t mind”.

While Amelia was assuring her, it was okay to invite Rumi, they heard a knock on the door and just as immediately, it opened and in came the most beautiful creature Lydia had ever seen. She must have been staring shamelessly because he gave her a weird look and smiled at Amelia.

“Hey Mum,” he said as he came to her side. “Hope I’m not interrupting”.

“Hello son. Meet Lydia, Lydia, Joshua, my second son,” Amelia said with pride. Who wouldn’t be proud of this hunk of a man? Confidently many inches above her, light-skinned and wickedly handsome, with a chiselled jaw and sparse beards on the side of his face. She wanted to say something to him, but her throat went suddenly dry. He extended his hands towards her and said

“Nice to meet you, Lydia”. Amelia read the room and intervened “I was just about to invite Lydia to dinner. We have quite a lot to discuss and so, how about we host her and her friend? Would that be okay with you?”

“Definitely mum” he said without looking away from Lydia.

She felt warm from her inside out. No one should be looked at that way, no one.

Imani knew to be careful with her responses, but she also wasn’t going to mince words and fail to tell the truth as it is. Drawing from the knowledge she had gathered over these years of learning, especially from her own mentor who was a very dear core of her existence and journey, she started to say:

“There is an unwritten code that expects women to be softer, calmer and more in touch with the gentler aspects of their emotions. A rule that expects them to not express their disgust or pain with any ferocity. This rule in itself is neither good nor evil, but rather, it‘s a rule that borders on empathy and the core of nurturing and motherhood. Though these expectations sometimes are unrealistic because anger is a valid emotion for every human and certain actions should get us angry, but every action from a woman should be dispensed with candour and grace”.

“Make no mistake, no one should bottle up their emotions, and a woman must not be hypocritical about her feelings, no thanks to societal expectations either. She should instead express herself always with a gracious aura. She must not REACT to situations but rather RESPOND to them, knowing well that effective communication focuses on the goal, and solving the problem is more important than the theatrics of her expression.

There is a huge difference between responding and reacting; a response is a deep-seated, thought-through disposition, while a reaction is the immediate, reflex action that bypasses thinking, which she must always rise above”.

“If I would answer what a woman should aspire to be at every level, I would start by saying the role of women is unique to each woman; her skills, talents, capacity, resilience and environment. Having said that, it is every woman’s desire to love and be loved. Women have that natural ability to reproduce; She can turn houses into homes, groceries into food, affection into love. Women need to recognise the different phases and stages of their lives and maximise them accordingly. There is a time to be career-minded, there is also the time to focus on the homefront, your family. When times and seasons are not understood, there stands a great risk and complication for the woman and everyone around her. After all, she is the life-giving life to other lives”.

“Women shouldn’t be driven only by the aesthetics and economics of things, that’s outward beauty and money, but more so by sound ethics and values. They must dig deep into the recesses of their souls and attract the right set of people that can help, enable, and bring out the best in them. They must be AUTHENTIC. Authenticity must be the expression of a woman, and it’s not just about her identity, but also her character and the best she can produce”.

The audience listened with rapt attention and were in blissful awe of all things Imani. She answered a few more questions and conversed a bit more with the people who were very relaxed and impressed. Lydia summoned the courage to reask the sensitive question

“What really is the idea behind feminism?“

Not at all surprised by the question, Imani went on to say
“One thing is clear. While we must stamp out every form of gender discrimination, we must also acknowledge our limitations. It is true that over the years, men have oppressed women. Men have also oppressed other men, women oppressed other women, and women oppressed men. The proportion and tolerability make a lot of difference for sure, but we must see it as a human problem, and not just a man or woman problem. Women have been a blessing to men and women, and men have also been a blessing to women and men”.
“The blanket statement by some ideologists hell-bent on championing equality without acknowledging the unique capabilities and constitution of the individual, and the insistence of the group’s agenda over individual abilities, is a mismatch that has sadly fueled radical feminism. No two people are equal in the real sense of the word, be they male or female. Equal opportunities should be given to everyone, yes, and yet when that happens, what plays out is that not everyone maximises that given opportunity in the end. Instead of playing out the hand of mediocrity in the guise of equality in the marketplace, the focus should rather be on competence. If a woman can do the job better, give it to the woman, and if a man can, let it go to the man. Equality is not twenty men and twenty women in a forty-man workforce. There are roles in society which by nature’s design, are more tailor-made for women, and hence they thrive and perform better in those fields. The same goes for men. So, what is the best thing to do? Let us bring out the best in everyone by pushing for each individual to fulfil his or her own destiny according to their skills, talents and abilities.”
The silence after Imani concluded was deafening, and she did not know what kind of impact she had made with her words. Had she angered them? Confusion tinged with disgust flashed across some faces. Whilst still trying to process their reactions, hands started to fly in the air, and voices began clamouring for more. She was stunned. It was like they were suddenly released from a spell. She tried her best to answer a few more but time would not permit for the more of the flurry. She signalled Fatou who came up immediately, addressing the almost impatient audience with the calm of a Zen practitioner.
“I sincerely apologise to everyone, but we must come to the end of today’s very insightful exposition on womanhood” said Fatou.
“But not to worry, this is just the beginning, Imani always makes time for things and people that matter, and for you to be here right now at this very moment, you definitely matter a whole lot. Even as we plan for another meeting like this, you have her blessing to reach her via her email and on her social media pages. I would like to appreciate every one of you and even more so, our incredibly wise and accommodating guest for today. Thank you so much, Ma. It has been so wonderful for us. And I’m sure you all enjoyed the delicious delicacies made available by Bernadine and grills as well. Make sure to secure your customised package before you leave. This should be a surprise but, I’d let you in on some of the contents; some amazing hair products, and a signed copy of Imani’s new book “Dear Woman, Stand Straight”. Whoop whoop! The other freebies you would discover on your own. Thank you once again and goodbye for now”.
The excited ladies scrambled to get pictures with Imani. Rumi dragged a still puzzled Lydia to Imani as she was about leaving, and Imani recognised them as the girl with the bright smile, and the girl who asked about feminism.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Ma. My name is Rumi, and I’ve been looking forward to this day for a while now. It definitely makes it as one of my happiest days!” said Rumi to a smiling Imani.
“And I am Lydia. I have a better understanding of things now that I’ve met you, and I’m glad I yielded to my bestie here to tag along. I’ve been having a lot of doubts about my existence lately especially as a woman, and just like that, a number of the questions that had been eating at me have been answered in a single sitting! but there are more questions I still need answers too” Lydia said.
Imani took an instant liking to them, and nudged them to walk her to where she was parked as she said: “For knowing and identifying that there is a problem, you have an edge over the majority of people. I’m glad I’ve been of help and I’d love to help some more”. She brought out her card, wrote a number on it and gave it to the girls. “This is my personal number. Call me sometime and let’s talk”.
An elated duo thanked Imani and bade her farewell. They walked back to the garden and saw the planners packing up. Fatou was just at the corner, stuffing some plastics flowers into a large brown bag. She seemed exhausted but the feeling of a great program had her humming along with the DJ and clearing out with vigour. Lydia could not help admiring the young girl; her baby cheeks were still evident, but her eyes spoke strength in volumes. She must have broken her back to make such a wonderful program a reality. Lydia considered walking up to her to appreciate her for a job well done but was hesitant for some reason. Just as she was about to turn away and get going, their eyes met and she gave a slight nod at Fatou, who smiled sheepishly and sent a similar one Lydia’s way. Lydia found Rumi making some new friends and they made for home. Today had been a tremendous blessing. She was glad.

