Growing up, I really could not wait to leave my parent's house. The fact that I did not have the freedom I wanted was really annoying to me. My parents wanted me home by 6pm when I saw adults in my neighborhood stay out till even 10pm. Why disrupt the fun when it is just getting started? Other parents could even let their kids stay out till 8pm, but mine wanted you home at exactly 6pm, and that really interfered with the fun of hanging out with friends.
I really did think adulthood was easy. I saw adults keep a straight face, they paid their bills comfortably, adults at family gatherings got to eat two or more pieces of meat while we as kids got only one. They moved around doing all that was expected of them with so much composure and calmness that screamed, "I have everything under control," and all of that made adulthood enticing and something I wanted to experience.
After graduation from college, before I moved in to live with an uncle to help me cut costs, I was living in my little rented apartment. I had just come back from work, thrown my bag on the bed, and made my way to the kitchen so I could prepare something to eat, but what I saw in the kitchen left me shocked. There was only raw rice in the kitchen and not a single ingredient to prepare the rice with. All I had on me, both in my savings account and current account, was 2,000 naira I had set aside and planned to use for transportation to work the next day. Tampering with it meant I might not go to work the next day.
I stood there staring at the rice, not knowing what to do or who to call to come to my aid. There and then, the first thing I noticed was the silence that swept through the room and my stomach rumbling to remind me the last time I ate something was approximately 9 hours ago. At that moment, I remembered how my mom called me to eat dinner, the fights with my siblings, and everything about childhood, and how I disliked being a child then because of how I was treated and how badly I wanted to become an adult to escape all that treatment. While I was reminiscing and smiling, my phone buzzed, bringing me back to reality.
I looked at my screen and it was my mom calling. I had to sit up so I would not sound depressing and cause her to start worrying.
"Hello, Mr. Working Class." My mom teased.
"Haha" I laughed "Good evening ma." I greeted.
"How are you doing?" She asked.
"I am fine mommy, how is everyone at home?" I asked.
"They are fine," she responded. "Have you eaten?" She asked, like always.
"Yes ma." I lied.
"Hmmmm." Mom made a sound showing she did not believe me. "What did you eat?" She asked.
"Rice," I responded.
"Rice and what? How was the rice prepared? Is it jollof?" She asked, even more curious to find out the truth.
"It is stew mom, stop doubting me." I said, knowing fully well she was ready to keep going until I eventually spilled out the truth.
"You sound tired" she said softly
"Work was stressful," I responded softly.
"It is part of the adulthood you always wanted," she said, and I could hear from the sound of her voice that she had a big smile on her face because whenever I talked about wanting to become an adult so badly, she would say, "Adulthood is not easy oo," but I always ignored the warning.
"I did not know adulthood comes with so many bills to pay," I responded.
"Welcome to adulthood," she said as she burst into laughter, showing she had been holding it back.
Somehow, I was forced to learn strange adult skills because I needed to survive somehow. I calculated my transport fare to work and from work. Somehow, I learned to stay calm even in the midst of chaos. I learned to eat the same food 3 times a day and sometimes for days and then I try to convince myself that I was feeding well, and it was at that time that I also realized that the freedom I craved as a child came with a price.
After the call ended, I sat on my bed and just sighed.
Earlier that week, my boss had called me to his office.
"Kachi, you are smart, but if you want to keep this job, you need to be more dependable than just being smart," my boss advised.
Adults use words like dependable, responsible, reliable, and so on and so forth until it is them that is expected to be any of those things. While I was still thinking about what my boss said to me and wondering how I could be more dependable in order to keep my job, my phone started ringing again. It was Dera, my close friend from college. He had dropped multiple messages on WhatsApp, but since I was busy, I replied to none.
"Hello, dear graduate," he said the moment I picked up the call.
"My fellow graduate," I responded, but I could not put up the act that I was okay anymore. I just had to be myself and sound as tired and hungry as I was.
"Why are you sounding like someone whose village people are succeeding in making life a living hell for?" Dera asked.
"Bro, they are actually succeeding bro," I responded in a very low tone because at that time I felt like the hunger wanted to remove my intestines.
"What happened?" Dera asked.
"Bro, adulthood is a scam ooo. A lot is doing me bro," I lamented.
"Okay, one at a time, what and what is doing you?" Dera asked.
"My toothpaste finished this morning bro, and I panicked because I don't have money anywhere to buy another one, and I felt like that was the worst thing that had happened. I came back from work and all I have in my room is rice, no single spice to cook the rice with," I narrated my ordeal to Dera.
"Our parents really tried. They shielded us and we did not even see or feel any of this growing up. Now as adults, that shield is no more and it is hitting us directly," Dera said.
"I wonder how they did it. I feel like they have it all figured out, no confusion, no panicking, they just do it without even flinching," I responded, really wondering how our parents were able to do it comfortably.
"Bro, I had a conversation with my mom last week and I realized even our parents don't have it all figured out. As an adult, you just have to keep improvising and pretending everything is okay while you try to figure it out," Dera said.
"So adulthood is going about pretending you have it all under control even when you don't?" I asked.
"Exactly, you just don't go around announcing that you don't have things under control as an adult. My dad also concurred, and that brought me some relief because I felt like I was doing something wrong," Dera responded.
Hearing that even our parents don't have it all figured out made me realize I was not lost like I thought I was. I was not the loser I was starting to perceive myself to be despite putting in my all. For the first time in months, I felt like a weight was lifted off my chest and I did not feel like I was drowning.
