Adeboro

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3/9

Book.
August. 

I’ve always loved August because it’s my birth month. I turn 21 this month. 

Last year my dad said, ‘People don’t celebrate 20 years birthday. People celebrate 21. You can join us to drink then’ 

My mom said, ‘Don’t listen to your daddy o. Ehn? Everyday we live, we must celebrate life. Do you know how many people want to be your age? In your body? Having your life?’

I chuckle sadly when I remember that. My round belly moves up and down when I chuckle. Do I know any 21 year old unmarried African girl, who wants my body and my life right now? Nope. Well, except she is aching to hear terrible words thrown at her; to have countless unending family meetings on her matter; to have the father of her baby desert her (oh, I haven’t told you?); and to have to deal with hormones and then real-life emotions. 
So yeah, Charles stopped calling me. It started by him telling me he’ll call later and that he was busy. Then it went from him ignoring and not returning my calls. Then it went from him switching off his phone. And then like that, no communication line between us anymore. I went to his house; the place where my baby was conceived. They said he had moved out. I asked where. They said he didn’t say. I went to his office, they said he had resigned. I asked where. They said to Abuja. 

Hey, at least he left me a baby before deserting. I guess he loved me after all. Thanks a lot Charles. 
I don’t want to sound all depressed but really, I am. 

When I told my mom about the pregnancy, she screamed and clawed at my face. My dad started to laugh at first, but when he saw that I was bleeding from the clawing, he pushed my mom back and said, ‘Ahahn! Dolapo, can’t you see that she’s just pranking us??? You’ll be the next Internet sensation because she’s probably videoing it’ 

I burst into tears because I realized that my father had just made everything a hundred times worse. I wished his words were all verbs so they’d turn to actions and actually form my reality. But no. 
School is alright. I’m happy I don’t attend those schools that expel people for making a one-day mistake. Like having to carry and push and take care of another life isn’t already life’s payback enough. 

I am angry sometimes when I see a random boy and girl walking on the street; behaving all lovey-dovey. I want to walk up to the girl- No, I want to walk up to the boy and slap him and then turn to the girl and tell her, ‘I had something good too. But it only got me pregnant. Butt out while you can’ 

But I just walk on because I realize that they are not Charles and I. 

I cry most days. When I’m not crying, I’m listening to sad songs. You don’t want to know how many songs I have now discovered. 
I can’t believe what I’m about to write. But here:

Everything will be alright. 

Seriously. 

Every morning I wake up and I realize I haven’t yet died from the pain, I realize ‘wow… Everything is going to be alright’ 

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