Independence, also known as the state of being independent, was the name of the drug I had been craving since I gained admission into university.
I wanted to be independent so much that I spent the last few weeks before this encounter fighting for my precious independence. Silently! Yep, you read that right. I was fighting for my independence silently. The irony of it all! Now, I realise I never voiced my desire for independence. I just acted out. All for what? Because I wanted to make the commute to school alone?
Every time I make I trip to school, my mom goes with me. It was very embarrassing. I was finally in university yet my mom was following me to school. It was like I was demoted back to kindergarten. Not even secondary or primary school, I went back to Pampers level. I HATED it! I am sure my mom hated it too. I mean can you imagine just following your child up and down school campus?
I struggled with my sudden lack of independence because I had gotten a taste of my drug, only to have it snatched away. Yes, I had gotten a taste of the independence I wanted so badly. I had it once and it was suddenly snatched away.
How? You ask, How is it possible that a sixteen-year-old girl had gotten a taste of independence? Two words, boarding school. Yep, I spent six years living away from my parents for three terms, so I already felt pretty independent. Plus, I am very clumsy, so used to making messes and cleaning up after myself. Being Clumsy Fae, taught me how to handle things in a clutch.
However, the most important reason I struggled with the lack of independence, was because I had already gotten admission to Unilag and started attending classes on my own by the time I got my admission. Sorry if that was too confusing. Let me break it down.
My admission journey was not a smooth one, like many it was fraught with disappointment. I applied three times and got accepted twice, in the same school. My first try was while I was still in secondary school, I wanted to become an on-air personality so I was going to the University of Ilorin to study Mass Communication. Why UniIlorin you ask? Well, I had heard cool things about them, like how you could use your student ID to buy food and such things. Also, they weren’t part of ASSU so they didn’t go on strikes as often. But most schools in Nigeria prefer students to be 16 and above at the point of entry. I wasn’t, so I didn’t get in. That’s the reason I gave myself.
My second try was the following year; I was 16 so if I didn’t get in it was all my fault. I retook JAMB and put in for English at the University of Lagos because Mass Communication was very crowded and English was second best. The plan was to transfer to Mass Communication once I got admitted.
My third attempt was that same year, I applied through the Direct Entry stream to study Mass Communication at the same University of Lagos. This was before the results of my first admission into Unilag to study English arrived. 20k admission fee paid, a few classes and assignments into my direct entry journey, I found out I had been given admission to study English. My dad gives me two choices, study both or choose one. Like the lazy girl that I am, I chose the cheaper one. There was less pressure there.
Okay, you’re all caught up. You now understand why it was so hard to adjust to the new lack of independence. You now know why it was so annoying that my mom was following me to school once again. Yeah, it was nice that she got to meet all my friends but it was annoying to be the only one whose mom followed to school. Yes, she followed me to school when I first started my diploma courses, she joined the group of moms who wait for their children, they had a spot in my old faculty.
But now that I was processing another admission I didn’t see the need for it. We have already gone through this once already. But you see I can be very passive-aggressive, silently protesting instead of confronting the problem head-on and sharing how I feel about it. Instead of speaking up and saying I was old enough to go to school alone, I acted out like a year-old throwing a tantrum over a biscuit. That’s exactly what happened on this day.
You should know that my mom is not the overprotective type. She is that momma bird that throws her baby out of the nest so they can learn to fly by force. She always said if I were born in Hausa land I would be married with three children. While my mom wasn’t overprotective my dad was is. My dad is still overprotective it’s not like that has changed over the years.
Every time my mom complained about following me to school, my dad would convince her to accompany me for one reason or the other. The most annoying reason my dad ever gave her was that I sleep in cars. It is true, he’s not lying, which is what makes it annoying. Put me in a car and I promptly fall asleep. Sometimes Mom had to wake me when we got to our bus stop. I blame the motion that lulls me to sleep.
Dad feared that I would sleep off on the bus and they would carry me past my bus stop, which has never happened Dad! Fine, so it almost happened once, but the keyword is almost. Read episode 4 to find out all the tea. All I can say is God was kind to me.
In my defence, I was always surrounded by people I trusted. The few rides I did on my own, I didn’t fall asleep. Yeah, I dozed off but I didn’t sleep. Plus, it’s not like I can use my phone anyway so what was I to do but sleep? Yes, you read that right, I don’t use my phone on Danfo’s and other moving vehicles for two reasons. One, I suffer from a mild case of motion sickness and nausea (use a long dash here) the smell of petrol makes me nauseous. Two I was paranoid of getting my phone stolen on a bus. Well technically, my tablet. It was such a large device, that it attracted attention every time I pulled it out of my bag.
