Pandemic Metamorphosis

The morning commute was never really my thing.

It’s never really anybody’s thing. But even more for me because I am not a morning person, and I hate driving. A non-morning person who hates to drive at any time of the day not just in the morning. Not a very good combination. That's why I always live so close to the office or the commercial area so i don’t have to drive so far. Then, I hate the whole act of the office. The picking what to wear, ensuring it matches with your mood of the day, that can take me hours. Some days I just rather do a tee shirt and leggings to embrace the whole “I just rolled outta bed” look.

Then, there’s the greeting and chatting and asking about everyone’s family that comes with the office candor, this is peculiar to Nigeria, the whole “Oh I love your outfit” "where did you get those shoes, that bag, that dress?” the oohs and the aahs. I find it utterly redundant. They usually wait until it's lunch or office water cooler time to exchange all those kinds of dribbles in America.

Then, Covid19 came along and changed all that so people like me didn’t have to deal with that bullsh*t. It just cut it off with the swiftness and now we all get to sit at home in our sweatpants and admire our shoes and bags gathering dust and hope that we can get to wear them on the weekends, if at all.

Life has a way of sorting some bullsh*t out, doesn’t it?

Do Women Really Support Women?

This whole mantra of "Women supporting Women…" 

Is it a myth? More like a nice-to-have?

Don't know about you but some of the most painful, tear-inducing moments in my life have been orchestrated by women. As I hurt, and gasp out of breath from the pain I ask, how did I get here? Then, a light shows me a woman at the helm of the affairs, at the other end of that pain steering the wheel, plunging the knife point into my pain totally unapologetic of her sadistic actions. 

So, I ask again, is it a myth? 

Do women really love and support each other? 

The other day, as I was trying to lease an apartment in Lagos (renting in Nigeria is already single-handledly one of the most frustrating experiences of one's life), I was put through what I can only term as an "ordeal" by another woman. When the male agent provided me with her contact details, I was thrilled to find out that not only is she a woman but a lawyer, a fellow member of the Bar, my excitement was peeked that for once this rental experience was not going to be one of those arduous real estate encounters and I would ergo be supporting a woman in business. 

Little did I know, it would be much worse. This woman, who is a respected (and powerful) member of the Nigerian society, notable as a "supporter of women" put me through the ringer. She reneged on not only one but two offer letters on the property, and she was quite unapologetic about either of her actions. When I explained to her the damages I had incurred in meeting her inconsistent demands, her frosty tone let me know that in no way would this woman ever apologize because she considered herself far above reproach to the society and especially to me, a struggling single female professional, a mere cockroach she could squash in her formidable blameless upper crust life. She swiftly hung up and continued living her life, after negatively impacting another woman's. 

Unfortunately, this is just not a singular incident. Think about it. At a panel interview, it's always the female interviewers that want to take you to task, or probe about sections of the OECD guidelines, or ask (repeatedly I might add) why you've felt the need to have a gap in your resume. However, the male panelists are more concerned with chemistry and your ability to do the job, on the job. Even in the workplace, at review time, there's always a woman on the other end, telling you how you don't deserve that mental health day, or insisting that you "clock" in at a certain time. It's always us putting the squeeze on each other instead of lifting one another up. 

Unfortunately, some of these women are so high up in society (just like mine) that you dare not call them out for their actions, or you'll become embroiled in some sort of David and Goliath scenario (except in this version David gets squashed into a million little pieces by Goliath and everyone stands around and says, "I told you so!"). 

The list of instances are endless and when Women's Day rolls around, women everywhere celebrate it so effusively every single year, that I start to wonder if I am the only person being treated poorly by my fellow women/sistas. 

My message is simple, if you're a woman doing business with another woman, have this at the back of your mind - 

Women should support Women emphatically. Not just say that they will, but really truly have each other's backs. Personally. Professionally. Total and Complete Support. Be doers of the word and not observers only. Be a fierce femme not a femme fatale.

Anita Writes - Reflections on Aging

 

As I celebrated yet another trip around the sun solo (Not that I'm complaining) I contemplated several things for the first time in my storied colorful life. 

I thought simply that in my next life I will choose to be married, to have the 2.3 kids, to submit my life to the routine, the atimes mind-numbing normalcy of a family. Not like there's any specific prize associated with it. But Society. Yes, Society particularly Nigerian Society values, respects and even sees you more once you're either married or with kids. 

Without it, you're either invisible and your life carries no meaning, no matter how educated and professionally accomplished you are. I could have a Harvard MBA but if there's no Mr. at home with little rugrats running around, I'm addressed as if I wasted my life, as if it has no consequence whatsoever. But if I happen to have both, I'm no longer invisible but invincible and an acceptable member of society and the happiness and fulfillment with my life is assumed. They start to randomly utter to you, "We're proud of you," as if they're not proud of either way. Yea. Interesting, how much more meaning your life has once you're no longer single?

In my next life, I would choose to be black but not African and I will choose to be married with an Ivy league education, state of marriage notwithstanding. Oh if we could exercise these choices.

But now, for now, this moment, I just choose to be grateful for the sunrise on this birthday. 

An Anita Writes Birthday Sequel

Was trying to recall the last time my birthday was on a Sunday and this came to mind…

My trip to Santa Barbara. 

A very long, meticulously planned very expensive trip that my boujeé wine-loving self insisted on taking. I can’t remember how many times I had to answer that question that night at the Lounge/NightClub "Black Cat".

"Why did you decide to leave Atlanta to come celebrate your birthday in Santa Barbara?"

To date I don’t really know. Guess I had seen so many movies around that time that informed my senses around the type of lifestyle that existed in Santa Barbara and how it seemed more like me. That was how it for me the one boujee place that would be a perfect setting to celebrate my birthday. I was also really getting into wine about that time too, and the wine country in California is not so far from there. 

I miss those times when you can have a dream, an idea and the funds (credit cards) would enable you to achieve them. I’ve never been much of a saver. I've always believed in living for the moment because tomorrow is not promised, tomorrow you might find yourself living in Nigeria(!) That's always been me. But looking back, I am glad that I maxed out my credit cards and took that boujee trip to Santa Barbara as you can see this type of trips are not available right now so it was a good thing we lived our best life so we can live in the memories and the bourgeoisie culture that it imbibed in us. 

...

To many more birthdays, Anita Writes, preferably in foreign exotic cities.