Creative ventures take such a huge part of people who perform them, that in revealing the things they work on, they are forced to offer up more of themselves than they thought. This makes me nervous- the idea of your gradual discovery of me. An outright confession of sorts is my way of controlling the process. It would also free me of any inhibitions about being open with my stories. So this is my offering.
The first ever notion that I remember contemplating was that “life is luck”. This is what my name means. In some ways, I never really believed it. It could not possibly have been luck that made me the only girl in the midst of five male siblings. Life would be way too random. It defined my childhood. Like I was a severe tomboy growing up. I danced and dressed like my brothers. I’m still sort of a tomboy. I regret not doing ballet as a child, but my tutu was too frilly and itchy. It also defines how I see things and what I’m comfortable with. It’s made me hard and soft at the same time, a quality I really like.
I can’t speak a Nigerian language. I sort of understand one (Yoruba), but not fully. I even had extra lessons in it, an embarrassing fact. But that didn’t stop me from drawing pretty lines across the examination answer sheets while others scribbled away knowingly. One day, I’ll shock everyone by speaking it. That’s the kind of person I am. Sometimes, I feel like that language thing, and my isolation from my country for the past five years, discredits my status as a real Nigerian. But I don’t really believe that.
For the last three years of my life, I’ve thrown myself into studying law. I watched a lot of Ally Mc Beal growing up, and desperately wanted to be like her. It’s still a big part of me for simple things to colour my decisions. I also think I was too naive to understand the concept of acting. But now, I feel like there is no way God created me so different to make me so similar to at least half of the Nigerian female population. There has to be more for me.
I’m super greedy with life. I get these itches to do more things. I always try to improve myself, because I’m incredibly hard to please. In the past, my summers have had me juggling internships, tennis lessons, French lessons, creative writing, drawing, cooking lessons, and other goals. I suppose something that scares me is the thought of only living so hard in the summers. I have many passions. But I can’t, and don’t think I should have to pick any one thing. I’m convinced that the clichéd “Jack of all Trades” thing doesn’t apply to me. So I guess I have a quiet arrogance.
I float through a lot of moments. Just thinking and watching. That’s why I’m scared I may never actually drive, although I know how to. I am not sure if I would know where I was going. Whenever I get into a car, I zone out. I just go into a quiet cloudy part of my mind and watch things. And it’s never the road! I’m the hugest voyeur. It’s an obsession on my part to watch people. I like guessing at their stories and experiences. I suppose this is why I like to write and draw, because it makes me more conscious of myself, and I put down a lot of these things that I see.
My future is totally unclear to me. But it has always come despite my ignorance. It is only when it concerns future elements of my life that I believe in the luck my name professes- because I live as though everything right will come. Of course, I make sure I’m prepared for them. But I wait because I don’t always know what they are.
I’m very honest. Not in terms of integrity (although I hope I am) but in terms of my emotions. My face gives too much away. I always have my cards strapped to my blouse. And then I reveal too much when I speak. Perhaps like this? I don’t know.
So that’s my offering. Now you can see where the words and pictures come from. I hope you stay.