“Hurry up babe. We can’t afford to be late” Rumi said. She was dressed in all white, ready to meet with her beloved mentor, Imani. As agreed, she was in Lydia’s house, ready to drag her along.

“Madam, it’s a quarter to two, the meet and greet is starting by two-thirty PM, and you know we are guaranteed to face some traffic!” she persisted.

“I’m almost ready” Lydia replied. “I need to find my lucky lipstick. Who knows where I’ll find man?”.

Rumi deliberately ignored her. She wasn’t ready to listen to yet another long lamentation of how ‘boo-less’ her friend was, and she didn’t think now was the time to tell her about the guy she met recently. Her thoughts drifted immediately to the fine, tall, brilliant sounding young man, who smelled of heaven and expensive spice. They were getting along quite well, and the speed at which she was falling for him was frankly, quite embarrassing. Eventually, she and Lydia would get around discussing him.

Another quick glance at her friend and her smile widened. She appeared to be doing very well these days. Lighter, happier, and all around, much better. She must be doing something right. Her supervisor had been instrumental in getting her an internship placement. After all the strings had been pulled, she now worked as an intern researcher at an emerging company who dealt with medicinal plants and antibiotics. Although she was still broke as hell, it did not bother her as much.

“What’s going on dear? You have been blushing at me since you got here. Is my shape bursting your head that much?” She said and swayed her hips dramatically. She was putting on a long sleeve wrap top and pink pants. She looked good. Rumi just had to giggle at that.

“Okay, I’m all set” said Lydia and the duo headed to the venue.                                                     

                                                            *********************

Imani was the person you called when in a fix. She seemed to have the solution for any problem, and a mind that always worked in overdrive. Calculated, calm and steadily oozing a confident aura, the 41-year-old had fixed herself not just in the places that mattered, but squarely in the heart of her adoring fans and loved ones. Never wanting her achievements in the tech industry overly publicised and going about her business in as much modesty as possible, she got things done with grit and precision. These traits she claimed, were learned from her parents who served in the Airforce. She never does all the superwoman stunts to the detriment of her wellbeing though. Knowing how essential self-care is, she makes out time for it, with the understanding she can only give out what she has herself. She is successfully infecting the people around with these virtues.

She had arrived an hour earlier for the meet and greet and was waiting calmly in her car. She could not stand tardiness. Besides, she needed some extra time to centre herself and carefully think through the upcoming session, so she could fully articulate her thoughts. She reminisced on her journey so far and broke out in a little smile. It’s funny how the periods of wait and what once looked like severe delay, gave way to the steady ascension and the unbelievable breakthrough that followed. Her life was surely an epic story that a good director can turn into a blockbuster movie. She had not gotten here by accident; she was sure of it. God played and is still playing hard on her matter. 

She had risen to the level of a senior executive in a fintech firm and diversified acquiring a few decent sources of extra income. She was active on social media particularly Instagram, using the platform to empower the youth especially to the best of her abilities. She shared her personal experiences and encouraged them to be patient, particularly with themselves. One of the major problems of this  generation of youth undoubtedly is impatience; the urge to blow, right away, and regardless of anything. The tyranny of the urgent does a lot as well to unsettle people and cause them to lose their focus.

A few of her most trusted mentees suggested that they have an offline opportunity to listen to her. Not one to be akin to fanfare, her immediate reaction was to object. They had to do a lot of convincing for her to change her mind. To make things easier, they had taken it upon themselves to organise a small-scale session later termed the ‘Meet and Greet with Imani’. She came to love the idea and was grateful for their effort. The agenda was to take them through a quick journey of her personal life and settle some of the misgivings they might have about themselves, their parents, their generation, the nation, and life in general. It was high time their minds were well equipped.

Her phone buzzed and she knew that was her cue. As she got to the entrance, a burst of fresh air and an amazing earthy fragrance filled her nostrils and lungs. This meeting held in an open garden space beautifully decorated with creative balloons and flowers of all kinds. She took it all in and thought to herself “These guys put their heart into this”. She caught a glimpse of two bright-eyed girls grinning from ear to ear in her direction causing her to wave at them. The one in all white and a ponytail seemed like she could not contain her excitement. Imani got infected by such exuberance, and it gladdened her the passion these girls seemingly have for the things that truly matter. Maybe there was hope for this generation after all. She silently said a prayer for the wisdom to say the right things.

Fatou, the anchor of the program was also, in fact, the chief organiser, and had come up with the inspired idea of this meeting. A big-time fan of Imani, she had covertly understudied her role model and devoted herself to learning from her. Fatou, who just crossed the notable age of 16 was wiser than her years and overly excited about her future. It was tough losing her parents at age 10 to an unfortunate peaceful-turned-violent protest for which gunmen involvement was unplanned. Her uncle took her and her younger brother to live with him and his family, and she made it a point to adhere to the rules of her new home since then. With the consciousness to work twice as hard as her peers, she excelled in schoolwork and is becoming adept in her primary hobby of sewing. She loves volunteer work as well and is determined to pursue a career in investigative journalism.

“Let’s all take an extra minute to say our hellos and settle down, we begin the program in one minute. Thank you“ said Fatou. She gave a quick glance around and sighed deeply. ‘Today can’t go wrong‘ she silently prayed.

Imani sat and faced the expectant audience in a U-shape, and the discussion soon started. The ladies sure had loads of questions, and she could only hope to have the right answers, advice and support. The question that began the heated path was “Why are we often referred to as angry? Once a woman stands up for something she believes in, you hear the term ‘angry black woman’ and statements like ‘that is not how a lady should behave blah blah blah’. Other questions like “What’s the role and purpose of the woman?” Soon followed, and then the killer punch “What is feminism?’

“Wait, wait, wait” Lydia cut her short. “If I’m correct, you suspected this guy from the start; he weaved you through beautifully webbed lies, you unsuspected him and now he’s a crime suspect,” Lydia said and burst into laughter. 

“They are still playing you in this Lagos” Lydia continued giggling.

A sober Rumi stuttered “but you know fine boys”- Lydia chorused with her “are my weakness” and burst into another round of laughter.

“I’m just sad you had me so worried, I had called and called, no response. I even stopped by on my way home from my brother’s house to check on you, but you weren’t in by that time.

“You didn’t even ask how I got home. I begged the ticket seller to help me with her phone charger, deactivated my card, and used a bank transfer for the cab that brought me home. I had fifteen thousand naira in that purse, and I did giveaway just like that”

“Add the ticket money dear, add the free ticket money” Lydia teased.

Rumi rolled her eyes and they soon got gisting about her conversation with Nosizwe.

Lydia shared their conversation with Rumi, right to the last detail and their convictions were strengthened. They quickly moved passed the previous incident and began to forge a new plan.

“I really need to get a job babe,” said Lydia. “This whole jobless life is really stressing me out. So many false promises from my connections. I’m tired of this independent life and I’m losing it” she whined.

“Relax girl. I think you have been going about this independent thing all wrong, but that’s gist for another day. Now let us analyse what would work best for you. You need to get a volunteering job to start with. One preferably close to your house so that the burdens of preparations, and commute time doesn’t mess up your productivity. You know, work with people that help people and have the genuine interest of these people at heart, and well, for free too.” Said Rumi.

Lydia looked lost for a while. She wants…, scratch that, she needs a job, and her best friend was telling her to go work for free. Did the handsome thief steal her brain as well?

