This weekend, Temitope Ojomuyide writes about a young lady who had to weigh the costs and choose what was most important to her. The story is divided into two parts. The other part would be posted next week Saturday. Enjoy!
I woke up that morning, unwilling to leave my bed. I had worked late into the night, putting together my new book and the blaring sound of my alarm was only a rude interruption to the rather sweet sleep I was enjoying.
“I only slept 10 mins ago, why on earth is my alarm blaring already?” I thought to myself.
I cast off my blanket and reached for the alarm at the head of the bed. My eyes widened, it was 11am. I remember going to bed at about few minutes to six. I can’t imagine 5 hours flew by so quickly. It really did feel like 10 mins.
“I really have to slow down on this working late into the night, now I only have an hour to prepare for my appointment at noon.”
“But how could I slow down?” I said aloud this time.
Not with 2 weeks to the deadline given by my publisher. I had postponed writing this book long enough; it was either now or never.
As I made to go the bathroom, my phone rang. It was Mr Smith, my publisher. I thought of not answering but the call persisted. Before I could mutter a greeting,
“Hello Miss Solape, how are we doing today on the book? What chapter are you on now? Almost done?”
“Good mor…” I tried to respond.
“Did you say two more? Two more chapters to go? That’s great news. You know, we have started working on a cover and… ” He cut me short.
“Mr Smith” I said emphatically, “I said good morning. I still have five more chapters to go.”
“Five?” The word sounded like a scream.
“We only have two weeks left Miss Solape. 14 days. How do you intend to finish up before then? Look if you miss this deadline, I’m afraid we may not be able to work with you again. We have so much on our plate right now and we cannot afford a delay.”
“Okay sir, I’ll double up my speed.”
“You better do, you better do.” He said in his usual husky tone and he ended the call. He would pass very well for a dictator.
I sat back on the bed and rubbed my temple where a throbbing headache was already gathering tempo.
“What a way to start the morning.”
I rolled my eyes at no one in particular. Mr Smith and his usual way of mounting pressure on people.
“Hian” I scoffed.
“Was there more than 24 hours in a day? Would I kill myself? Who even sent me to write a book sef?”
I glanced at my reading table and saw the unfinished plate of rice. I could say I was already killing myself with lack of sleep and food. I went to the table and picked the chicken on the rice.
There were two empty bottles of coke lying on the floor with several wrappers of biscuits, plantain chips and chocolate. My mother must neither see nor hear about this. She disliked junk foods.
I could swear my mother heard her name or something when my phone rang and it was ‘Dear mom’ calling. I felt like crying. No, don’t get me wrong. I’m more than happy to her from my mom but… You know how it is. Nothing like a brief call with your mother. No, not a Nigerian Yoruba mother. I finally picked up.
“Hello mommy.” I tried to sound as excited as possible.
“Oluwasolape, how are you? Your voice is croaky. Are you just waking up? It’s almost noon o and why did it take you so long to answer the call? Were you not with your phone?”
“Mom,” I replied as calmly as possibly “I’m doing fine.”
I ignored her other questions.
“I haven’t heard from you in like two days, what’s going on?”
I was in luck today. I avoided her questions and she didn’t repeat them. Wawu!
“Hello oo, Solape are you still there?”
“Sorry mummy. No problem ma. I have been busy.” I regretted saying that immediately.
“Too busy to call your mother, too busy?”
“No mommy, I was going to call you later today.” I lied.
It seemed she could tell I was lying.
“Which later? Shuke! A girl that will not call her mother from time to time, ish! Anyway, do you still have soup? I’m coming for Mrs Adelaja’s daughter’s wedding on Saturday. Should I bring some for you?”
” Aww, thank you mommy, I haven’t even finished the last one.”
“Ehn? Since two weeks ago?” Her voice was rising now.
“Have you been eating at all? How can that soup still remain, Oluwasolape?”
“Mom, I have been busy.”
“O pari! Too busy to call me, I swallowed that one. But too busy to eat,emi o gbo yen ri oo. No wonder you’ve been losing weight.”
Why did I say ‘busy’
Is it that your book? Ehn, Solape answer me. Is it that book you’re writing that is doing you like this? Talk to meo, because that is how you will keep quiet and not talk. Answer me!”
I rubbed my forehead again, the headache was throbbing full gear now.
“Mom, I’ll work on it. I’ll do something about it.”
“Tohh, awon eleebo, you will work on it. Eating has now become something you will work on, okayoo. “.
“Mum, I have to prepare for a meeting.”
“Okay dear. Just take care of yourself and eat o”.
“Yes mommy. Byee”.
I dropped my phone on the bed and glanced at the wall clock. It was quarter to 12. I didn’t know whether to shout or cry. I dashed into the bathroom immediately making a mental note that I’d have my quiet time later in the night.
Two weeks flew by like lightning. It seemed as if hours and days grew wings. I worked myself to a frenzy. I was only grateful that I didn’t have a nervous breakdown. I was so proud of myself that Sunday morning when I eventually mailed the final draft to Mr Smith. Relief washed over me and I felt like a burden had been taken off me. Finally, I made it. I did it. Phew! I breathed heavily. Now I could go on with my life. It seemed as if I had put everything on hold because of this book, even God. I sincerely couldn’t remember the last time I had quality time of prayer or Bible study. My heart sank. I was supposed to feel happy that I had completed this book but deep down it felt like something was still missing, like something that needed to complete my joy wasn’t there. I sighed.
But was I not writing the book for God’s glory? I wrote the book because I felt God wanted me to. But at that moment, the thought of that was more of a pain than a consolation.
Temitope is a newbie who just discovered her new found love for writing. She anchors her life on God’s unchanging love for her which propels her to follow Him. She is an unrepentant foodie who loves singing and dancing and hopes to learn how to swim soon. You can contact her on Facebook: Temitope Ewaoluwa Ojomuyide or on Instagram: @ewaoluwayimika.
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