Moving to a new place is supposed to be the best, especially as a single girl, the prospects of fine young eligible men, would set your blood pumping, especially when the move is to the western world, you start to make plans for the future boyfriends and crushes you haven’t even met.
I went on a strict diet before we moved, I didn’t want to be the new fat girl in town, and I made sure I left Nigeria without any attachments. Well you know, I didn’t want one boy in Nigeria to tie me down and spoil all my fun summer trips, I’d have to be thinking of coming back to Nigeria every holiday for one boy, no buenos!
….. And then we moved, SHOCKER!!!! My parents decided to move at the worst possible time, my dad had to be back in Nigeria to run his business so December was the only freetime we had. I wasn’t happy about this, and all through that first month of not even one toaster, I inwardly cursed the winter and the cold and all the layering of huge jackets and sweaters that were needed to survive in Canada as my reason for not getting any.
Oh, I didn’t mention it was Canada? Haha, biggest joke ever, my beloved Canada, almost like the US but not quite there yet, forever trailing in almost everything *Disclaimer – I will deny this statement anywhere*.
Winter rolled into summer, and that’s when I realized that this wasn’t a seasonal thing, there just weren’t any men, and being a Christian significantly reduced the amount of eligible men that existed. Unlike in Nigeria where majority of the people in the South, East and West are Christians, my tiny little city in Canada, had all sorts – Buddhists, Atheists, Moslems, Hindus, *oh and what’s that one that Tom Cruise is in* yeah that too, the percentage of Christians are alarmingly low and even lower when you talk about guys that are Christians in my age group, it becomes infinitely next to impossible to find one.
Imagine my shock, what happened to all my dreams of coming here, finding Mr right with blonde hair and blue eyes and a body like a greek god, instead forced to sieve through the shoulda woulda couldas that are available, the broke ass black men with no imagination, the liverless white guys, the eligible black guys with mountains as chips on their shoulders, the underage my-daddy-is-a-rich-man-in-naij
Yeah two years here, and the Akins, Freds and Seuns in Lagos are starting to appeal to me again, and even though I swore to my friends that I never would, and ‘long distance’ would never be my thing, the almost 6000miles to naija seems like nothing to me and I’d gladly spend every holiday there now, can’t wait for summer, let’s go a-fishing in Lagos.