“Okay, I’ll explain better, because I can see you looking all lost and ready to pounce on me. I was speaking with my mentor the other day and we got talking about this. Volunteering is an attitude that prepares you to do for free what you will do for a fee”. Rumi started to say to non-interested Lydia.

“Listen babe, there is always something to do. There is always a place or someone around that needs someone to do some meaningful work for them, and some genuinely cannot afford to pay you what you deserve, but they can cater to your transport fares, feeding or give stipends here and there”. 

“What is most important is the attitude you carry. It is waiting for the big break but waiting well. Developing yourself and your outlook to the real world. Not everyone is ‘lucky’ to hit it big so soon and that is okay. It is in fact better, because you lay some core foundations and grow in ways you wouldn’t if you just suddenly arrive. 

It’s the engagement you need before employment so that all your life is not spent running from pillar to post for money that won’t ever be enough, no matter the amount. We all want to blow and have the best lifestyles but, we must pace ourselves and build the right way.”

“But you know I usher at events and write sometimes for that magazine. Does that not count?” asked Lydia.

“Well, how often do you get to do this? Sometimes, weeks and months pass by before you get any gig, and by the way, can you include ushering for funerals in your CV? 

You should not have a gap day, week, month or whenever, even if you don’t have a job. I mean, look around. It could be a school, company, NGO, something. 

You know that when I am not off modelling, I’m busy helping plan the next outreach for the NGO I work with. Last month we had a blood drive at a beach and the blood donated was given to children with cancer and other people that need it more. You don’t have to do exactly what I’m doing or copy anyone, but you must find something doing; something that works for you, something engaging and something that excites you”.

“I hear you, but you’ve still not told me how I’ll pay my bills. How will working for free put food on my table?” Lydia stressed.

“Now that you are not working, are your bills paid? Is there food on your table? I’m saying, what you don’t get in money, you get in acquiring and developing new skills, mental activation, and human interaction. You are blocking the gap in your Curriculum Vitae, so you will be able to respond when asked: “What did you do during your period of wait?” You’ll eventually find someone or someplace that needs your enhanced skills or be retained and paid duly. In every labour, there is a reward, and every effort has a commensurable profit. Besides, payday isn’t limited to thirty days or the end of the month”

“Wow! Thank you!” Lydia said.

“Yeah. See me rambling away. I have my mentors to thank for all this wisdom” she laughed.

“Do they know you were scammed last night, or that your ability to reason is suspended around fine boys?”

“It’s not your fault. If it was another person, won’t they pay for all these wise nuggets that I’m giving you for free? See your mouth” Said Rumi. 

“One last thing. The best way to find what works best for you is to find where your little effort produces the most reward, and where you’re most happy, whether you are paid for it or not”.

“Okay, I’ll speak with my project supervisor. We keep decent communication and she was good to me. I’ve always wanted to do research, and she might know one or two people who can be of help”.

“That’s it girl! Eventually, when we start making this money ehn, no one should even tell me rubbish, I’m ready for anybody. Thank God I can fight”. Rumi said gleefully in a semi-karate pose.

“Go and fight the boy that swindled you first, local champion” teased Lydia.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome, ma. Thank you for coming, come and be going!” said Rumi playfully.

They joked some more, and Lydia left to begin making plans with her supervisor. The last few days had been productive and for that, she was grateful.

“This is a copyright of Livingstone Research & Ideas, curators of The Confident Black Woman.”

Lydia was dazed with confusion. “What the hell was happening?” She dialled Rumi again, but her phone was switched off. “Is she in trouble? Was she kidnapped? God! “I hope she has not been in an accident! She paced furiously across her living room, totally triggered, and confused. Another call came in five minutes later.

“Hey Bestie.” Rumi’s shrill voice resounded over the phone. Lydia almost collapsed from relief.

“What happened? You had me so worried. Why have you decided to give me a heart attack ehn” said Lydia with a growing anger.

“I’m sorry babe. I know you must have been worried sick about me” she said.

“Of course, I’ve been worried. I’ve not been able to think properly since yesternight. Where did you go?”[1] 

“See ehn, don’t mind me. I waka one stupid waka yesterday and had a slight accident” she said.

Once again, Lydia was thrown into another panic frenzy.

“But don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious. I’m at home now, come over let me give you gist.”

                                                            *********************

A still shaken but relieved Lydia got to Rumi’s house within the hour. She was angry but curious at the same time. She quickly caved into her curiosity by not scolding Rumi the way she had planned to. Turns out, Rumi had gone out with a guy she met recently at one of her fashion photo-shoots. A model like her with similar interests, and it therefore did not take long for them to get over the talking phase. He was everything she liked in a man. Fine, fine, and FINE!

Most of Rumi’s weaknesses could be summarised into ‘fine boys’. She appeared to lose every ability to reason clearly when around the ‘poisonous’ species. They agreed to go see a movie. She had arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Like Lydia, she detested being late for anything. She was wearing her tightest jeans (her curves were most expressive in them), and the exact message she wanted to pass across. She had light makeup on, wore her full lace wig and slipped her dark shades between the weaves. She knew she looked good.

Her date started off by being late and shabbily throwing in a flimsy excuse of an apology. She should have seen the signs and ran for dear life, but no! Fine boy! They agreed to watch the finale of the Marvel comics’ Franchise, Avengers: End game. Everyone had been talking about the death of Iron Man, she was not going to wait for any more spoilers. When they got to the ticket stand, she leaned back slightly to let him do his thing; pay for them both and silently admire him from behind. He was fine looking, whoosh! He wasn’t ripped like Elliot, her ex, but he was just as tall and with a great fashion sense. She was so focused on her intense perusal that she did not notice someone was fumbling between his wallet and pocket. She did not want to believe he was pulling this incredibly old and dumb trick on her until he said

“Babe, I think I…”

“Forgot your card at home? Or let me see, changed trousers at the last minute? Or someone picked your pocket in the bus? Or better still, an octopus fell from the sky and you were so smitten by its beauty, you gave it your ATM card!” She knew she was a bit extra but, she had seen it all and heard so many excuses she wasn’t going to take anymore. It was her fault for automatically thinking every fine boy was a gentleman. He was saying something in the line of “pay for us, I’ll transfer to you” but she was already on her way out. “No time for broke boys” she said to herself.

“What then happened?” asked Lydia.

“Relax now. you too like gist” said Rumi.

“Get to it already”

As she was leaving, he ran after her and apologised profusely. He was obviously embarrassed, and his explanation made sense. He had stopped to withdraw some money at the ATM and he forgot to retrieve his card after taking the money. She felt sad for him especially for embarrassing him that way and agreed to pay for the tickets, declining the refund when he offered to do a transfer.

“It’s the least I can do, for embarrassing you, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I’ve heard a lot of silly stories and I don’t want any part of it.” He accepted her apology and got popcorn and drinks. Since they missed the previous slot, they had to wait for the Eleven PM time slot.

“Now this is the interesting part Lydia” but Lydia was listening with rapt attention anyway.

“While we were watching the movie, he said he wanted to use the gents. At first I was like, who leaves to do anything in the middle of the most interesting movie ever? I did not pay attention to him as he left. Hmmm, 10 minutes later, he was not back, I thought maybe he was doing more than urinate, till 20 minutes and then 30 minutes passed. I decided to call him to say he was missing out and all, but I realised my phone battery was dead. When the movie ended and he wasn’t back, I was seriously worried and wondered what could have happened. Then a thought crossed my mind and I shook my head vigorously hoping it was false. I checked my bag for my purse and lo and behold…”

“Hell no!!!. he stole your purse?” Lydia shouted with absolute disbelief.

