A lot of situations put me in an awkward spot, mainly because I'm antisocial and gatherings or engaging with strangers, people I'm not used to makes me uneasy. I start to feel uncomfortable in my own skin, question myself and act like it's my first time being a human.
For instance, the first time I went to Isoke's class to spend my free period. Everyone was looking at me, my mind made it feel like they were boring holes into my head. Whenever they whispered and laughed my heart clenched as if it was directed at me. And even when I got to where she was with her friends, the topics of discussion were not in my field.
I always found myself silent in the background, murmuring to whomever will hear or just pretending to be doing something else in order to hide my awkward self.
That's what makes Fridays the second day I despise the most. My heart beats in fear of being put in a situation I can never get used to. Worship.
Every first period on Friday in my school is allocated for mandatory worship. The seniors comb through all the classes to ensure that no one skips it, even those who do not believe in God and aren't Christian are forced to attend.
During this time I'm sitting with unknown people who probably have friends, laughing about who knows what and distracting themselves from the singing of praises going on.
It makes my wrist itch, and so I start rubbing the spot aggressively.
When my eyes find my two friends at the back of the large auditorium I suddenly wish we weren't fighting so that I could go to them for comfort. I scratch my soft skin even harder.
When my eyes fall on the group of my class girls sitting in the front, chattering, clapping, smiling, being normal it makes everything worse. It makes the feeling that I should just disappear engulf me.
It's my poor skin I take it out on.
I struggle to take deep breaths as it feels like the room is suffocating me.
A hand touches my fingers that were busy injuring my skin. "Stop it! You're drawing blood."
The mention of blood brought the attention of the people sitting in front of me and her friends beside her to my red wrist.
"Blood? Whose blood? What's going on?"
All the eyes looking at me, the stares, whispers, it was just too much to handle. I closed my eyes wishing hard that I was in my safe place. My room, standing by the window while watching the clouds.
"Relax, breathe...breathe," A very soothing voice said but when I opened my eyes I saw no one's mouth moving.
So now I'm going crazy and delusional too.
"Mind your business," Rahila spat at the girls gossiping about me. Her eyes held so much disdain towards the people watching me instead of trying to do something to help as she dragged me away with her. I didn't complain while she did so.
I guess seeing me in distress was enough to make her acknowledge me again.
But did I want that? I don't want to feel indebted to her, I don't want to feel like because of this we automatically have to get back to being good friends again. It's not how it works, is it?
She roughly dropped my hand, motioning for me to sit down. Luckily we were at the very back of the auditorium where people who wanted peace and usually minded their business sat. And also the place where non-believers and people of other religions come to hide. Well in my society if you're not christian then you're a Muslim. There's no two ways about it.
A guy who I can never seem to remember his name turned to me for a second and casually said, "That's brutal."
"Mind your business, Usman abeg. Just dey face your front," Isoke said, rolling her eyes and crossing her legs.
I squeezed my eyes shut wishing that I didn't exist. My hands found their way to my sore skin again.
"Can't you stop doing that ehn? Why are you always portraying yourself as a weak, spineless damsel in need of rescuing? Just stop it because it's irritating me right now. I can't deal with this today. Man up!" said Rahila, sizing me up.
Mental health. It's of no importance in this country filled with ignorant people. What do they care about? Their own is to act as though you can just be fine. As though mental health illness of any sort is you exaggerating a simple matter.
It makes me question myself.
I looked away from her angry face as Isoke and another girl tried to get her to calm down.
"You can all be seated," Osmond Njoku, the senior house master for the boy's dormitory, spoke through the microphone. It was his voice only I could hear, I couldn't see his face from all the way back clearly.
"I'm going to spend just twenty minutes discussing a topic that I feel is paramount for kids of your generation to hear. As students it's important that you prepare yourself for this journey that is life. Which is why you're here, in this level and in this school as we shape you into better men and women who can be presented into the society," He started.
"Because it says in Psalm one hundred and thirty nine verse nine and ten; If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast," A few students jotted down the verse in their worship notepad, focusing aptly on every word that came out of his mouth.
