I CAN'T EVEN START MY DAY.
It was a Saturday morning—literally yesterday at exactly 8:37 a.m.—when I heard someone shouting my name.
One thing about me: I hate being woken up with shouts or noise. It makes me cry, and starting the day with tears is not cool at all.
It was something about plates and why the plates were just in the sink.
Mind you, I didn't eat a single thing on Friday because I went to work, yet somehow the plates had something to do with me...?
So there I was, with sleep and tears in my eyes, trying to explain whose plate it was—my sister's. The next thing I knew, I was getting a lecture about being the oldest and how I should shout and blah blah blah, which only made me more upset. A headache started immediately.
Already a great start to the day, I know.
Anyways, the plates were later washed by my sister because I'm not washing any plates. I haven't done that since 2020, and I'd like to keep it that way.
After I attempted to gather what was left of my morning, I decided I wanted to wash clothes. My clothes, to be precise.
My khaki and crested vest had been looking at me for two days now. They probably said, *finally*, when they saw me sorting out things to wash.
It was at that moment I started to miss Sunusi, my dry cleaner back in Kano. Though he misplaced my mum's bag—which I still haven't told her about—he washed clothes really well.
I noticed we were out of detergent, which meant I had to ask my brother to help me.
He didn't.
So I stepped out looking like Husseina and not Chidinma that morning—once again, literally yesterday—and went to get detergent from the local crackhead... I mean, kiosk owner.
My mind was very much occupied, and I wasn't in the mood to interact with anybody.
But trust people to want to interact with me like there's a sign on my forehead that says Fun to Chat With.😒
I was peacefully passing by when this man, who was talking to his friend, started catcalling.
"Baby."
"Baby."
"Fine girl."
"Aunty."
"Aunty."
I ignored him the entire time and quickly bought the detergent I needed.
Only for me to leave the kiosk and start hearing the murmurs and complaints of one silly man.
> "I no sabi how young person go dey, she no go greet elders wey stand for her front."
I was already seven steps away from him at this point.
> "This one be like say she know man? She no sabi. You're doing yourself o. I get your type as sister for house, your exact age mate. I even get the one wey go soon born."
At this point, I was about eleven steps away from my house, and the only thing that saved that man was the fact that I was already done with the day—and it wasn't even a quarter past nine.
> "See as she be, idiot. You go just dey act anyhow..."
By then, I had already locked my gate, so I couldn't hear the rest of his rant to himself.
Even his friend looked confused about what the big deal was.
Imagine getting that offended because someone ignored your catcalling.
In summary, a man can and will ruin your day.
It wasn't even 9 a.m.
I'd already cried, been blamed for plates that weren't mine, gotten a headache, been ignored by my brother, and been insulted by a complete stranger because I refused to acknowledge his existence.
All before washing my clothes.
I can't even start my day.
See you whenever something interesting happens.
I bet you tomorrow morning.
BYE!!!!!!
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