This Little Pocket Of Happiness

That nobody seems to tell you about.

The idea for this letter popped into my head as I did my dishes this morning.

I opened my eyes at 7:15am but I didn’t climb out of bed until around 8:45 and even then, I did it begrudgingly because if you leave things to me, I’d spend all day in bed.

I dragged my feet to the other side of my room and pushed open the blinds, allowing light to flood my previously dark room. The sun was already high up in the sky and I could feel the heat deliciously toast up my face. I stood there a while, enjoying the toasting, because I absolutely think the morning sun after a cold night is the only beautiful version of sun Lagos has. Anything after 9am, that flaming ball becomes a vicious monster.

I snatched the Sonos speaker my ex bought me when we were still very much in love and my phone, and made my way to the kitchen. I connected the speakers to Spotify and soon, ‘Before We Drown’ by Boerd took over my brain. As I sang along and cleaned the plates I used yesterday night, it hit me.

I am a woman, in her late 20s, barefoot in her kitchen, singing along to Boerd.

This may seem ordinary and mundane but hear me out. In many cases, nobody tells us (especially girls) about this seemingly mundane pocket of our lives.

Growing up, my mother referenced ‘going to husband house’ a lot. Everytime I slept in too long, she would burst into my room and ask me if this was how I intended to sleep like a cat in my husband’s house.

I accidentally burned a meal? - “Hauwa, is this what you will give your husband to eat?”

I didn’t do the dishes? - “Is this how you’d leave your husband’s house looking like where pigs live?”

And it wasn’t just my mother. One day, my father noticed my poor eating habits and said I had to change because I’d soon be responsible for feeding a man and our children.

So basically, I was taught to live my life for people I had never met.

And while I agree that it is important to raise people who would someday bring value into their marriage, I think that in raising us, our parents completely ignore our individuality. It’s almost like they intentionally choose to ignore this tiny pocket of our lives - Enjoying your life while your future partner makes their way towards you.

Everyone tells you about finishing university, getting a job, marrying the absolute love of your life and having adorable babies.

But almost no one talks about a time when you’ll be able to wake up late on a Monday morning, do the dishes as the sun gently warms up your face, dance around in your tiny kitchen, open your fridge wondering what you’re going to eat today, laugh at the reel your friend just sent you, roll your eyes at a message from a man that is bent on taking you on a date, plan a trip, or just sit in your living room with a warm cup of tea (because you’re weirdly into teas now) and realise that you can do anything you want because your life solely belongs to you.

You’re not living for your children or for a spouse. You’re solely living for yourself.

Certainly, a partner is going to come into your life and one day, you’re going to be a parent but as that dream manifests, so will the weight of the responsibilities. As the mummy or daddy of little Lola, you can’t just pack up and take a trip to Ibadan or Santiago or Dubai.

So please, as much as you romanticise a life with a partner, romanticise your own life alone as well.

And I hope when you do settle down and have a daughter, you tell her about this little pocket of life everyone seems to gloss over or doesn’t think important enough to talk about.

I hope you paint the picture of a life where she is content and happy to explore and discover who she truly is without any external influences.

Till next time!

Hauwa 🖤