A CYNIC’S GUIDE TO GETTING HITCHED – EPISODE 7

A Fresh Start


Now I know it’s ok to be a no-frills girl. I approached this project from the wrong angle. I tried to change myself to suit society’s framework and that wasn’t necessary to help me find a man. Nunya is proof of that. Nunya, even though he hurt me, showed me that the problem is not with me. I am capable of risking everything for love. I’m not detached like Mansa thought I was; like I thought I was. Even though it opened up a world of pain like I never knew, it also opened up a world of beautiful wonder like I never imagined existed. And in life, you can’t have one without the other.

One evening, as I rushed to finish two large cupcake orders that were due the next day, my mother walks in rather early from one of her outings looking chipper.

“You’re early,” I noted. “Why, your friends had to leave?”

“She put her handbag down on the couch and walked up to the counter of the kitchen which overlooked the living area.

“Oh, I didn’t go to see my friends. We had another family meeting.”

“Someone else died?”

“No, they just called and said the only time we meet is when there’s s funeral to be planned and they want to change that. So today we just met up to talk and reminisce.”

“Hmm, nice. The next time, you people should order cupcakes.”

My mother laughs. “Half of them have no teeth.”

My mother comes from a very huge family of 46 children, step children from both of my grandparents included. Some of them have passed on but those that remain are always at each other’s throats. It’s nice to see they are trying to work it out. It certainly seems to be doing my mother good.

“What are you making? Can I help?” My mother offers. She’s never offered before.

I nod and look at her, all dressed and made up and wondering why I didn’t turn out like her. Because I recall wanting to dress like her when I was much younger. I guess that when it was time for her to school me in the customs of a normal girl, she was too busy worrying about me not adding to her woes by getting pregnant so I didn’t get to wear the latest shoes and hair accessories growing up like my friends in school; I didn’t get to go out to the many kids’ variety shows and paid excursions; I wasn’t socialised.

This realisation doesn’t anger me; far from it. In fact, I have found a new appreciation for my mother. I imagine her feeling the way I do about Nunya’s leaving and not being able to give herself over to the grieving process because she had mouths to feed.

And to some extent, what she did, though misguided was partly for my benefit. What parents don’t want to accept is that their children’s lives are theirs to live. They are entitled to their own mistakes, their own choices.

We finish the cakes at 3 a.m.

The next day, when I arrive home after the long day of deliveries and setting up at the parties they were ordered for, I give my mother a long hug. I believe it is the first time I have voluntarily hugged her. It feels good.

I lie in bed that night trying to ignore the pain in my feet and my back.

In the dead of night, I wake up with a jolt and I don’t know what woke me; it wasn’t a bad dream. Then I start to panic. What was the point of Nunya crashing into my life like that? I fell in love and yet I’m no closer to having a companion than I was before.

Then it occurs to me that I had lost sight of my goal. I didn’t set out to fall in love; I set out to find a companion. I was happier when I didn’t have this. Happy in my own cynical way but at least I was content and clear headed. But this collision of souls blind-sided me and the explosion caused such a burst of debris that our pieces are all mixed up in each other and I can’t tell them apart. We gravitate towards the experiences we are meant to have. Even though what I had with him is tearing me apart because I don’t have it anymore, it was the most wonderful thing I have ever felt and in some ways, I am grateful for it, but really, what was the point?

Could it all have been for me to understand my mother better? Was that the purpose of this cruel joke the cosmos played on me?

There are days when I can almost feel him and I’m expecting him to call any moment but he never does. And there are days when I hit such a low that all I care to do is stay in bed. I don’t remember when it happens but I fall asleep again.

* * *
Ayitey and I are no longer in each other’s company every day. Part of the reason is that I don’t feel like company most of the time, and the other reason is that Ayitey finally chose a woman to be exclusive with. I’m happy for him.

Even though I don’t want to spend time with company, spending time alone doesn’t do for me what it used to do. It’s almost like solitude took offence in my romance with Nunya and became hostile to me.


I need change, a new experience; something to jolt me out of the doldrums. As I stand in the kitchen mixing batter a thought comes to me. I need to move out of the house. I need to get my own place. Rediscover myself get comfortable with myself again. Then maybe I can resume my quest for a lifetime companion. Ayitey’s finding someone has reiterated the need for me to expedite my actions.

A month later, I find a place. Not too far from my mother because I want to be able to check on her regularly. She complains about me leaving her alone but soon she accepts it and even agrees to take in one of her siblings’ children who just started a day not far from our place secondary school.

Ayitey helps me move in. It is a one bedroom apartment with a spacious kitchen that overlooks the living room. It reminds me of home and the transition is a little bit smoother.

My first night there, I lie on my bed in my new room and listen to the cars driving past outside and the leaves rustling on the trees outside my window. This is mine, at least for the next two years, and this is where I start afresh.