Freedom. It was something I had waited all my life to experience. However, the circumstances surrounding my birth however determined my faith even before I could speak.
My mum was an English woman that my dad met while doing his PhD program in London. They fell in love and she agreed to move with him to Nigeria. After five years of marriage without any child, my grandmother was already convincing my dad to take a new wife. She said the oyinbo blood that ran through my mother won’t let her conceive a child. Then I came. In the seventh year when my family was almost falling apart, my mum have birth to me, “a fragile girl who was prone to the evils of this world”, as my grandmother’s called me. She believed the village people had delayed my birth and now that I fought my way to my mother’s womb, there could still be attempts on my life.
So therefore, my parents refused to let me out of their sight. I was home schooled till I clocked twelve. Then I went to a day secondary school which my parents dropped and picked me up everyday, not just one of them, but both of them.
At that point, I knew my only escape from this loving, but otherwise still a prison, was my University days. So from my junior year, I had already began to tell my parents that I wanted to school at a federal University, an idea that took six whole years to convince them to agree to.
And here I was, alone for the first time in eighteen years. My own room and my own rules to abide by. Freedom. This was all I ever wanted.
That first night, I went with my friends to a party. I was so excited. The loud music, people dancing, drinking and having the time of their lives. These were things I only saw in the movies and here I was, actually living it.
But it turns out my grandma was right about the village people attempting to kill me, because the police raided the party later on. My friend said it was the first time, the police had ever raided a party she attended.
They bundled a few of us, me included and locked us in a cell. I had never been so scared in my life, so alone, I cried through the night into the next morning. The next day, my parents were at the station, and I was engulfed in a hug. A hug that I spent my whole life complaining about, was the only thing that offered me comfort.
I realised that freedom is it’s own bondage and maybe I just wasn’t ready for it.