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WHO TELLS YOUR STORY?
Nneka Odi
Nneka Odi
7 months ago


A popular adage says that 'Experience is the best teacher' but I believe that the experience must not necessarily be mine before I can learn from it. This explains why I like to read biographies as I am of the view that a person's life story is a collection of their memories which cumulates into their experiences. This gives me a clearer glimpse into their lives and helps me to understand why they did the things they did.


On my own, I cannot remember anything of my life from when I was born up till when I was four, so I can only tell stories of those stages of my life by relying on the fond memories of my parents who often regale me with stories of the funny things I did at those ages. As I grew older, I am able to share my experiences and tell my story but from my own perspective as a female.


From my experiences over the course of my life, I have many stories to tell. Some stories, I have had to relearn my experience so as to tell a better version of that story.

One of such instances is that as a kid, I did not think much about the difference between the female and male genders. All I knew was that I was a girl and that there were others around who are boys. My knowledge of gender roles were drawn from observing activities around me. 


One of such learning moments was from a popular game which kids played back then. To start the game, the children held their hands together and formed a circle. To kickstart the game, someone, usually a self appointed leader would shout, 'Form a big circle' and others would chorus 'like your mother's cooking pot. Of course, I assumed that the cooking pots in our kitchen belonged solely to my mother. 


At the start of the game, after the circle is formed, the children would proceed to sing a song part of which the words include,

'...Mother in the kitchen cooking rice.

Father in the palour watching film.

Children in the garden playing ball..."


In my little mind, mothers had the sole responsibility of cooking for their families and I assumed that I would play that role once I became a mother. I usually joined others to happily sing that song but somewhere in my subconscious mind, it had already been registered that house chores were meant for Mummy alone and Daddy was not expected to do any.


I got a taste of bias on basis of my gender many years later after I had graduated from the university and was job hunting. I was positive that I would land a job quickly because I graduated with good grades. Unfortunately, my joy was cut short when upon interviewing at a firm, the principal informed me that even though he was impressed by my grades and my answers during the interview, he could not give me the job because I was female. He insisted that he preferred a male for the role. I was devasted because I was being written off solely on the basis of my gender without been given the opportunity to prove my worth. 


 Now, I know and I can tell a better version of the story on gender roles. Both genders should be treated equally and neither should be written off just because of a societal stereotype.


Some of my stories happened and set the pace for a learning moments in the future. I recall one of such incidents, that happened when I was about nine years old. I was a member of the children choir in the children church arm of my church. One Saturday, I went for choir practice and as young girls were wont to, when one of us announced her intention to use the toilet, about three others including myself followed suit. Two sisters were part of the group that visited the toilet.


I had just come out of the toilet, washed my hands and was waiting for the others when one of the sisters asked her sister what the latter just put on her pant. Apparently, the second sister folded a piece of paper in half and placed it on her pant. We were all puzzled as to why she would do that and upon further inquiries, she admitted that one of her Aunties used to put something on her (the aunt's) pant before wearing it. This didn't make sense to me at the time but when I started my periods a few years later, the memories came rushing back. I realized that my friend from many years back was trying to mimic her Aunt using a pad when on her period. 


Furthermore, some stories capture a definite and unchanging memory that is nostalgic. I feel these kinds of stories should be told as they happened because they contain life lessons. One of such stories happened in December 2023 when I had a baby. Well-wishers who heard the good news the next day were pleasantly surprised because I had interacted with a good number of them on the evening of the day I went into labour. In answer to a neighbour who in surprise stated, 'But I just saw her yesterday. When did this happen? My husband said, 'Labour started around six o'clock in the evening and I took her to the hospital. She gave birth a few minutes before 9 o'clock that night."

While my husband was right in his narration of how my labour went, I strongly felt the story was lacking in many aspects and far from complete.


This then begs the question; In a scenario witnessed by myself and other persons, whose story should be accepted as the correct version? Is it my version or the version of the other persons present? That is, assuming that everyone is speaking the truth.


This is akin to a court case where a judge is obliged to give a fair hearing to all parties in a case so that they can each state their own side of the story. 


To answer this, I rely on the words of Robert Evans wherein he states as follows,

'There are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth. And no one is lying. Memories shared serve each differently."


So, who should actually tell your story? Others may want to tell your story and they can and it may be their truth but you should tell your story too because it is yours and the power lies in your hands to set the narrative.


Now, I will tell the story of the day I gave birth. In the early hours of that day, about 3 am. I woke up due to a mild stomach ache. It was a mild discomfort and I thought it might be due to something I had eaten the day before. After stooling, I felt better and I was able to sleep.


When I woke up later that morning, I felt well enough to go to work and I was in very high spirits at work. I had a lot of tasks that had me walking into and out of a lot of offices. At the close of work, I came home, had a good meal of vegetable soup and I started to arrange some documents which I would need at work the next day.

Then the pain hit me. I tried to ignore it but it came again and continued to do so in quick succession. I soon left for the hospital where my labour progressed until I had my baby.


This is my story and I have told it.



#WM2024

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