Not clear who is speaking…

“I’m sure we’ll have another conversation where I’ll share in detail, the story of dear Abike, but for tonight, let us talk about why I am a ‘full time housewife’ like you described. When you look at Naomi for instance, what do you see? You might see an adorable and brave kid but, what I see is my ticket to peace of mind, and strength in the days when I need it the most. You might call that selfishness, but I think the right word is enlightened self-interest. If these basic insights are lost, I will not only nurture a public nuisance and terror, my peace will be snatched from me and I will be a generational disgrace”.

Lydia winced slightly.

“Yes! It is that deep. If I fail her as a parent, I fail myself, my family, my nation, and my God. What is most important to me right now is that I raise  well rounded and godly children, who will face all the challenges the world will bring and overcome every single one ethically, morally and legally without regrets.”

“Secondly, the skill of raising children and effectively managing a home is required in the marketplace, and for leadership roles and positions. I mentioned earlier it takes a great deal of effort to raise a child, a GOOD child. Children always want their way and that is because they entered this world having everyone at their beck and call. The pathway to entitlement had already been set. It takes a lot of work to dust all that nonsense off their heads, and you will meet far higher devils in the marketplace, with tougher demands and rigorous experiences. I have been there, and the streets are tough! You’ll learn a lot on how to navigate it all through the process of catering to children and maintaining a stable home.”

“Lastly, it does not have to end here at home you know’ she chuckled. “The world is waiting, and I have not lost anything really. I am patient. What is the rush? And more so, I have been busy and productive; I am not wasting my time gossiping or slouching God help me, and I am developing myself gradually in my line of work in terms of learning and education. Times are changing, and it would be even more demanding and pressured in the corporate world later. You think when I get back out there, I would not find it relatively easier to handle?”

‘Corporate Homemaker’ is all of this and more embodied in one woman.” Lydia concluded.

It was just a few minutes before Eight o’clock and Lydia had to leave. She had been silent up until then and Nosizwe knew she had passed the message across well.

“You know you could just pass the night here and leave in the morning, right?” said Nosizwe.

“Thanks, but I promised Rumi I’d check up on her before the day ends. Besides, I need some alone time to think about all you have said. It’s a lot”. Lydia said

“I understand” Nosizwe joined the already standing Lydia and went to fetch Robert[1] , as she likes to call her husband. They said their final goodbyes as her driver arrived and she hopped into the back seat of the car.

“I think I gave her a lot to think about” Nosizwe told her husband.

“I think she NEEDS a lot to think about” he replied.

Lydia dialled Rumi again and this time, could not reach her at all. It was very strange and unlike her friend. She felt a tug in her heart, and realised it was fear. “It’s not like anything bad has happened” she said to herself.

“Huh?” the Uber driver said.

“Not you please. You know what? Take me to the street ahead. Yes, the one after the bank” she decided to check on her friend.

Lydia knocked and kept waiting for her friend’s shrill voice, but it never came. No lights seemed to be on so no one was home either. “She must be in a man’s house” she thought to herself again and walked the short distance home.

As she settled down to sleep, her mind drifted between her conversation with Nosizwe, the mention of Abike, and she was beginning to comprehend that she knew extraordinarily little. It is not what you know but what you do not know that will most likely kill you. She had a lot to gist her friend about. Once again, this time tighter, she felt the knot twisting her insides and a tiny bead of sweat formed on her forehead. She muttered a scrambled prayer and closed her eyes to oblivion.

The sudden vibration of her phone sent Lydia into another awkward jolt. Her nerves seemed to be on steroids since she woke up. Nosizwe had sent a follow-up text to their late-night conversation. How thoughtful of her. Still unable to reach Rumi, her mind imagined all manner of things and the silence was killing her. She stalled on calling Rumi’s mum knowing Rumi would not like that. For some reason she never quite discussed or even seemed ready to tell, Rumi placed a limitation on the relationship and interaction with her mum, and her Dad was late. Perceiving her reluctance to share, to be the result of a deep and still sore wound, Lydia never pressed on the matter, and figured it best to leave things alone. Her sweet friend would share when she was ready.

Lydia tried busying herself with several tasks, but it just wasn’t working. Surely, she’d have to call Rumi’s mother at this point. She was losing it and about to break down with exasperation when suddenly, her phone rang.

“Hello, hello, Rumi, can you hear me?” she screamed into the phone when she picked up. “Hello? Oh thank God, I’ve been worried sick! Where have you been? What happened to your phone? Where are you? Can you hear me?” She shouted into the phone, and as suddenly as the call came in, it ended.

Who is Robert? Is he Nosizwe’s husband? If yes, you may want to add “as she likes to call her husband” as we did not establish his name in the previous episode.

We join the UN in celebrating the International Widows’ Day because it raises awareness on the issues faced by widows and gives them a voice. Instituted on 21st December 2010, the day was created to help eradicate the poverty and injustice faced by millions of widows and their dependents. It also helps break the traditional stigma in some communities that suggest that widows bring misfortune, have no right to remarry, and are a burden to society, all false notions, which should be abolished from every human mind. We commiserate with all widows and acknowledge their struggles. We also celebrate their resilience, acts of courage, and determination in the toughest of times.

Grief is experienced in various ways by individuals, and people respond to it in different ways. Though the effect of this loss can linger, it is not the end of life. Rather than feeling powerless and becoming an object of pity, widows must understand that there is so much to live for still, especially if they are young and vibrant. There is a time to mourn, and a time to get over mourning. The pathway of life may have stumbling blocks, but they can pick themselves up and continue the journey. We, therefore, encourage heartbroken widows to move on from grieving for their husbands and start making efforts to support themselves and solve their problems with whatever help they can get.

These women can do a lot for themselves, their families, and nations if their energies and potentials are harnessed and channelled correctly. If they have children, it is important to have good father-figures around for their development. These can be friends, relatives, teachers, clergymen, and the likes. Should the opportunity to get married again present itself, they should embrace it and not feel guilty or ashamed about wanting happiness in life. They should not give third parties the room to pressure them into any action or inaction that does not serve their well-being. They should take a cue from Ruth in the bible. Though a widow, she did not allow the weight of that status to crush her. She rolled up her sleeves and got to working in the fields to support herself and, in a twist of fate, a divine intervention, it was there she met the man that was to be her future husband—Boaz.

While we celebrate the widow, we must also not forget the widowers. Widows and widowers must contend with the severe emotional agony of losing a spouse, which is one of life’s most stressful events. Though widowers are generally more financially stable and easily remarried than widows, they still grieve, as women do.

According to Jane Burgess, Author of The Single Again Man, “deep down, good men are very much like good women… they grieve and experience the pain of their spouses’ loss in the same way women do—all the way to the marrow.” Traditionally, men are not known for talking, especially about these issues so, some widowers carry deep-seated anger and emptiness that lead to depression, ill-health, and many times cause them to lunge into rebound marriages which also may end as quickly as they started.

Our society is ill-equipped to deal with widowers, so men who live longer than their wives typically are ill-equipped to deal with their loss. It is, therefore, pertinent for us to do better as a society in supporting them. Hence, we encourage the United Nations to incorporate widowers into their efforts and, as part of this, to make the day the International Widows’ and Widowers’ Day. While a lot of the effort would go towards the widows, as they generally are more vulnerable, they would not leave the widowers out.

