"I have to do something about it," I said to myself.
But what? What should I do or say to escape this prison I call home?
Source
My thoughts went back to what my coursemate, Favour, said to me.
"Maybe your parents just don't trust you. That is why they don't bat an eyelid on you," she had said, and I instantly got into the notion that my parents don't think highly enough of me to allow me to make my own decisions.
Earlier that day in school, a senior colleague had talked to us about his tutorial class. And from what we heard, he is very good at mathematics. I was thinking of registering for the class until he mentioned that the tutorials would be taking place at night.
Sleeping outside my home is the last thing I could ever mention to my parents.
"If you can't come for night class, you can attend the tutorials with my colleague. His class is from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.," said the senior colleague.
"You can go for that one, right? Phyna," asked Favour.
"Nope. I can't stay out after 7 p.m.," I said, and she sighed.
It's sad to say, but I didn't like home anymore. I could hear freedom singing in my thoughts. Freedom while eating, doing laundry, and cooking. I wanted to live alone, go to parties and picnics, visit places, hang out with friends, and make decisions for myself. Most of the time, I'd sit by myself and daydream about the kind of life I wanted.
Maybe I was just being ungrateful, but I didn't see it that way then.
My dream came true when the school board shifted my department to a new campus. The distance from my home to school was no longer a stone's throw. I utilised this time to make my people see the reason why they should get an apartment for me—a place closer to my new campus. It took them a long time to make the decision; now I understand why. It isn't because they don't trust me, but because they were worried if I would cope alone in a new environment.
I was a bit sad the day I left home; the thought of not seeing my people for a long time made me worried. And for the first time, I worry about what my new home will be like. Will I be able to access and adapt to the new changes?
However, I didn't dwell on these thoughts because they were immediately replaced with excitement when I thought about the freedom I'd have. I drew in a deep breath and let it out with a hideous grin.
"Freedom, here I come!" I said, my eyes sparkling in excitement.
But unfortunately, the first week in my new home was nothing close to what I expected. It was so boring and lonely. Favour, who was happy I'm finally out of my family's web, didn't relent to help me out. She invited me to her cousin's birthday party, and I was eager to attend.
"Everything always seems to surprise me," I muttered to myself when I stepped into the big sitting room.
It was filled with smoke from Shi sha and scents of alcohol. Multicoloured flickering lights that stressed my eyes and loud music that made everyone talk in a high-pitched voice. The worst were the men who looked at me like prey.
After the celebrant cut his cake, the party began fully, and I became more uncomfortable.
That turned out to be my first and last outing with Favour, and she blamed me for making her leave early.
"You made me miss the gaming side of the party," she told me.
'I'm sorry. I was dying in there. How do you even cope with such an atmosphere?' I asked.
"You enjoy it; that is what you do," she teased, and pinched my chubby cheeks.
I tried the night class, but it wasn't as sweet as I imagined. I regretted leaving my warm room for a cold classroom filled with female Anopheles mosquitoes. I was also worried about thieves and other social vices.
It didn't take long for me to realise that the life I longed for was just a fantasy. My spirit, soul, and body might never align with it. The outgoing life I craved settled into a triangular routine, from school to church, home, and back to school. I also missed the connection with my family, the arguments, laughter, and the joy of coming home to a prepaid meal. Things were different in my new home; I had to prepare my own meals after school, no matter how tired I was. Sometimes, I ended up having biscuits for dinner.
The grass is always greener on the other side was my mantra before leaving home. I came to realise that there was nothing too exciting beyond my parent's watchful eyes, and that the lifestyle I yearned for was not who I wanted to be.
Many times, I felt the urge to return home, like a prodigal child, to apologise for my ingratitude. However, after much contemplation, I chose to establish myself. I practiced self-discipline in my dietary decisions, financial management, cleanliness, and aspirations. I managed to find my place and learned to adapt, even though I often wished I had never left home.