About a week ago or so, I was red with measles. And pls, before you start covering your eyes with the blood of Jesus, chill! you cannot contract it from merely reading this post so don’t fright. Unless of course you’v offended me in the past, then you should start scratching in advance because your measles is on the way.
I didn’t quite understand the reason I would be having measles at my age. I mean, at this stage in my life where I should be busy marrying the likes of Prince Harry, touring the world with him in our royal jet, kissing his royal lips, preying on his royal PS & taking royal selfies at every nook and cranny of the royal palace with caption,’badbelle is allowed’, twenty-something-year old me was here ripping her clothes off, scratching her senses away & looking like an abandoned ghost after swimming in a pool of calamine lotion all in the name of measles.
My nephew & nieces couldn’t recognize me anymore. One evening as i was walking to the sitting room after baptizing myself with calamine lotion from the crown of my head to the sole of my feet, my little nephew saw me & started to run & cry. I thought he had seen a roach so I hastened towards him to kill the supposed roach but then, my niece appeared from no where with her big mouth.
Me: (refering to her) Esther, go and bring that my wooden shoe let me kill the cockroach that’s pursuing him.
Esther: Aunty it is not any cockroach. Is you!
Me ke? (almost in tears)
Esther: Yes is you! Everytime you rub that your calamine lotion. You will just be looking like ojuju(masquerade) & be scaring us. Aunty pls stop scaring us in this house! Michael stop crying. Is not ojuju you hear?
I stood speechless for the next five minutes asking Amadioha if it was okay to swallow a 5-year-old. How could a child not have conscience? How could she be so rude after all the times I packed her poo without covering my nose?
I only noticed the measles rashes one thursday morning i was preparing for work. I had proceeded to the bathroom to take my bath but realised my body stinged with every scrub. ‘Is God trying to tell me something? Could it be that my body no longer accepts local sponge? speak Lord. don’t stop speaking. Kudi zo yanzu owo waaaaaa ego biabia’, I spoke in tongues with hands lifted up.
I got out of the bathroom & as the acting president of na them dey rush us Nigeria limited, I donned my sleeveless bodycon dress that always had a way of flattering my small endowments in case I met my husband somewhere, pumping out his Benz tyre.
I finished dressing & went to the balcony to check me out since the room was ill-lit and there was no standing mirror anywhere in the
room house. Our balcony window always served us the purpose of a perfect standing mirror. It has all the snapchat filters, imaginerily. On days when I had no strength to hop to the balcony, I survived with the small mirror in my brown powder case, my cracked phone screen or the base of our ancient stainless cup. With that stainless cup you can see anything including your future reflection.
Anyways, I got to the balcony & my reflection was that of a Nigerian Cinderella with all endowments popping. I took a real look at my hands and what I saw? Millions of red rashes! Immediately my eyes met with those rashes, I started itching all over. Y’all should have seen me. You wouldn’t have believed I was peace of Cliquetalk. I aggressively scratched my scalp and roughened my 1,500naira human hair which later turned synthetic. I pulled off everything I had worn, and in-between my pulling and scratching, I tried to reassure myself it was only measles and not madness. I kept screaming ‘your name is peace and you are not mad. You studied pharmacy for 2years & abandoned it for a less stressful course. Your name is peace and you are not mad!’
Few minutes later, the itching subsided. knowing the situation, I couldn’t wear anything that would reveal even a single flesh so i made do with one 1951 widow-inspired gown that effortlessly swallowed me up. I wore that unglorifying dress bcoz I feared other passengers on the bus would see my red skin, secretly take a photo of me, post it on twitter with hashtag #femalepatricksawyer, and then wrap me up in a big yellow sack thinking i had Ebola.
That day wasn’t the best day of my life. I was practically looking like a widow. Yes, I saw guys in Benz but they must have assumed I had recently lost my husband judging from the way I was dressed & my red face. Most people who passed me would tap each other, point at my direction & shake their heads. My subconscious kept telling me it was me they were pitying. The supposed young widow.
The measles continued from days to weeks and successfully followed me to sallah with its unbearable itches, fever, fatigue & multiple swollen lymph nodes. I remember a silent blog visitor messaged me that Sallah day, asking the reason I didn’t make any post to celebrate Sallah. How would I have made any post uncle? You were in your house vandalizing a poor ram and sucking its bone marrow with 2bottles of burukutu while I was on my wall all day like 👇
If you were in my shoes uncle, would have had any post inspiration?
Prior to the time I had measles, I knew I’d fall sick around that time, only that I wasn’t expecting measles. You see, since this year, my period developed this habit of getting me ill a day or hrs before it comes. On rare days when It doesn’t get me ill, it’d give me intensive mood swings. I’d get sad over very stupid things.
Random person: Peace why you so moody?
Me: My dear, It’s Tupac o. He is dead. (As if it was today he died)
I’d be so unsettled, restless & sad but over what? Michael Jackson! Did his nose really fall down? My period can make me remember how Caine killed Abel and I’d be sober for hours. I won’t reply messeges nor pick calls. I’d be seriously sad.
Sis: Dinner Is ready .
Me: I am not eating.
Me: Because Caine killed Abel.
Before 2018, my period had manners. I was a happy girl with a happy period & a happy life. Back then, I would be on my period and forget I was. I would dance, jump, roll & somersault to river Zambezi yet feel no pain. No pad shifting. No sickness. No mood swings. The highest period sign was always a lonely pimple dotted on my forehead which always disappeared after few spoons of ijebu garri with enough dano milk.
I am making this post bcoz I don’t know who I offended. Who is doing this to me? My sister said changes could happen with periods but why do I feel this my village people at work? To every lady reading this, if you are the one who mistakenly swapped your period with mine, please, come and take your period! I am begging you. People are beginning to ask my genotype bcoz of how often I fall sick. My pharmacist is tired of me. And my doctor? The last time I went to the hospital he said ‘you again?‘ I have incurred hospital bills for my family members bcoz if its not my stomach, it is my head or my left butt. something must be paining me.
I have slept sound yet woke up to lots of mouth blisters all because of this period that is claiming to be my own. I have treated malaria & typhoid consecutively. I have also had an ear infection. Yes, I have had it all. As I write this to you, I already have my own drug box. I literally have all the drugs you can think of in my box. I am now a chemist. The only drugs I don’t have is the one for kwashiorkor. Whenever my neighbours are feeling sick, they come to me like ‘peace o, that drug you used that time you were having k-leg, pls give me two packets’. Have I not suffered?
I am sitting here, wondering the reason having a vagina had to come with lots of deep troubles. You see, with the way things are going right now, I may just turn transsexual bcoz these men have no troubles dealing with their PS both small, medium, large & xxl. These men do not have periods! They don’t ovulate nor give birth! Their PS only came to this world to help them have fun! According to my own research on PS analysis, the only time a man’s PS is unhappy, throwing tantrums or causes it’s bearer to be restless, is that PS-wrenching moment when Chioma says a big NO to ‘Pls Chioma, trust me. I won’t go in fully. Let me put just the tip’. God bless you as you pretend not to know what I’m talking about.
Happy New month Fam❤