In the society at large, we must now have more of a Widowed Persons Social Service structure and not just a widows-only one, so that men can get support in their grief and learn some needed survival skills such as cooking and raising children (girls especially).

We encourage the families and friends, and the faith, work, and social organisations of these widows and widowers to be excellent support systems for them and keep rendering help when needed until they recover fully and can stand on their own feet. This help is not solely in the form of financial resources. A phone conversation, visitation, and acts of service can also go a long way to comfort and help them. Lastly, we admonish governments to act by enacting favourable policies and upholding their commitments to ensuring the rights of widows as enshrined in international law. We also need the judiciary to prioritise attention to these women as they come forward with their issues, treating matters lawfully, swiftly and with empathy and not allowing the process of them getting their rights and possessions become an uphill task.

REFERENCES

1. https://www.un.org/en/observances/widows-day
2. https://www.india.com/festivals-events/international-widows-day-2020-history-significance-of-the-day-and-theme-for-this-year-4065701/
3. https://internationaleventday.com/event/international-widows-day-2020/
4. https://www.unwomen.org/en/news/stories/2019/6/statement-ed-international-widows-day
5. https://www.daysoftheyear.com/days/international-widows-day/
6. https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1988/06/29/widowers-plight/13b1f915-1a5d-4566-b0f4-3a9d121acc0c/

• https://www.cbsnews.com/news/plight-of-a-widower/

• https://paindoctor.com/top-10-stressful-life-events-holmes-rahe-stress-scale/

Lydia looked through her window for the zillionth time. Her patience had worn thin. She was guaranteed to be late if her Uber driver failed on their agreed time. She frantically put on her shoes as she dialled his number again, and when the call connected, she went straight into thug mode.

Lydia looked through her window for the zillionth time. Her patience had worn thin. She was guaranteed to be late if her Uber driver failed on their agreed time. She frantically put on her shoes as she dialled his number again, and when the call connected, she went straight into thug mode.

“What is the meaning of all this? The App said you would be here in seven minutes and you also confirmed it but somehow, you are lost in the streets. If you are not ready for this trip, cancel and let me order another ride!” She barked at him.

“I’m sorry please, I missed a turn and had to ask for directions, you’ll see me soon.” he said.

“I don’t know the use of their GPS map or whatever it is called” she muttered under her breath as she picked up her bag and phone to leave. Lydia has never been one to show up late for events no matter how informal they were, and especially not when she had promised her brother, she would visit him and his family this weekend.

“You’re so close, yet so far away” he had complained over the phone. She had run out of excuses and accepted to go spend some time with them. His wife Nosizwe was too amazing to be true, a full-time housewife, but the couple preferred the term ‘Corporate Homemaker’. On no account can the 32-year-old stellar Accountant be accused of not doing a terrific job with whatever she set her mind to do. Although Lydia does not understand how someone so intelligent and smart has denied her industry her skills and potentials, instead resigning to wife and mummy duties for the better part of six years and counting. Nosizwe, the calm and collected light skinned beauty that turned heads anytime of the day. A yummy mummy of 3! She had reignited her passion for culinary art two years ago, initially sharing recipes with just friends but, with the inflow of encouraging reviews especially from her husband, she took it to the next level and began a food blog that has soon taken a life of its own. 

Lydia could not wrap her mind around any woman, especially the learned and well read, subjecting herself to the torture of being a housewife, when there’s money to be made. “God forbid she is dependent on any man. It can never be her” she thought. She would rather not have that conversation with her sister-in-law for fear of exposing her ignorance or being emotionally reactive, and that was one of the reasons Lydia kept away. Her niece Naomi was another case entirely. Just seven years old, she could educate Lydia comfortably on certain topics. It was amazing and overwhelming at the same time!

“How are you really doing, Lydia?” asked Nosizwe. Lydia was quite prepared for this and was quick to answer “Everything is fine”, and before she could press further, went on to ask,

“How are you too? How are you coping with taking care of my brother and the kids?” She blew a kiss to Naomi and glanced at the boys running around the living room table.

“To be very honest with you it’s been tough, and then you know your brother now”. She teased. “The truth is nothing prepares you for the strain and stress of motherhood, but you should know also that nothing prepares you better for the world THAN motherhood”.

“How so?” Lydia asked.

Nosizwe smiled and said “Let us have dinner. We can talk all we want after that. I made your favourite by the way”.

Before she could utter another word, Naomi squealed and clapped her hands “I made her cook your favourite. I told her how you like your plantain fried and that you like your fried rice with plenty things mixed inside; carrot, shrimp and even cabbage” she rushed out in one breath. Lydia could not even remember having this conversation with her, but it was obvious Naomi is a special child, very compassionate and generous.

“Thank you, Naomi,” she smiled sweetly at her.

“And how’s Peter?” she asked with a wink hoping to get an embarrassed look from her and was not disappointed.

 “I told you, we’re just friends” Naomi blushed.

“Of course, darling, I wasn’t implying anything else” she said with another wink. Once, Peter, her classmate and neighbour from along the street, was down with the flu. Naomi had noticed his absence and asked the teacher of his whereabouts, the only person to have done that and the teacher was amazed. She set up a visit to Peter’s house and used some of her emergency cash to get him a juice pack, a card and lots of sweets. Her kind heart and courage are something everyone admires and most especially Lydia who had once lost faith in human empathy. It started with “What’s the point when the energy isn’t matched”, then eventually got to “I hate everybody”. Naomi reminds her of the innocence and love that is unconditional.

Lydia and her brother spent some time talking after dinner when she told him of her plans to embark on a journey of self-discovery. She honestly had not seen him happier before then. He was trying so hard to conceal his excitement, but she could see clearly beneath his weak façade.

“What’s changed?” he asked solemnly. He has always been able to maintain a cool composure. Now rounder in the middle, thanks to his darling wife, he was still as handsome as ever with the wrinkles of worry in his eyes for his baby sister.

“I was tired of being angry and called angry I guess” she said calmly.

“So, what’s the plan? I believe you have one?” he asked. She walked away from him back into the living room. They had been sitting at the dining table after dinner.

“Not really. I’m confused” she said.

“You should talk to my wife” he suggested. “I know you aren’t best of friends, but I’m confident she’s the right person to talk to, the perfect guide”

“Alright. I’ll go talk to her”. She said. “If she’s this happy and respected in her home, then she’s doing something right” she thought. “Thank you big bro”

“Not a problem. I’ll leave you two to talk”

“As soon as I make a call through to Rumi, I’ll go in to talk to her”

“Take care sis” he said and left.

Lydia felt tight knots in her belly; she was tense for some weird reason. Rumi, her best friend for over 2 years, had a way of calming her nerves, and she needed to tap some energy and support from her. After the third ring with no response, Lydia realised she was on her own.

“Knock knock, can I come in?”

“Sure, why not” Nosizwe said and sat up from bed. “It’s time for that conversation I believe?”

“Yes” said Lydia as she tiptoed in and stood still in the middle of the large room. The bedroom was surprisingly cozy for its large size and it was furnished with taste (Nosizwe’s doing), and weird art pieces hung on the wall, (definitely her brother’s doing). The king-sized mattress wrapped in a sparkling all white bed set, made Nosizwe look smaller than she was.

