A glimpse into Nicole’s life:
From an early age, I held the belief that being a girl was something extraordinary. Girls were perceived as princesses; well, that’s how I saw it. From my perception, girls were beautiful, high-flown, kind of have-it-all beings. Whenever I visited a family welcoming a newborn and discovered they had a boy, I felt a sort of sadness for them. I idealized being a girl [lifting her gaze in the sky], dreaming of having my own one day – preferably many girls. On the contrary, my sister preferred boys, arguing that being a girl was burdensome. She claimed that people mistreated girls, talked down to them, and no matter what they did, they were still considered average or incapable.
I couldn’t comprehend her perspective at the time because I was treated impeccably by my father and brothers. It seemed too perfect—being pampered, protected, and they celebrated my academic achievements and dancing skills. It felt as though I ruled the world [chuckling]
Surprisingly there are African proverbs that elevate boys over girls, suggesting that the conception of a boy is more eminent. And with my current understanding, I guess they reflect the power traditionally held by men, and don’t wish to see their girls being oppressed by society.
As I grew up, my sister’s words began to resonate with me. Boys seemed to have a voice in every aspect of life, and the ideals I cherished as a child began to lose their significance. Even at home, I found myself unable to express myself freely, literally being repressed, realizing there were societal boundaries placed upon girls compared to boys. I started to understand my mother’s silence and observed how men were praised just for their presence in ceremonies, I mean, any social and official gatherings, they effortlessly received recognition, while women were often overlooked.
One day, and this is recent like in this year 2024, my grandmother and I were joking about wearing ripped jeans. She struggled to understand why someone would purposefully wear torn clothing. To illustrate her point, she asked if I would wear them in front of my father. I replied that I could, though I knew I couldn’t actually. She insisted that it wouldn’t be respectful to him. When I asked if I could wear them when he wasn’t around, she cautioned against it, noting that I would still encounter other men who might disapprove. “What if there’s no man watching, only women.” I asked. “Women’s opinion is inconsiderable.” she said. It struck me, she’s in her 60s, educated and open-minded, however, she concurs that men’s judgement is more important than women’s.
Over time, I came to realize that being a woman requires strategic navigation. You constantly find yourself having to prove that you possess not only beauty but also brains and kindness, as if these qualities are mutually exclusive. Achieving academic success or securing a high-level position is often attributed to male favouritism. I know many women have rightfully challenged this repugnant mindset, yet change remains elusive. You cannot fathom how exasperating that is.
In middle school, amidst my confusion and the turbulence of adolescence, I found myself initiating a media program, a sort of journalism endeavor, where I delivered breaking news within the school. Reflecting back, I’m still amazed by the audacity I had to undertake such a venture. In earlier years, I had been exceedingly timid, I couldn’t even participate in debates. A consequence of enduring bullying at school, plus, being silenced at home, I mean not being allowed to share my ideas & opinion. Elders happen to think that they have power to mould their children into something they want. Consequently, I became an opaque figure, my voice muffled by the weight of these experiences.
I guess that initiative was sort of a rebel against this silence, actively seeking out my own voice [bumping her fists together]. it turned out to be both entertaining and fun, making me a recognizable and approachable figure within the school. To my surprise, some of my peers started rivalling me [bust in laughter] it was strange to me, like can somebody really think I’m worth competition? Well, I also started dating, but I was much interested in older guys. I found them more lettered than my mates, and as a curious person I always was eager to learn, to know more, and certainly being taken care of, and having great experience, you know. And it was good, it triggered tremendous growth, if I do say so myself.
Then came Jack. Jack was 2 years older than me. Not that old, but possessed a remarkable intellect. Our conversations flowed effortlessly on any topic. he had been a spy for sometime, I don’t know how he got out of there, and dabbled in real estate business.
That was after coming back from Algeria where I went to study but after the first year, my parents couldn’t afford to pay school-fees. So I came back with shame, shattering my dreams. And at that time I didn’t deal well with disappointments.
So Jack became sort of remedy to me, we really made the most of intimacy out of mutual fragility. We both felt a sense of being captive of world’s indifference towards injustice, egocentrism, and lie. I think we sought solace in each other’s company. However much enjoyable it was, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unfulfillment that gnawed at me. But I got stuck, he was my place of comfort, where I could curse everyone, and lamant, and dream in front of him but without any plan for change. And he was okay with it.
It was like time stood still, like living in suspense and do whatever you have been refusing for yourself. No working for a better future, no nothing. Just somebody somewhere pressed on pause.
Our sexual life was intense. And a lot of times it didn’t have a meaning, just because we’re together and free we would do it. It’s not what I wanted but, it seemed like a price I had to pay to preserve that semblance of security. I remember one day I refused to do it, and he was insisting and trying to remove my clothes and I was fighting back… not fighting as a fight but resisting him, and he was almost taking my shirt off and I said “imagine if this was being done to your daughter.” He had a daughter, he has a daughter [affirmatively]. Then he got up in frustration and let me out of his bedroom. Sometimes, during that moment, I’d cry thinking about my life, like how did I end up here? But I didn’t have strength to let go, because at least somebody was actively listening to me.
I even tried therapy, twice, before meeting Jack. But it didn’t work for me, I felt like therapists were telling me things I already knew based on the information I disclosed to them. So I stopped it. Now I realize that I wasn’t ready for change. I was looking for a lasting source of happiness, my inner child was yearning for a fairytale I once dreamt or imagined for myself. 5 minutes I would be happy and determined, another 5 minutes I would feel sad and purposeless. If I wanted to experience pleasant feelings, I had to be constantly in pursuit of them, which was never enough. And hear me out, I’m not blaming anybody in particular, it has something to do with my brains wires, biochemicals and genetic interactions more than external factors.
Therefore, I stayed with Jack for quite some time, leaning on those moments of fleeting joy, later on I had a miscarriage, I was still living with my parents but none of them didn’t get a clue. The more I wanted to get close to them, the more distance there was. [chocked up] we couldn’t hold a conversation, nobody was free to speak their hearts out. I became so angry with myself, for wasting my time instead of owning my life like I used to in middle school.
A while later, we started having conflicts. He’d call me names that I was stupid and to me, if you attack my brains you are out of the league, because I invest a lot in learning, reading, discovering, I make sure I speak with facts, so you can’t make me believe otherwise. I realized we could not keep scratching each others’ scars and expect a positive change. So I started regaining my self-esteem and searching for something I could do.
I would see how my former colleagues are thriving with their careers and I would be envious, like they found their path. So I started with something I enjoy doing, something that doesn’t drain my energy – photography, which really blessed my path because it brought financial stability and enabled me to pursue further education, including my master’s degree. subsequently, I received an offer to work for the Ministry of Youth and Arts, marking my return to the spotlight! And there go I!
Something I learnt so far in life, is that, you gotta own your defeats, your background, anything that’s keeping you on the ground; and move ahead. Because “life itself keeps going whether you approve of the progression or not” [air quotes]
I believe had I not been down for that long, my life wouldn’t have turned out like it is today, a fearless grand lady that I am now [she smiles]. I don’t allow anything stealing a bit of my time. Never!
It’s not a happy ending, it’s just that now I know better.
