I am angry, constantly bitter; I’ve not always been like this, but right now I have grown to become an angry, sad, old lady. My chest constantly burns deeply; I just enrolled for an anger management Class at the psychiatric hospital with Dr Jones. Last week i smashed my television into pieces the week before it was my laptop, it was then i knew i had a problem. I am 31 years old. My name is Lisa Okoh a.k.a. ‘Mona Lisa’ if you listen to 98.2 FreaQ FM you will definitely know this name. The very soft, sensational, happy voice that anchors the show ‘woman to woman’ every Wednesday on FreaQ FM. (Happy indeed) all those are just but make believes, that’s what I’m paid to do
2006 was my favourite year it was my big break i graduated from school, got a job at the Nigerian press community and also got a contract with FreaQ FM, I was young, (i still am) radical, and exuberant. I was always ready to experiment. I was a born extrovert; according to mother my first word was the word as a baby was ‘Afghanistan!’ (To me, that’s really a BIG word for a kid). My job was fun and exciting, (oh! it used to be), i used to work overtime always i just didn’t used to want leave the studio. I won an award in 2007 as the best for the best radio personnel, i also won plenty other youth awards. My name was sung up the hill and down the valley. The biggest thing that happened to me in 2007, bigger than all the awards to me was Jacob to coming into my life. Jacob was a second year student of mass communication- photography major. I still remember that day; it was a cold, rainy July night. During the After party of Sola’s album launch, a young, cute well built young man stepped up to me and told me to autograph his boxers, I was shocked as I watched him, loosen his belt and unzip his trouser, my heart was beating fast, i felt embarrassed but i wanted to be undefeated so i stood tall and bold, I can still remember, it was a tight, red Hugo boss briefs. He gave me a pen as he smiled mischievously as I signed my hands pressed against his thick Thighs and I shivered it’s been a while i felt that way. I’ve been sexually inactive for years now; it’s been work, work and work. Men were the least thing on my mind, i have many suitors but i don’t have their time. After i signed he gripped my hand tightly and said ‘hope you wouldn’t mind i tattoo you too’ as he chucked, his voice was husky i had taken a little too much wine, so my judgements were not accurate he dragged me to the dark corner, I followed him happily as a sheep to the slaughter i liked the feeling. It was a cold night and the night was perfect, the DJ then started playing my favourite song ‘immortality- Celine Dion’ my head was on fire, filled with crazy sparks. It was then we both agreed it was going to be just a one night stand, after which we won’t contact each other again. After the wonderful night i woke up early, stole Jacob’s complimentary card. Unknowing to me he took my driver’s licence so too I’ll contact him. Long story short we kept in touch Jacob was 20. I bought him a car, we were crazily and blindly in love (or should i say stupidly delusional). I knew we had no future but i just didn’t want to let go, Jacob was young, maybe too young for me. I was 27 then. I loved the feeling of being young again, i felt like a secondary school girl again. I used to play childishly with Jacob, under the rain, in shops, in church everywhere. We had our trademark handshake.
Everybody told me i was being stupid, my colleagues at work, my younger sister Rosa, everyone but i just didn’t listen. I liked the temporal ‘high’ it was like euphoria.
It is 2010 now. Years has passed, Jacob broke up with me last year’s Christmas ( like I knew it wouldn’t happen) he is currently in the UK with his white wife, and their new born son -Sean which was the name I was reserving for my first son, that bloody fool! Bloody Thief!
Last week i lost my job because I slapped my boss recklessly, he said I was slacking in my duties i had become lazy and i come to work late. Do I need to tell now that work has become a big nightmare. I hate filling the attendance column with the section-martial status. I am tired of putting down single on the dotted line. Like my mother would say ‘girls are like flowers they blossom and they fade away’ i have blossomed and i am fading or should i say faded away. I can’t take jokes about husbands no more; strangers address me as Mrs Lisa before i correct them that it is still ‘Miss’, as they apologize in disappointment. I am beautiful, used to be much more beautiful. I threw away my opportunities over nothing. Jacob still E-mails me and ends all his E-mails with ‘I love you deeply’ is he crazy? Is he kidding me? Mscheww what does he know about love other than good bed time?
Next weekend is my kid sister’s wedding and I’m not going, I’ll be at the spa chilling. I cannot stand seeing people pity me like they always do, all my friends and foes are getting married, I feel completely left out, most of their conversation are dominated with wedding planner, Ante- natal, child christening, family planning, HUSBAND,! HUSBAND! And more HUSBAND! I feel like a student who has not been attending maths class and is in the middle of a quiz, they make marriage look so sweet, my best friend Ada is travelling to Dubai for summer holidays with her husband and family, did I tell you about my kid sister’s best friend- Brandy who had their honeymoon in the Bahamas, the photos are all over Facebook. Everybody’s relationship status has upgraded to MARRIED! My parents claim to be fine with me staying back with them at home; I still retain my old room painted pink just as it has always been. Every time when my mother speaks to me I hear pity in her voice, it frustrates me and makes me cry every night. I am desperate, very; very desperate I’ll do anything just to have the title ‘Mrs’ in front of my name, have my own family and be seen on Facebook with an album labelled ‘MY WEDDING’. This is not an advert; it is more than just an advert. Help me please i desperately need a man, help! I am for sale buy me. This is my story.
Aka ‘Mona Lisa’
For the Lighthouse newspaper
WOMAN TO WOMAN