New year- No expectations

It’s raining outside; unsteady drops spraying my window pane as I write this. It’s calming in an eery sort of way. Diverts my attention from my orchestra of worries to something beyond me, outside my control, unleashed from the heavens. I remember when I was in Nigeria, I used to dance in the rain. The rain was my friend and I was a spirit child. Dipping in and out of the drops, body licked and thrown by the forces. It was invigorating, cleansing, something I was born to do. I let my tongue hang out and accepted the salty presents, offered by the sky. They tasted of the morning dew that settled on the tips of the restless grass, and the soil that my toes loved to squeeze and release till I couldn’t tell where my body ended and the earth began. Each drop was a different flavour, a story of its journey through the earth. I felt wicked tip-toeing back into the house, my wrapper and shirt clinging tightly to reveal the outline of my perky bosom, and hips rounded from pounded yam and every other delicacy I could savour before my return home. God spoke to me through his messengers the wind and the rain, and now lying here my fingertips brushing against the keys, something in my spirit tells me he is trying to again.

Today is the 1st January.  The beginning of great things to come. This year will be one of prosperity they said, the year that everything will fall into place. We held hands at the 12pm countdown, and this prayer was prayed over a  group of strangers-of different shades, from different backgrounds but joined by a mutual friend, and a need to shed the weight and disappointment of last year by drinking and gyrating into the next. As I held the hand of the girl next to me, I felt her grip tighten, her eyes behind large circular glasses had shrunken to tight slits, flickering sporadically as she prayed hard. I hunched my shoulders and closed my eyes but my mind was astray, sucked into a pool thoughts of how I was in exactly the same position last year; frenzied and praying earnestly for a change in fortune. My mouth felt dry. I wanted to withdraw my hands, throw them up in the air and let rip the laughter brewing in my belly. It was an angry laughter that swirled violently, making me sway back and forth from my heels to my toes.

I still feel that nauseating flutter in my belly but it’s branched out now, like a weed knotting itself in my shoulders. It tugs on me regularly; a festering bitterness that I can’t be rid of. Why? Because 2015 was meant to be my year of good fortune. The year I would meet me my mysterious dark-haired prince with long eloquent fingers to cradle my chin as he smothered me with wicked kisses, dark eyes that would melt like butter in my mouth whenever he looked at me, and a heart that would seek and protect mine earnestly till death do us part. Now 2016 has come and I find myself rolling my eyes at impassioned prophesies of prosperity, progress and blah blah blah.

Rather than calling on God and expecting him to whirl his hands together in a blaze of blinding fire and conjure my hearts desires, I think I’m going to decide to not expect anything. To let life pave my path.

Ce qui sera sera. Whatever will be will be.

2016 you will be what you want to be! as for me I will be a spirit child, untamed and care-free.  I wish you all the best of luck in your strivings for prosperity. As for me you’ll find me hiding in the shadows, the crater of the moon, or maybe the rays of sunlight that dance around your room.  


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