The other day Vanilla Aima and I had a pyjama party at mine because we’re really 6 year olds trapped in adult frames. In the middle of our goss-fest, she told me that the marriage statistics for Nigeria indicate that divorce rates are currently in the double digits. In fact, and I fear to repeat this largely from my distrust of hyperbole, but the statistics stated that the divorce rate in Nigeria is currently at 52%. Now, we engaged in a robust argument discussion on this point for over 30 minutes, with me being absolutely disbelieving. HOW CAN?! Or as we say in Nigeria, “HAH MANAGE?!” Lol. How??!
It’s a given in Nigeria that movement on Saturday must be carefully coordinated to avoid what is summarily termed ‘Wedding Traffic’. The larger proportion of the population on any given Saturday appears to be wedding-bound come 10:30am in the morning. Entire cities are awash with high-heeled ladies holding men in bent hats, all resplendent in neon-coloured aso-ebis matching neon ribbons strung on vehicles baring, “ABOUT TO WED!!!”…How does that excitement dampen into divorce? 52%? Meaning 1 in every 2 weddings?
Bruh, show me yo’ receipts!
I am not delusional, I know without a shred of doubt that divorce rates are on the rise. After all I have heard of young women quitting marriages within the first two years on grounds as varied as impotence and voodoo. This is Nigeria #TIN. Many women today are marrying in comfort…not for comfort. With good jobs and better opportunities, the tolerance level for B.S is understandably lower. While many women of older generations stayed in difficult marriages for economic reasons, today’s financially-liberated women are choosing singleness to suffering. And I cannot blame them.
I truly can’t.
For people to choose themselves first; their sanctity, peace of mind and joy, for me will always be a selfless rather than a selfish act. Who told you you do not deserve peace…even at the shame of others? Please WWJD? Jesus died for you…so you wouldn’t have to die for yourself. Lol. Abeg, I cannot come and go and die for someone else’s sin biko!
But that’s not what I’m writing about today. I may sound like a mad feminist, an anti-marriage warrior, an overly independent Agent of Darkness, but before you throw the tire and kerosene over my head, listen. I LOVE love. I LOVE marriage. I think women AND men thrive and bloom in good marriages and that’s why I’m writing a series of notes for myself on loving correctly. In a few posts here, I hope to do a Love Series. Now I may not know everything about love but here’s what I realise. First, I am a chronic lover of myself. A friend of mine who had perfected the art of consistently being one half of a whole within relationships, asked how I stayed alone for what she considered an inordinately long time, without getting lonely. I told her, we can only give what we have. We choose to be with people not because we are running away from time alone with ourselves…but because with the person we eventually choose, we realise that we are better together than we are by ourselves. So a relationship results from an abundance or overflow of self-love…rather than a lack or need of it.
Secondly, I’ve been priviledged to watch at close range, the machinations of a happy couple who have been together for well over 30 years…and would still choose each other for a further 50 years if asked. This is a priviledge few people I know have been lucky enough to witness. Fragmented homes sometimes lead to fractured people; men and women suspicious and cynical of the power and purity of love. My sisters and I have been favoured with great parents. I have made a few observations on life and love from these two true soul mates, they are my parents and two of my closest friends.
In addition, at church a few weeks ago the pastor completed a series on love and made so many excellent points that it hurt my chest to not see my friends and sisters in the congregation! I know so many of us would have benefited from his truth. I learnt so much and I feel compelled to share. Because Saint *Insert halo here*.
Final reason for the Love Series? Hell, it’s my party and I can cry if I want to!
Oh Wendelyn! 