Besides, I was right to be paranoid, we’ve heard stories, multiple stories of people losing their phones on buses. Luckily for me in the five-plus years since I became a regular Danfo passenger, I have never had my phone stolen. I may have gotten my purse stolen years after the events of this episode, but that’s a story for another episode. Maybe the 6th or 10th episode.
So what exactly happened?
The day started just like any other day, Mom and I arrived at my dad's office then we strolled to the bus stop just a few meters away from his office. As we always do.
“I can do this on my own,” I thought as we waited for a bus to Yaba. “I am an independent lady, yet my mom still follows me to school every day.”
I stood beside my poor mother was seated on those wooden seats at bus stops, adjusting her shoe’s buckle. Completely unaware of my inner turmoil.
“Yaba! Yaba!” an obnoxious conductor called out as a Yaba bus rolled into the bus stop.
“Finally,” I mutter and jump into the rickety yellow contraption, thinking that Mom was right behind me. I was standing about to sit when I looked up, searching for my Mom.
“Fayo! Fayo!” I heard my name being called in that familiar angry tone. I look back at the bus stop and see my Mom still seated there calling my name. “Fayo, get down.”
What did I do? I sat my stubborn self on the uncomfortable wooden plank masquerading as seats and just stared at her in defiance, like the Wild Rebel that I am.
“I’m not getting down,” my entire face screamed. “I can do this on my own. Let me show you.”
I was determined to show my mom that I could do this without her. Maybe if my mom got the message then she could pass it on to Dad. Because my mom wasn't the issue my dad was. He was and still is to this day the most overprotective of the pair.
So many feelings coursed through my being as the bus rolled away from the stop. I will try to name them. Euphoria was front and centre, I did! I did it! Fear sat somewhere in the middle, there would be consequences for my actions, but at least I had a few hours before I had to face Mom again. And finally independence the sweet drug I had been craving since I gained admission into university.
I don’t know what my Mom did after I left her at the bus stop, I never had the guts to bring it up and I still don’t. So don't tell me to ask! I am hoping she's forgotten that day and she doesn't read this. LOL. But if I am to guess, she probably went back to my dad’s office to report me like Adam reported Eve to God. “See what this your daughter did to me.”
One bus later, I was in school. Riding on the high of independence, ignoring the fear and basking in the euphoria. But the day did not end there, as much as I wish it did.
I was so distracted trying to write my apology speech that I didn’t hear one word the lecturer of my first class spoke. But I never got the chance to give what would have been the best apology speech ever. Guess who calls me after my first class? 😂🤣😅Yep, you guessed it. The sexy woman I left at the bus stop, aka my mom. My very pissed-off Mom. I pick up the call expecting her to shout at me.
“I am in your school,” Her voice was very calm, there was no anger to be detected. “Come to that UBA park.”
I hurried to the spot she mentioned, with panic whirling in me. Was that calm hiding anger? What should I do when I see her? What should I say? I try to remember the words of heartfelt apology I didn’t have time to finish, but like the lyrics of a song I only heard once the words fled. It was a short walk from my faculty to the meetup spot so by the time I arrived there I still hadn’t figured out my next course of action. I didn't know what to do with myself I froze and just stared at her beautiful face. Talk about an awkward reunion.
At that moment, I didn’t feel like a wild rebel. All the feelings of euphoria and independence flew away and left only fear behind. Hot fear sliding through my veins. A new feeling joined the foray one that goes by the name shame. I was feeling very ashamed of myself.
Mom is also silent; she lets her glare do all the talking as she walks away. She took me to GT Bank and signed over my kiddie’s account. I was waiting close to the door while she finished up. Determined to be a better daughter going forward. I must have had one of those brain fart moments because tell me why I see my Mom walking out of the bank and I don’t get up to follow her. In my defence, I thought she was going to make a photocopy or something. She was giving me the silent treatment so she didn’t tell me she was done. And I just assumed she would be back. LOL. She was back alright, back to shout at me in front of everyone present about not following her out of the bank. I was trying her patience that day. Looking back, I probably wanted her to leave me in the bank so we could call it even. And so I didn’t have to endure the awkward bus rides home.
Whenever I think back to this day, I can’t help but wish 16-year-old Fae had been more crazy about being financially independent from Mom and Dad. Instead of whatever this drama was. LOL. Sadly, twenty-something-year-old Fae doesn’t get why this was such a big deal to 16-year-old Fae.
This is how Fae the wild rebel silently fought for my independence and started going to school alone. You just enjoyed my second wild Danfo adventure.
This is a nice one..😂😂