Nosizwe urged Lydia to sit on the bed next to her and slid her MacBook away as they settled comfortably. Lydia was hesitant and really guarded about their conversation. When Nosizwe noticed this, she started to make small talk to get her relaxed, giving way for Lydia to quickly take her through the history of how everything started. She wants to know what it takes to be an ideal woman and the sacrifices that must be made to be a proud one. She wants answers to the many misfortunes that seem to overwhelm a woman and most especially, why Nosizwe, an obviously intelligent and smart woman had decided to settle as a housewife. Nosizwe laughed hard at the last question. “I can’t answer all your questions tonight Lydia” she started. “But I’ll try. Let me start with a story. “Once upon a time, before the several postmodern ideologies and theories, the misinterpretations of roles and misconceptions of values and worth, before the unnecessary complications of womanhood and her identity, there lived a great woman, mother and warrior. Woman because her very essence was life to all. Mother, because she birthed the king and legacy that will rule the world. Warrior, because she fought and survived the harbingers of evil and false doctrines, and identified and conquered a virus deadlier than Covid-19 – a virus that resides in the heart of several, hers as well. She rose above the natural state of mediocrity, laxity and insecurities, and established herself as a force to be reckoned with. That woman was called Abike. She is my mentor and her wisdom and fighting spirit is one of the major reasons I can talk to you right now. The provocations surrounding womanhood can’t be answered through a sole question, in a day, or even a lifetime, but a solid foundation and understanding is sure possible.”

Lydia looked through her window for the zillionth time. Her patience had worn thin. She was guaranteed to be late if her Uber driver failed on their agreed time. She frantically put on her shoes as she dialled his number again, and when the call connected, she went straight into thug mode.

Lydia looked through her window for the zillionth time. Her patience had worn thin. She was guaranteed to be late if her Uber driver failed on their agreed time. She frantically put on her shoes as she dialed his number again, and when the call connected, she went straight into thug mode.

“What is the meaning of all this? My App says you would be here in 7 minutes and you also confirmed it but somehow, you are lost in the streets. If you are not ready for this trip, cancel and let me order another ride!” she barked at him.

“I’m sorry please, I missed a turn and had to ask for directions, you’ll see me soon.” he said.

“I don’t know the use of their GPS map or whatever it is called” she muttered under her breath as she picked up her bag and phone to leave. Lydia has never been one to show up late for appointments no matter how informal they were, and especially not to Family. She had promised her brother she would visit him and his family this weekend.

“You’re so close, yet so far away” he had complained over the phone. She had run out of excuses and accepted to go spend some time with them. His wife Nosizwe was too amazing to be true, a full-time housewife, but the couple preferred the term ‘Corporate Homemaker’. On no account can the 32-year-old stellar Accountant be accused of not doing a terrific job with whatever she sets her mind to do. Although Lydia does not understand how someone so intelligent and smart has denied her industry of her skills and potentials and resigned to wife and mummy duties for the better part of eight years and counting. Nosizwe, the calm and collected light skinned beauty that turned heads anytime of the day. A yummy mummy of 3! She had reignited her passion for culinary art two years ago, initially sharing recipes with just friends but, with the inflow of encouraging reviews especially from her husband, she took it to the next level and began a food blog that soon took a life of its own. 

Lydia could not wrap her mind around any woman, especially the learned and well read, subjecting herself to the torture of being a housewife, when there’s money to be made. “God forbid I am dependent on any man. It can never be me” she thought. She would rather not have that conversation with her sister-in-law for fear of exposing her ignorance or being emotionally reactive, and that was one of the reasons Lydia kept away.

Her niece Naomi was another case entirely. Just seven years old, she could educate Lydia comfortably on several topics. It was amazing and overwhelming at the same time!

She soon arrived at her destination and to her impression, the driver proved himself smart, in both his communication and navigation. She bade him goodbye and headed in, she must have bid the sun as well as it sunk below the calm horizon.

                                                *******************************                                             

“How are you really doing, Lydia?” asked Nosizwe. Lydia was quite prepared for this and was quick to answer, “Everything is fine”, and before she could press further, went on to ask,

“How are you too? How are you coping with taking care of my brother and the kids?” She blew a kiss to Naomi and glanced at the boys running around the living room table.

“To be very honest with you it’s been tough, and then you know your brother now”. She teased. “The truth is nothing prepares you for the strain and stress of motherhood, but you should know also that nothing else prepares you better for the world THAN motherhood”

“How so?” Lydia asked.

Nosizwe smiled and said “Let us have dinner. We can talk all we want after that. I made your favourite by the way”.

Before she could utter another word, Naomi squealed and clapped her hands “I made her cook your favourite. I told her how you like your plantain fried and that you like your fried rice with plenty things mixed inside; carrot, shrimps and even cabbage” she rushed out in one breath. Lydia could not even remember having this conversation with her, but it was obvious Naomi is a special child, very compassionate and generous.

“Thank you, Naomi,” she smiled sweetly at her.

“And how’s Peter?” she asked with a wink hoping to get an embarrassed look from her and was not disappointed.

 “I told you, we’re just friends” Naomi blushed.

“Of course, darling, I wasn’t implying anything else” she said with another wink. Once, Peter, her classmate and neighbour from along the street, was down with the flu. Naomi had noticed his absence and asked the teacher of his whereabouts, the only person to have done that and the teacher was amazed. She set up a visit to Peter’s house and used some of her emergency cash to get him a juice pack, a card and lots of sweets. Her kind heart and courage is something everyone admires and most especially Lydia who had once lost faith in human empathy. It started with “What’s the point when the energy isn’t matched”, then eventually got to “I hate everybody”. Naomi reminds her of the innocence and love that is unconditional.

Lydia and her brother spent some time talking after dinner when she told him of her plans to embark on a journey of self-discovery. She honestly had not seen him happier before then. He was trying so hard to conceal his excitement, but she could see clearly beneath his weak façade.

“What’s changed?” he asked solemnly. He has always been able to maintain a cool composure. Now rounder in the middle, thanks to his darling wife, he was still as handsome as ever with the wrinkles of worry in his eyes for his baby sister.

“I was tired of being angry and called angry I guess” she said calmly.

“So, what’s the plan? I believe you have one?” he asked. She walked away from him back into the living room. They had been sitting at the dining table after dinner.

“Not really. I’m confused” she said.

“You should talk to my wife” he suggested. “I know you aren’t best of friends, but I’m confident she’s the right person to talk to, the perfect guide”

“Alright. I’ll go talk to her”. She said. “If she’s this happy and respected in her home, then she’s doing something right” she thought. “Thank you big bro”

“Not a problem. I’ll leave you two to talk” he replied.

“As soon as I make a call through to Rumi, I’ll go in to talk to her”

“Take care sis” he said and left.

Lydia felt tight knots in her belly; she was tense for some weird reason. Rumi, her best friend for over 2 years, had a way of calming her nerves, and she needed to tap some energy and support from her. After the third ring with no response, Lydia realised she was on her own.

“Knock knock, can I come in?”

“Sure, why not” Nosizwe said and sat up from bed. “It’s time for that conversation I believe?”

“Yes” said Lydia as she tiptoed in and stood still in the middle of the large room. The bedroom was surprisingly cozy for its large size and it was furnished with taste (Nosizwe’s doing), and weird art pieces hung on the wall, (definitely her brother’s doing). The king-sized mattress wrapped in a sparkling all white bed set, made Nosizwe look smaller than she was.

