I have been in a situation where I was asking myself if I would survive what was ahead of me, the challenge I would face. It was a tough decision. It happened years ago when I was staying with a family member. At first everything was going rosy, there was unity. After sometimes, things took a turn when this woman started to perceive my contributions around the house as irrelevant. She found joy in belittling my efforts, claiming that there was hardly any work to do in the house, except for sweeping, washing a couple of plates, and cooking. She made it seem like I owed them for the food and accommodation they provided.
Living with people that feel they are the best and perfect and almost what every other person does is wrong is something I can't even wish for my enemy if I have one. This woman seemed to find fault in everything, and her constant nagging and quarreling were exhausting. I dislike it when corrections are delivered with anger. If you think shouting and being authoritative is the way to correct me, you have only bring out the worst in me, as it is my way of expressing that people are different, and understanding each other's personalities is essential.
Her husband had been the one solving the disputes to the point that he got tired. Returning home to hear complaints about irrelevant matters can be draining, and he was fed up. I, too, was tired of the entire situation. Whenever such conflicts arose, she took over the kitchen and acted as the cook. She refused to give me food, saying she wouldn't cook and I eat.
To make a long story short, around this time last year, after yet another shouting match , I can't even call it a quarrel, she took over the kitchen completely. She refused to share any food with me. At that time, I was earning 15,000 naira per month from an 8-hour job. I was scared about how I would manage to feed myself daily on such a limited income, but I couldn't bear the constant tension, the feeling of indebtedness, and the lack of choice she made me felt.
The man of the house was a close relative of mine from my maternal side. He knew my mother would be unhappy if she learned she had entrusted her daughter to his care, only to be chased out. He didn't involve himself in the situation and didn't say anything about his wife's refusal to feed me or her failure to ask me to cook, as she usually did. He never told me to find my own way.
I was frightened about how I would survive during that period. Knowing that my entire month's earnings would be spent on food was daunting, but I was prepared to embark on this journey. It wasn't easy, but it was an experience that taught me I could adapt to any situation.
Considering the rising cost of living, food vendors became careful about with sizes of food. I couldn't cook personlly because it was a flat, and there was no way to do so without my own kitchen. I had to carefully manage my income to ensure I didn't go hungry. I became a regular customer to food vendors, eating two square meals daily. At that time, 500 naira could still get a reasonable meal, unlike the prices we see today. I spent 200 naira on breakfast and 300 naira on dinner. I lived this way for five months, and while it wasn't easy, I survived.
Eventually, I decided to return home voluntarily, especially since there was an ASUU strike that showed no sign of ending soon. From the strike to the COVID-19 lockdown, I was grateful that I had left before those challenging times began.
