Come into my world; see it as I see it. This world that is unexplainably complicated.
My best friend’s brother has just welcomed his son into the world. My sister is getting engaged next month. My favourite cousin was in a car accident that left him handicapped and he is okay with it, actually very positive about his life. These are all things that happen to adults.
Exactly what I do not feel like.
I am not an adult yet. I keep telling myself. But next year, I will mark 25 years on earth. 25 good long years, where I was supposed to have learnt how to survive, comfortably live on my own, be in a healthy relationship leading to marriage. Generally all things, I haven’t.
I never really thought of how life will be at 25.
Should I be the corporate smart lady who wakes up at 5:00am, goes for a run and is on the way to the office by 6:00? On a busy day, she will still be in the office at 9:00pm. She loves her job and is extra good at it. She is independent, knows what she wants and has it all figured out. I think but I know she doesn’t have it all figured out.
I used to love writing. Used to look at nation centre and say, that’s my future office, I used to. Maybe that’s the 24 year old I need to be. The writer, who has discovered her niche and does a hell of a job. She is a happy go lucky girl. Send her to a press conference and rest assured she will give front page worthy news. A lifestyle article, farming article, stock exchange, she can do it and do it right. Sure she will deliver last minute, works well under pressure. Suffers from writer’s block hence has articles in store for those rainy days. She handles her bills and life just the same way, risk taker but not too risky.
Maybe I should go back to church. Immerse myself in the Church maybe that is where I belong. Right there where I know my heart will be at peace. I can be engaged to the youth pastor. Spend all our weekends traveling and preaching. Spreading the gospel and living my life exactly how God meant it to be lived.
But I never imagined being 25, I still feel like a child. Even my body doesn’t look 25.
I am still that young girl who was raised in a windy cold village. Who met ‘walevis’ on the way home and would spend hours listening to their stories because she was too scared not to. The girl with the black dog, that was seemed as old as the world. Black, deep wolf eyes, always following people around with a look that said “I know what you did but I don’t judge”. I am that girl who dreamt of building a big hut and filling it with enough modern equipment and rooms to fit 6 people.
That girl who collected unique stones, read Greek mythology stories and rewrote them. My classmates thought I was an amazing story teller, yet I was simply rewriting what I had read. Ain’t I lucky no other 11 year old ever read Greek mythology?
I still meet those boys and girls who jumped fences with me. Literally, we jumped the school fence to get to the University mess first. They look so different. Some are tall and handsome. Others are mothers and ooh so smart.
That tall guy who used to sit at the back of the class and never said a thing. Luke** used to walk around with a slight bend trying desperately to be shorter than he was. He had pimples on his face while the rest of us had smooth baby faces. Well I met him the other day and he has blossomed into a handsome man with piercing eyes and a shy smile. Blossomed into that guy you look at more than once and desperately hope he looks at you.
Nancy**. I met Nancy** in class 4, she had been forced to repeat class four. She was a loud spoken, playful girl. We quickly became friends. She had this air of maturity about her. Like everyone thought she knew more about the world than the rest of us, hence we respected her. Academics were not her forte then. Today, she is doing her masters looking more sophisticated than Caroline Mutoko. Hear her speak and you wonder what happened? Did I really know you back then?