It's a pity honestly that those who wrote things down were those considered in the school as too righteous and were openly made fun of because of their devotion to living by the principles of God. I know for a fact that almost eighty percent of the students in school are Christians but by mouth. Their actions are lacking.
It makes me wonder. How then can anyone be motivated to search for something deeper in God when there's a societal hindrance in doing so. I know of Janice who was a wild girl back in first and second year. After the passing of her father and sister she completely changed in our final year.
However she didn't receive warm congratulations from the students. They criticized her, made her an outcast, made her feel as though she wasn't better than them, made her feel like a fool for making such a decision. I'm sure that's what stops people from being serious, fear of what the others will say about them.
Instead they procrastinate saying that they would change when they're older. Why not enjoy the young life now and become one of those serious christian followers when they're older right? When they have nothing to lose.
And they call themselves christians.
Will such happen to me if I change suddenly?
"You're staring too hard," a hot breath tickled my lower ear as a deep voice spoke to me. I craned my neck a little to see Chijoke sitting beside me.
Chijoke Soyinka, popularly known as Lawal, just as his name implies is among the good looking boys of the school. He's the labor prefect, fit for the post and very easy-going. Because of this easy-going nature many girls flock towards him, misreading his politeness for interest. I prefer acknowledging him from afar as I'm not good at interacting with a lot of popular people even though I'm somewhat of one myself.
The last conversation we had was at the beginning of the term where he asked me how my break was to which I replied with a straight answer.
"I was thinking about something." I said, tiredly. After ten minutes of Osmond talking my interest had shifted and is now replaced with tiredness, the late night spent finally catching up to me as the fan blew directly above us.
"Care to share? Mister Njoku has done his thing again, almost everyone is doing their own thing now. It's because of courtesy that I'm not joining them."
"Aren't you the least bit interested in what he has to say?"
He shook his head, "I'd rather be somewhere else honestly."
Hmm.
"I was wondering how much time we have left before the first break. I'm extremely hungry," I lied.
Chijoke laughed under his breath, "You're one of those girls that don't joke with their food abi? I also don't joke about my food so I support you there." he pouted. "But we've got two hours of class before break. Sorry, you'll have to cancel that thought."
"Shouldn't you be supervising late comers to work right now?"
"The assistant can handle it, together with the CFM."
My brows creased in confusion.
"Common floor members. Oversabis."
To that I laughed.
For the remainder of the worship period Chijoke kept me company. His easy going nature had an effect on me, in the sense that I joked freely with him and even teased him a couple of times. My anxiety lessened, my fingers were no longer itching to scratch my wrist.
Soon we were saying grace and students began filing out of the auditorium.
"Is she leaving without us, again?" Rahila asked, still trying to put on her tough girl act.
I smiled. Sometimes it's pointless to drag certain matters. Besides, no matter what I think or what they do I can't disregard the fact that they've stuck with me from the beginning and look out for me when they can. "Of course not. I was just about to say bye to..."
I then saw Chijoke engaging with a group of girls. Oh well.
"Never mind. Let's go before Miss Ifunaya has my head for being late," I hooked my arm with the two of theirs. I'm in the middle while Isoke and Rahila are by my side.
"Chai, Hot physics this early morning. It's not good o." Isoke said.
"Binta!" A girl shouted my name. Looking at her long skirt below her knees as she approached us, I knew she was a member of the usher group or maybe an SU member. "Can we talk?"
The girls gave me questioning looks. I shook my head to let them know I knew nothing about this impromptu conversation with the usher I had never interacted with.
"We'll save you a seat at lunch," Rahila said. I watched the two girls get swept away by another group of people on their way out. They literally know everyone.
"I'm Theresa but my friends call me Tess or Tessa, you can call me any one of those."
Awkward situations.
"Binta."
She smiled, "I know. Anyways I was wondering if you'll be interested in joining the school choir."
"School choir? Why?" As far as I remember I've never shown interest in it and I rarely open my mouth to sing during praises and worship time. Why this question out of the blue?
"I hear you have a great voice. We need people like you singing for God, with us, for the school," she nudged me, "Come on, think about it yeah? We meet every Tuesday and sometimes after Friday worship."
