The Next Chapter

I knew I was going to graduate with a First class honours degree in Mass Communication the moment I stepped my feet into the university and I did.

As I rode on the back of the bike, I could feel the sun rays toasting my skin mercilessly. The air was humid, suffocating, and though I tried to enjoy the ride, it only made my eyes water. I closed my eyes taking in the sounds of the city as we weaved through the traffic.

Just when I was beginning to relax, I felt a rip in the seam of my trouser and I knew it was about to tear apart. Panic stricken, I quickly signaled to the bike man to stop. I got off the bike carefully, folding my right leg and dragging it across the seat to avoid any premium embarrassment. I assessed the damage between my thighs and though it was bad, I figured I could manage. I could not help but curse under my breath.

As I walked on, my mind wandered and I started to think about my life after university.

“What if I had pursued my makeup business or gotten into another lucrative business?”

“Why had I not thought about life after university?"

I had been so obsessed with getting good grades and bagging a first class degree that I had not thought about what I wanted to do with my life after university. Everyone expects that one’s service year is when you put everything together but then all of my energy is consumed hustling, so where do I get the strength to be creative?

These thoughts buzzed so rapidly in my head that I almost tripped over a stone. Taking that as my cue to stay focused, I quickly regained my balance and continued walking, trying to think happier thoughts.

My idle right hand automatically reached into my purse to pull out my phone and I scrolled through my messages. I saw Emeka’s name and my heart sank. He had sent me a well-detailed message about how he could not be in this long-distance relationship anymore, because of how up tight and boring I was. It hurt to read those words, but I knew that it was for the best. My mother would have never approved of me marrying an Igbo Man, not that I was thinking of getting married to him anyway.

“Corper, your pant is showing o”, a lady says tapping me on the shoulder as if everyone in the vicinity did not hear her loud and clear. I felt my face flush with embarrassment as I quickly moved closer to the road and tried to hail a tricycle. I don't know how I planned to walk that long distance without people noticing. It would have been impossible. The problems of having thick thighs.

I get into the tricycle without even asking for the fare and I secretly pray that the driver would not overcharge me simply because I am a Corps Member.

I quickly open my phone’s notebook to write about what just happened. It would definitely look good in my next book. I stumble across a poem I wrote a while ago,

In her 20’s she walks the winding way,

With wonder and worry warring each day,

The future is a fickle flame,

Flickering faintly with fortune’s game.

The path is plagued with perils and pain,

But perseverance pushes her forward again,

For she knows that in depths of despair,

Destiny dances, daring her to dare.

The journey is a jumble of joy and jive,

With jarring jilts that make her strive,

Yet she stumbles not, but strides and sings,

A melody of might that music brings.

The obstacles are obnoxious, but she is obstinate,

And overcomes them with an optimistic state,

For every failure is a fleeting fate,

And fortitude will help her find her ultimate weight.

So she soldiers on with a soulful spirit,

And surges forward with a steadfast merit.

For she knows that in the end she will succeed,

With strength, smarts and a selfless creed.

I looked up when I reached the end of the poem hoping to bask in the beauty of the poem I brought to life and I saw us approaching the University of Jos’ Main Campus gate but that is the last thing I saw before seeing Ayoku’s familiar pretty face. She stretched out her hand to pick me up. God knows how much I’d missed her but before I placed my hand into her soft palm, I pondered within myself. Did she not leave us two years ago?