Nosizwe urged Lydia to sit on the bed next to her and slid her MacBook away as they settled comfortably. Lydia was hesitant and really guarded about their conversation. When Nosizwe noticed this, she started to make small talk to get her relaxed, giving way for Lydia to quickly take her through the history of how everything started. She wants to know what it takes to be an ideal woman and the sacrifices that must be made to be a proud one. She wants answers to the many misfortunes that seemed to overwhelm a woman and most especially, why Nosizwe, an obviously intelligent and smart woman had decided to settle for Housewifery. Nosizwe laughed hard at the last question. “I can’t answer all your questions tonight Lydia” she started. “But I’ll try. Let me start with a story. “Once upon a time, before the several postmodern ideologies and theories, the misinterpretations of roles and misconceptions of values and worth, before the unnecessary complications of womanhood and her identity, there lived a great woman, mother and warrior. Woman because her very essence was life to all. Mother, because she birthed the king and legacy that will rule the world. Warrior, because she fought and survived the harbingers of evil and false doctrines and identified and conquered a virus deadlier than Covid-19- a virus that resides in the heart of several, hers as well. She rose above the natural state of mediocrity, laxity, and insecurities, and established herself as a force to be reckoned with. That woman was called Abike. She is my mentor and her wisdom and fighting spirit is one of the major reasons I can talk to you right now. The provocations surrounding womanhood can’t be answered through a sole question, in a day, or even a lifetime, but a solid foundation and understanding is sure possible.”

Lydia looked through her window for the zillionth time. Her patience had worn thin. She was guaranteed to be late if her Uber driver failed on their agreed time. She frantically put on her shoes as she dialled his number again, and when the call connected, she went straight into thug mode.

“What is the meaning of all this? The App said you would be here in seven minutes and you also confirmed it but somehow, you are lost in the streets. If you are not ready for this trip, cancel and let me order another ride!” She barked at him.

“I’m sorry please, I missed a turn and had to ask for directions, you’ll see me soon.” he said.

“I don’t know the use of their GPS map or whatever it is called” she muttered under her breath as she picked up her bag and phone to leave. Lydia has never been one to show up late for events no matter how informal they were, and especially not when she had promised her brother, she would visit him and his family this weekend.

“You’re so close, yet so far away” he had complained over the phone. She had run out of excuses and accepted to go spend some time with them. His wife Nosizwe was too amazing to be true, a full-time housewife, but the couple preferred the term ‘Corporate Homemaker’. On no account can the 32-year-old stellar Accountant be accused of not doing a terrific job with whatever she set her mind to do. Although Lydia does not understand how someone so intelligent and smart has denied her industry her skills and potentials, instead resigning to wife and mummy duties for the better part of six years and counting. Nosizwe, the calm and collected light skinned beauty that turned heads anytime of the day. A yummy mummy of 3! She had reignited her passion for culinary art two years ago, initially sharing recipes with just friends but, with the inflow of encouraging reviews especially from her husband, she took it to the next level and began a food blog that has soon taken a life of its own. 

Lydia could not wrap her mind around any woman, especially the learned and well read, subjecting herself to the torture of being a housewife, when there’s money to be made. “God forbid she is dependent on any man. It can never be her” she thought. She would rather not have that conversation with her sister-in-law for fear of exposing her ignorance or being emotionally reactive, and that was one of the reasons Lydia kept away. Her niece Naomi was another case entirely. Just seven years old, she could educate Lydia comfortably on certain topics. It was amazing and overwhelming at the same time!

“How are you really doing, Lydia?” asked Nosizwe. Lydia was quite prepared for this and was quick to answer “Everything is fine”, and before she could press further, went on to ask,

“How are you too? How are you coping with taking care of my brother and the kids?” She blew a kiss to Naomi and glanced at the boys running around the living room table.

“To be very honest with you it’s been tough, and then you know your brother now”. She teased. “The truth is nothing prepares you for the strain and stress of motherhood, but you should know also that nothing prepares you better for the world THAN motherhood”.

“How so?” Lydia asked.

Nosizwe smiled and said “Let us have dinner. We can talk all we want after that. I made your favourite by the way”.

Before she could utter another word, Naomi squealed and clapped her hands “I made her cook your favourite. I told her how you like your plantain fried and that you like your fried rice with plenty things mixed inside; carrot, shrimp and even cabbage” she rushed out in one breath. Lydia could not even remember having this conversation with her, but it was obvious Naomi is a special child, very compassionate and generous.

“Thank you, Naomi,” she smiled sweetly at her.

“And how’s Peter?” she asked with a wink hoping to get an embarrassed look from her and was not disappointed.

 “I told you, we’re just friends” Naomi blushed.

“Of course, darling, I wasn’t implying anything else” she said with another wink. Once, Peter, her classmate and neighbour from along the street, was down with the flu. Naomi had noticed his absence and asked the teacher of his whereabouts, the only person to have done that and the teacher was amazed. She set up a visit to Peter’s house and used some of her emergency cash to get him a juice pack, a card and lots of sweets. Her kind heart and courage are something everyone admires and most especially Lydia who had once lost faith in human empathy. It started with “What’s the point when the energy isn’t matched”, then eventually got to “I hate everybody”. Naomi reminds her of the innocence and love that is unconditional.

Lydia and her brother spent some time talking after dinner when she told him of her plans to embark on a journey of self-discovery. She honestly had not seen him happier before then. He was trying so hard to conceal his excitement, but she could see clearly beneath his weak façade.

“What’s changed?” he asked solemnly. He has always been able to maintain a cool composure. Now rounder in the middle, thanks to his darling wife, he was still as handsome as ever with the wrinkles of worry in his eyes for his baby sister.

“I was tired of being angry and called angry I guess” she said calmly.

“So, what’s the plan? I believe you have one?” he asked. She walked away from him back into the living room. They had been sitting at the dining table after dinner.

“Not really. I’m confused” she said.

“You should talk to my wife” he suggested. “I know you aren’t best of friends, but I’m confident she’s the right person to talk to, the perfect guide”

“Alright. I’ll go talk to her”. She said. “If she’s this happy and respected in her home, then she’s doing something right” she thought. “Thank you big bro”

“Not a problem. I’ll leave you two to talk”

“As soon as I make a call through to Rumi, I’ll go in to talk to her”

“Take care sis” he said and left.

Lydia felt tight knots in her belly; she was tense for some weird reason. Rumi, her best friend for over 2 years, had a way of calming her nerves, and she needed to tap some energy and support from her. After the third ring with no response, Lydia realised she was on her own.

“Knock knock, can I come in?”

“Sure, why not” Nosizwe said and sat up from bed. “It’s time for that conversation I believe?”

“Yes” said Lydia as she tiptoed in and stood still in the middle of the large room. The bedroom was surprisingly cozy for its large size and it was furnished with taste (Nosizwe’s doing), and weird art pieces hung on the wall, (definitely her brother’s doing). The king-sized mattress wrapped in a sparkling all white bed set, made Nosizwe look smaller than she was.

Nosizwe urged Lydia to sit on the bed next to her and slid her MacBook away as they settled comfortably. Lydia was hesitant and really guarded about their conversation. When Nosizwe noticed this, she started to make small talk to get her relaxed, giving way for Lydia to quickly take her through the history of how everything started. She wants to know what it takes to be an ideal woman and the sacrifices that must be made to be a proud one. She wants answers to the many misfortunes that seem to overwhelm a woman and most especially, why Nosizwe, an obviously intelligent and smart woman had decided to settle as a housewife. Nosizwe laughed hard at the last question.

