Rolayo's Journal is the very interesting story of a young lady. It's a journal that showcases what she passes through- the fun times, the not-so-fun times, the temptations and the trials of her every day life. It's a journal being kept for her unborn child who she plans to call-"Kikelomo"....It's being featured on this blog occasionally on Tuesdays. Just incase you missed the last journal entry you could catch up HERE
Here's the 30th journal entry...Enjoy!
Title: "The Girl Within"
My Mum and I were on our way to church some weeks ago, she was driving (I still don’t drive- Lord have mercy!!!!), when some crazy silly human beings came onto the road. We were on our own when one okada man and his passenger turned onto a major road in high speed without checking to see if the road was clear. I think they had just smoked some brand of weed or something. Mscheew.
So when they just poked their motorbike into the road, Mummy pressed her horn down, and slammed the brakes and gave them a “look”. Me I was beside her, shouting, “ shey you can’t see ni??!!”, “abi there is something wrong with you?!” and all that (by the way, the windows were wound up all this while). To my fury, the two people on the okada started pointing at us too and shouting something like, “Shey you noh get sense?!”. It was like they poured hot water on my body. Chhaaaiii!. They now started fighting for the road with us oo- I say those people wanted to kill themselves on the road that day, what rubbish na.
So Mummy was there in the driver’s seat trying to control the wheels and stuff... I was there shouting through the wound up glass, pointing at my head (you dey craze?!) and stretching out my hand and spreading out my fingers (waka)... The passenger of the okada man now started raising up something he was holding, as if to say ,”I will break the window and break your face.” I won’t lie, fear disturbed me small when he did that, but trust me, I was still pressing ‘P’.
When we finally left them behind, I started to laugh at myself. The whole scenario was just silly. At least I could have put the window down and done all the drama- SMH. The whole thing was really funny because I had gone and done stuff I wouldn’t normally do if I was in my normal “controlled” state of mind. But there I was, genuinely aggressive. Then I realized it was because they were insulting my Mum, amongst other things. Then I realized that we had been in a similar situation before, not on the roads, but just a confrontation of some kind, and the person involved was beginning to get rude with her. I just can’t take it when anyone wants to behave stupidly towards her. Not like I can really do anything major about it- I would probably get beaten.. LoL. Plus, she totally can take care of it- I don’t even know why I get worked up.
It’s becoming clear to me that it’s because I deeply care for her. If anyone hurt her, it’s like the person hurt me also- that kind of thing. I love her so much, that there is an intuitive reaction to defend and protect her, in anyway I can. It’s one of those things that I find really difficult to control. Maybe I’m talking about her because we had the second or third Mother’s Day last week- I don’t know. I have a a handful of wonderful mothers in my life, but she is, and always will be the first and best to me, and for me.
I wish I had appreciated her the way I should have right from the beginning. It feels like I have a lot of accumulated gratitude to show her- but I think she knows now that I was just being stupid and self-centered for not seeing how beautiful and wonderful she has always been.
Don’t get me wrong, we have our moments of disagreements and stuff. In fact, of all the people on the planet earth, I think she is the one person I have “fought” with the most. Probably because she sees beyond all of my fronting, to the girl within- the girl who needs a lot of help, and to the girl who can be full of crap sometimes, and to the girl who strongly desires to become a woman who will bless her world.
For the blessing of the perfect Mother for me, I am grateful to God.