BIMPE, my story.
Let’s not jump into introductions even though that’s supposed to be the norm.
I was never told that growing up was a trap and I spent most of my youth fighting to be accepted as an adult.
I was one of those girls that bought bra before I even developed boobs and when I finally grew boobs, I was busy spending every available time after 7pm looking for boys to fondle my boobs in the garage. (Please don’t judge me and pretend you never enjoyed boys pressing your boobs at a tender age).
I bought my first lipstick before I was in primary 6 because all the powerful women I saw on TV wore red lipstick.
I wanted to grow up so much that I made it mandatory for anyone close to me at least a month younger than me to refer to me as Aunty Bimpe.
Guess what? I finally grew up and thanks to the boys; I ended up packing a double DD.
I know you are wondering where I’m going with all this, I’ll tell you in a bit but before then, let me introduce myself.
My name is Bimpe Adaobi Adewale; I’m from Osun State, the first child of 3 girls and a boy.
My dad is Yoruba while my mum is Igbo. Born in Aguda Surulere, schooled in Lagos and England, moved back in February 2013 and until now, there was no need to start this dairy.
Life was fun in England and I lived like there was no tomorrow. During the weekends, I dress in my house on Fridays and end up spending the whole of Saturday and early hours of Sundays with whoever could afford to get me drunk, into a taxi and maybe fast enough to get his fingers up my skirt in the back seat.
I was once 23 years old and one day I woke up 29 with no particular number on my phone saved as “Boo”.
It didn’t mean anything to me or will I say, I constantly told myself it meant nothing until that faithful Valentine’s Day.
I was in bed, thinking of every reason not go to work and then my phone rang.
Looking at it, I saw that it was my mum calling and she never calls by that time of the morning. I was a bit worried but then I went ahead to pick.
Bimpe: Good Morning, Ma
Mum: How are you?
Bimpe: Mummy, why are you calling so early, is everything okay?
Mum: My husband is beside me; the house is not on fire and so I believe everything is okay.
Bimpe: So mummy, you just called me for nothing?
Mum: Bimpe, whose voice is that in the background?
Bimpe: No one is here, mummy. It must be the radio.
Mum: Look at you? You are even proudly telling me there’s no one here. Nne, You are 29 and you are so happy that you woke up alone. You don’t even have a friendship ring talkless of a promise ring.
Bimpe: Mum, ejor, It’s too early in the morning.
Mum: It’s too early? It’s too early for what? To remind you that you are 29 or to remind you that I have finished having children when I was your age? Listen young woman, you will not bring me shame. I have stopped going to Surulere because of you. I cannot be the only that attends engagement of other people’s daughters’ while mine is living in England changing her display pictures on blackberry. Adaobi, if no one is willing to give you a ring, buy one for yourself and save my face.
Bimpe: Mummy, stop!
Mum: Stop for what? I have booked mass for you and I sometimes think God might have gotten tired of my prayers.
Ada’m, please let me know if you are a lesbian. I may be hurt but at least I will stop expecting a son-in-law from you and focus my prayer points on your sisters. They look up to you & I wouldn’t want your younger ones to get married before you.
Bimpe: Mummy, what does that mean? You actually think I’m a lesbian or what? I don’t like the way and the things you are saying to me this morning. Jennifer & Oby can get married if they are ready. I cannot be accused on holding them down.
Mum: Bimpe, you are 29 and you don’t see anything wrong with that? You are in London allowing these boys to be playing okoso with your heart.
Bimpe: Mummy, will I marry myself?
Mum: No, but I think you should start considering moving back. I have discussed with your dad and we think it will be a good idea for you to move back or if that’s too quick, at least take a long holiday in Nigeria.
There are a lot of single rich young men in Nigeria and with your qualifications; it will be easy for you to hook a man
Bimpe: Mummy, You want me to just pack up my things and move to Nigeria? That’s like putting my life on hold for a trip to Nigeria.
Mum : What is life at 29 without a man of your own? Your life is already on hold. I cannot deceive you my daughter. I know the type of life my friends who never got married are living.
Bimpe: But Mummy, you are making it look like 29 is too old or I’m the person chasing men away.
Mum: My daughter, do you want me to come for Omugwo at 80 so that I wont be able to eat meat? I want to visit the parks with my grand children wearing jeans. Is that too much to ask ?
Bimpe: Mummy, this is too sudden, you need to give me sometime to think about it
Mum: Nne, I’d be calling you later in the evening to know when you will be coming. By the way, I know I’m the one that asked you to bring a man home; please we don’t want onye ocha or onye Edo state.
Bimpe: But mummy, you complain I don’t have a husband yet you don’t want a white man or somebody from Edo state? Sometimes, I think I’m still single because of all these rules
Mum: Your mates that are bringing Yoruba and Igbo boys home to their parents do they have two heads? I only said that I wouldn’t want you to marry them because of your own happiness.
Bimpe: Okay, Mum. I have heard. Happy Valentine.
Mum: Adaobi, look for a man of your own and wish him happy valentine, I love you as my daughter but I’m okay with “Happy Mothers day”. That one is enough for me.
Bimpe: Okay Mummy, Give my regards to Daddy.
Mum: Nne, he will hear. Just remember what we discussed. I will call you later in the evening to know when you’d be coming so that we can clean your room.
It was the first time my mother ever called that early to talk to me about my old age without a husband or a serious relationship.
Sometimes, she sounds like she needs the husband more than me but deep down I know that she’s just looking out for me.
I remember one of such discussions when I was 28, I told my mum that if I don’t get married at 30 that I would get pregnant and have one or two kids.
She ended up not talking to me for two weeks.
I moved back in February 2013, not because my parents wanted me to move back and get a husband, but because I was tired of staying in England, starting a relationship with men only to find out they are either married to a white girl for papers or married to a Nigerian girl living in Nigeria.
The worst of them all was Mike; we met at a Nigerian party and kicked it off immediately.
I was everything that any man would wish or so I thought. I used to cook for him, do his laundry and even handle the weekly grocery with all my heart.
The only times I ever said no to sex were those few days of my period but even at that, I never hesitated on going down on my needs to suck me off when the need arises. I was the perfect girlfriend and I have been told am amazing in bed.
It started with him going out to the balcony to take his calls and then one day I overheard him asking, “How many bags of rice are they asking for”. When I asked him what he was buying rice for, he told me that it was for his uncle’s burial and he would be traveling to Nigeria for the ceremony.
Life continued but with constant calls to Nigeria talking about a list and requirements.
One week after he traveled, I got tagged on a facebook picture and on opening it, it was a traditional wedding picture of wife and a girl whose picture I have seen on his facebook that he claimed was his cousin.
This is my dairy and I’m here to get my man.
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