I nodded.
"This is a sign from God."
I blinked. Once. Twice. "Huh?"
"I should've approached you a long time ago if not for certain things. I feel this is the right time. Here," she tore a small piece of paper from her notepad and wrote her number down. "Call me, text me. We can talk about anything. Just keep in touch."
I took the paper from her, staring at the numbers sprawled on it.
Are you out there?
The day dragged on without anything eventful happening. I was finally on good terms with my two friends, the tension left the moment we sat together for lunch and began gisting each other about the latest school drama.
When the closing bell rang I lingered to talk to one or two of my classmates and three junior girls who came my way gushing about my skin care routine and how I'm their favorite person out of all the students in my set.
The Principal's office is located at the main entrance of the senior block. It was structured this way so that he could easily keep an eye on us. The rest of the administration body were in a different building located at the center of the school.
It was at the entrance of his office that I saw my mother talking rapidly with my little sister, Lael. Lael looked unapologetic, a bored expression masked her face while my mother rambled on and on, her face threatening to turn red.
When I approached them it was only her final sentence I heard. "...Long talk, young lady. Go wait for me in the car."
"What's going on mom?" I asked.
"Why don't you ask your sister. The both of you in the car, now. I have to cover up this mess."
Lael didn't say anything till we were in the car. "I only told the truth."
"Which was?"
"Dad beats mom. Marriage is a sham, everyone should know it."
"What?!" I whipped my head sharply, "You told people about what dad does? Are you mad or just looking for a death wish?"
"Why do we have to hide it eh? I don't care."
"If dad hears about this you're in hot soup." I can't imagine what my mom is going to do to cover up her slip up.
"I thought maybe...maybe they'd help." I heard Lael mumble under her breath, looking at the children playing outside on the swing set.
She still doesn't get it. There are no good people left in this world, it's a 'face me I face you' kind of life we have to get used to.
When mom returned she slammed her door harshly, reversing the car with a jerk as we drove out of the school. She held onto the steering wheel so tightly as if it would hold back the storm brewing in her.
Through the rear view mirror I saw the sheen of tears lining her red eyes.
How long till she breaks?
Lael doesn't know how dad takes out our mistakes on her. She's crying because there's nothing she can do to stop him from hitting her because of her foolish action.
I went straight to my room once we got home, locking my room door to shut me out from the world.
I suddenly wished I had someone to talk to about the feelings in me. At least to make me feel better.
Dear God,
Do you understand the feeling of being sad after telling yourself it can't get worse than this? It's like I'm reliving the whole pain again and it's still fresh. What should I do? Cry? Curse the heavens and the universe? Run away? My life's an empty cycle that means nothing.
How I wish I was never born. You know, sometimes I can sit and daydream about what would've happened if I was born into a different family. A family with a loving mother whose purpose is to do everything her children want just so she can put a smile on their faces. A hard-working father who provides for his kids, takes care of his wife, prioritizes them and treats them like his world. I wish for all that.
Yeah, so I curse my life. I'm just waiting for something big to happen, I can feel it. The days seem slower lately. I can't wait to leave this house. I can't wait till I actually have the power to talk back to my dad, to take my family far away from here. But until then who's going to hold me together to keep me from falling apart.
I write to you because it feels therapeutic, it eases my mind. Do send me a response, I pay attention to every little detail now. What should I do to get closer to you? If you're out there I'd really like to interact with you without writing these corny letters.
Send me a sign(I think about Tessa.) Is she the one?
A lost soul,
Binta Sinobichukwu.
The letters are beginning to pile up in the can, making me feel silly writing them in the first place. It's been three days since that bird flew away with the first letter without coming back. I consider stopping, at this point it's just fun to do this for myself.
Droplets of water splash on my face.
In the next compound is Kenneth waving at me with a long hose in his hand.
"Hey!" He kept pointing the hose to the gate. Outside. He wants me to come out.
I bit my lip, contemplating if it's a good idea. Do I want to know him or let him remain a stranger like the many people who have tried to get closer to me.
What do I have to lose?