“I can’t answer all your questions tonight Lydia” she started. “But I’ll try. Let me start with a story. “Once upon a time, before the several postmodern ideologies and theories, the misinterpretations of roles and misconceptions of values and worth, before the unnecessary complications of womanhood and her identity, there lived a great woman, mother and warrior. Woman because her very essence was life to all. Mother, because she birthed the king and legacy that will rule the world. Warrior, because she fought and survived the harbingers of evil and false doctrines, and identified and conquered a virus deadlier than Covid-19 – a virus that resides in the heart of several, hers as well. She rose above the natural state of mediocrity, laxity and insecurities, and established herself as a force to be reckoned with. That woman was called Abike. She is my mentor and her wisdom and fighting spirit is one of the major reasons I can talk to you right now. The provocations surrounding womanhood can’t be answered through a sole question, in a day, or even a lifetime, but a solid foundation and understanding is sure possible.”

By the morning of her lunch date with Rumi, Lydia had developed cold feet. She was not sure anymore, if she was ready to undergo such a rigorous journey of learning, unlearning and re-learning. She doubted in her ability to articulate her thoughts, and most especially, why she was always angry. She called her friend with the hope that she would cancel.

“Hello Rumi”

“Hey, voice of women!” Rumi teased sounding too energetic for Lydia’s liking; she was already losing this battle.

“Are we still up for 2pm” she asked soberly

“Definitely! picking what to wear as we speak” Rumi said.

“Alright dear, see you then” a defeated Lydia responded.

Lydia met with Rumi at the nearby bistro, their usual chill-spot. They served the best healthy and balanced meals and played soft jazz from seven in the evening. Rumi had chosen the serene, green coloured rooftop to avoid interruptions and facilitate a smooth thinking process. The owner took into detailed consideration, the aesthetics of things. The natural green colour creating a relaxed atmosphere in the restaurant makes the customers calm and encourages them to stay just a while longer.

“So, first things first babe, what exactly are we doing” Lydia asked

“I believe we’re on a journey, a road to discovery, to identify who exactly the ideal woman is and how you and I can become that woman” Rumi said. It must be the ambience; her thoughts are suddenly more organised. She went on. “We have been sold different narratives; the ideal woman as a full-time housewife versus the independent boss lady who needs nobody, how we’re sitting ducks for an evil patriarchal society. What is the origin of our insecurities, why we are perceived as angry and complicated, and what are the true intentions of feminists? That is what we need to uncover”.

“I understand you babe. Truth is, I kinda ask these questions myself, but I am always torn between what my feelings are and what the facts are. We need to be able to see clearly without any bias, lest we fall into the traps some others have fallen into. In the end, women need help, and no one is going to help us but us” said Lydia.

“Yes, yes, I totally agree! We also must do away with every form of anger, however just or valid, and toss the mentality of us as victims”. Rumi added. “It’s safe to say we are on this quest to help the woman discover and understand herself fully. What her roles are, what she should aspire to be at every level, and how she should live up to her fullest potential”.

“Wow, just wow. That is incredibly beautiful to hear out loud and very scary as well. Do we even know what to do and how to go about anything at all?” Lydia said.

“Well, we can’t know if we don’t try”. Rumi said with a smile, already excited by the challenge.

Lydia took a sip from her cocktail and observed Rumi quietly. She is such a beautiful creature, God definitely used a special kind of clay to mould her. A fast-rising fashion model, who has graced a few runways and posed for some high profile names. She was always ready to turn heads. Daring but reserved, savvy and yet still naïve. She has had her fair share of boys and heartbreaks, nursed trust issues and insecurities, doubted her abilities and stumbled a bit along the way but she’s been opportune to meet the right mentors at the right time and is now gaining clarity. They had clicked from the get-go and she was glad to have her as a friend and mentor almost.

“Where do we start from, Rumi?

“There’s someone I’ll like you to meet, and don’t give me that look! SHE is amazing.  How is everything man with you this girl?” She said amidst laughter. “You will absolutely love her.

“Who is she?” Lydia asked

“Drum roll!!!!” Rumi made a weird beat with her mouth “It is no other than my beautiful superwoman, heroine and mentor, wait forrit, Imani!!!!

“Oh no!!” Lydia groaned and facepalmed almost immediately. “not again”. Rumi since she stumbled upon Imani on Instagram will not shut up about her newfound obsession. It was Imani this, Imani that.

Rumi feigned hurt and made to leave but Lydia rose quickly to block her exit “Ahan, okay okay, I’m sorry boo, I’m listening. Tell me about your wonder woman. Again.”

“Don’t worry darling, you’ll meet her yourself soon. She is organising a meet and greet soon so I can get access for two. You need to listen to her. She is an embodiment of wisdom and I’m sure she’ll lead us in the right direction” Rumi said.

“I can’t wait then” Lydia beamed. “Although I wished it were a fine boy instead, you know the ones – tall, light skinned…”

“Meet me at home mama, you can daydream all day if you want” Rumi said on her way out while Lydia chased after her.

Do you know there are still uninhabited portions of the earth?

We discover new and amazing things about our planet and how it works every single day. There are many life forms on the earth but, only man due to his higher cognitive power, has been given the mandate to be her custodian. It is only right therefore that we show ourselves to be responsible and take proper care of the place we inhabit.

It is prudent that we reflect on the necessary interdependence existing between human beings, other living species, and our planet, and why it is essential to promote harmony between ourselves and the ecosystems that provide us with life and sustenance for the years to come. Protecting the earth should be your business, and not just the responsibility of governments and agencies. We must show personal responsibility in our little corners.

The basic way we show our care and concern for what has been given us, is to be disciplined enough to do the right things in every place we find ourselves. We must show proactiveness by preventing further deterioration of an earth which has undergone so much negative change already. We must heed mother earth’s glaring warning in various happenings such as the increased prevalence of natural disasters like floods and hurricanes, the springing up of new zoonotic diseases and its impact on human health, and the well-spoken about climate change.

It is estimated that around one million animal and plant species are now threatened with extinction!!!!!

If we keep going on with life as we currently do, the earth’s temperatures would rise to alarming levels with far more serious consequences. The projections by the authorising bodies should the global temperatures rise include;

• Insects, vital for pollination of crops and plants, are likely to lose half their habitat at 1.5°C but this becomes almost twice as likely at 2°C.
• The Arctic Ocean being completely bare of sea ice in summer, would be a once per century likelihood at 1.5°C, but this leaps to a once a decade likelihood at 2°C.
• Over 6 million people currently living in coastal areas are vulnerable to a sea level rise at 1.5°C degrees, and at 2°C this would affect 10 million more people by the end of this century.
• Sea-level rise will be 100 centimeters higher at 2°C than at 1.5°C.
• The frequency and intensity of droughts, storms and extreme weather events are increasingly likely above 1.5°C.

With the situation all but set to get worse, we must act now and fast to rectify and mitigate the damage to ourselves and future. The answer lies in shifting to a more sustainable economy that works for both people and the planet. Achieving a balance among the economic, social and environmental needs of the present and future generations of humanity is crucial. 

The seemingly litter things do matter. By placing refuse in bins and garbage collection sites instead of littering the roadside and gutters, or dumping waste and chemicals in water bodies, us as individuals show our care for the earth. By making use of the urinals and toilets instead of open defaecation, we play our part. Conserving water by using just the amount we need when needed, switching off light bulbs and appliances not in use, reusing and recycling what is possible, donating property that is still usable, and even planting trees and keeping a garden are all helpful to the cause and should be encouraged within families and the society.

 As organisations such as the UN, UNESCO and green energy corporations continue working to tackle the global problems involving pollution, and steer governments towards making policies that ensure affordable, cleaner and healthier energy sources, let’s all chip our quota to make these a reality and preserve our home.