Amaka was boiling.
She was on the verge of going stark, raving mad.
She was mad at God for making her an African woman, mad at the world for their ridiculous social norms and mad at her brother for asking her not to buy the car of her dreams!
“Buying a Range Rover will intimidate all the men you meet, buy one of those Toyota saloon cars instead…”
Why on earth were women so marginalized? Why did she have to lower her standards just because she wanted to be ‘in the market’?
This was not the first time it was happening to her. Two years ago she had wanted to move out of her parents’ house but they had resisted; their only reason being that a good woman married from her parents’ house and nobody wanted the sort of woman that lived alone.
Amaka really couldn’t take it anymore. Soon they would be asking her to pass up promotions and ask for a pay cut just because she wanted a friggin’ husband. Was this what the women who were her age and married had had to sacrifice? Was it an unwritten rule that for a woman to be socially acceptable she had to kill her dreams, clip her wings and succumb to the inferiority that her man’s ego demanded of her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to get married under these circumstances but even as she thought those traitorous thoughts, she knew that her mother would rather die than see her unmarried.
She had spent a full day with her mother praying on the mountain and had been pushed (under the anointing), baptized, anointed with oil, made to confess her association with mammy water, exorcised and prophesied upon and now she was supposed to be on a compulsory 7-day dry fast. Why did marriage have to be such a difficult goal to attain? Working hard or in this case being good, could not assure you a husband. There were girls she knew back in school who were serious ashewos but were now happily married with kids to well to do men. Secretly she wished that their men were vile creatures who punished them daily for their youthful sins but their happy faces on social media told a different story. She had developed a penchant for hearing and decoding married people’s gist. It was like deep down she needed to convince herself that marriage wasn’t all that since it was all her family ever talked about but the truth was marriage was as dicey as relationships. Some got it good, some got it bad but no one ever got it hitch-free.
Speaking of relationships, she thought of the new guy on her case. Daniel was fine, had an ok job and was soft spoken. She was starting to like him though she knew that she had to find out more about him first. She wondered if Daniel would like her driving a Range Rover, he hadn’t minded when he walked her to the taxi park the other day and he drove a 1999 Toyota Camry which had seen better days but she didn’t mind his car at all. He had dreams and there was nothing more attractive to her than a man who was a big dreamer because she strongly believed that people were a product of their dreams. She wondered if her new car would intimidate him. He was a good, hard-working man; just the kind of man her brother said the car would chase away but then again was he enough reason to put her dream car on hold? He had not even asked her out yet and this was their third date so technically they weren’t exclusive plus she had asked him about his long term goals and he had been vague especially where settling down was concerned. She thought about taking the bull by the horns like Bunmi was doing; Bunmi could definitely help her keep Daniel but she would wait first and see how the Bunmi-Tito drama played out before taking expert advice from her.
Her phone suddenly rang and she snapped out of her reverie.
“Hello…yes I am still interested in the car, will make the deposit tomorrow. Thanks”
Yep! The deed was done. Her new baby was coming whether the world thought it proper or not. She had worked hard and deserved to splurge a little and if for any reason she had to choose between Daniel and her Range Rover, Daniel would have to go- or she could always sell it!
…to be continued…