How Worthy? - Part 1

The year was still young. It rained the night before so when my alarm beeped, I rolled lazily to the other side of the bed until I felt my body touch Funmi's. Funmi was my college roommate who had transitioned to being my roommate in our studio apartment after our service year. It was easy because we both knew ourselves and had gotten employment in different companies in the popularly known Lagos Island, located in the economic centre of Nigeria, Lagos, in the western part of Nigeria.


“We're just starting life. Ifeyinwa, we can manage together until we have a bigger space.” She had told me the evening I asked her again about renting a space together.


I woke Funmi up that morning when I came out of the bathroom: A dry yellow patch had appeared beside my lips. Funmi said it was eczema and opened her bedside drawer to pull out her Epiderm cream for me to use until I could see a Doctor. 


My makeover easily hid it and I didn't bother. When I snuck out into the canteen amid work to call my Jide, I heaved. 

Snapping open my iPhone XR, I opened my WhatsApp and dialled.  Our chats were pinned so I didn't search. 


Hi, Pretty face, his smooth voice came on before I could get my earplugs. Luckily, I was alone in the canteen. I told Jide everything that happened every day. Some days, I would talk until I felt talkative, and then I would suddenly stop talking and smile at everything else. 

Let's see at our favourite restaurant this evening, he said calmly. He looked tense and as much as I tried to make him smile, I failed.


Today, I feel so relieved. I love weekends. Always. The patches were gradually spreading across my face in tiny and big patches. I was tired. In between work, I kept surfing the internet to know what I could do to stop the patches from spreading further. I relaxed a bit on Friday evenings, and sometimes watched a movie with Funmi but today was different. A lump formed in my throat that I couldn't swallow. Jidenna as I fondly called him had called to say he was coming.


Jidenna's call made me jerk. He was at the door and had been knocking for a while. I didn't hear his knock. He brought apples. I wasn't sure of how to feel but he held my hands and told me he was right there. I saw his sincerity in his eyes, but my head refused to accept it this time. 

I knew he meant it but I looked away. I couldn't look at him now. It wasn't enough that we had been together for one year. Three weeks ago, he had been tense because he wasn't sure what I would say about his proposal. Today, I don't feel worthy of his proposal anymore.


 Jidenna was cool and calm, although he was nothing like the rich Christian tech bro I fantasized in my head but he was cool. The fantasy that Funmi laughed to scorn. Jidenna stood tall at 5 ft11”, dark-skinned, smart, and Christian. 


When he first asked for friendship, he had brought chocolate waffles and yoghurt as a friendship pact. I liked that he was gentle and kind. I remember smiling broadly at first when he gave me the waffles and yoghurt and then burst into laughter which made him smile. 


Three weeks ago when he had asked me to marry him, I felt the cool breeze of the evening rush up to my face as we sat on a wood at the bank of Kuramo waters. My heart thumped. I didn't tell Jidenna that I had been praying about us, about everything.

I'll wait for some weeks so that I can pray and give you an answer. I said.

He nodded. He didn't fight it. He vested so much peace that made me wonder if anything could hurt him.


Today, a thick silence hung over us. He didn't try to say anything but he held me close, his phone playing Lauren Daigle's You Say I am Strong. 

I just let the tears roll. 

I didn't think I understood what people meant when they said life is dynamic until I had to deal with what the Doctor diagnosed as Vitiligo coming to alter my face appearance just out of the blues.


Would Jidenna still want me? What if nobody agrees to marry me? All along, I had been worried about turning 30 and still single in a few months but now it was beyond that, the panic of clocking 30 with a distorted face made the tears shake my body. Jidenna rocked my back and let my tears pour on his shirt as he held me close.


Yesterday evening, when I strolled to our tiny balcony to bask in the view of our street, I heard the neighbours talking about how termed whole people hadn't found a husband and not to talk of someone with a white and black face. I had cringed and quietly pulled out my earplugs so that I could listen to a sermon. I didn't care that I now wanted to listen to a sermon to block my ears from the harsh criticism. I didn't care about so many things lately.


In the coming days, I will get tired of wearing makeup everyday and getting different advice from people. 

But Jidenna held me close and refused to let go. We'll weather this storm together, he said.

I nodded. But I wasn't sure. I trusted my scars more than I now did his love. 

30 loomed so close.

Where do I go from here?


 

From: The Journey of a Waiting Girl Series

#ThrivingWhileWaiting #TheJourney #TheJourneyOfAWaitingGirl #thejourneyisthedestination💗


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