Rainy Season: A typical day

Dear Diary,

It is day 2 posting on WordPress since I opened this account. After 2 months of scouring the data bases of Google & YouTube, shadowing various bloggers & YouTube channels, desperately searching for any and all knowledge about how an average blog & YouTube channel operate, I finally summoned the courage to start the Dew Diary.

Been an avid Diary Keeper for most part of my latter teen years, I have to bashfully admit I only clocked in entries to record momentous life events, or attempt to empty out my deepest anguish, pains, regrets, on paper. There are times even the closest confidante can never understand what you are going through and seem to get peaked when their bubbly optimistic, always-smiling friend shows them their human, bitter side. So, as a service to humanity, one must attempt to bottle the more cynical feelings of disappointment / reality checks into words and transfer them via ink unto pages seen only by a future me.

Aha!!! This post meandered it’s way into the more melancholy side of yours truly, who sits here with pad in hand, cross legged on a yellow furred sofa, as rain drops fall steadily all around my cocoon. My market produce lay forgotten in bowls on the floor and side tables, my previously energetic intentions of storing away and cooking pounded into nothingness with each roar of thunder.

A sneak peak from the safety of my slightly ajar door shows this view:

A mere 4 hours prior, the warm golden sun rays shone through darkening grey edged fluffy clouds in the silver sky backdrop. I had just gotten breakfast and a packed lunch for my husband and seen him off as he left towards later half of the morning. Checked my wordpress for my first ever friend, who inspired & encouraged me to analyse the effects of the tropical climate on my mood and creativity.

Suddenly, been more aware of my surroundings, a lightbulb, a Eureka like experience, turned on in my soul, said good riddance to the meek onyinbo (white) insecure iyawo (wife in Yoruba, one of 3 main languages in Nigeria). I noticed my heightened, more bubbly energy this morning was further fueled by the golden interior light of our marital home, a peek outside the windows revealed brilliant sun rays shining down from a rain laden, grey-fluffy clouded sky.

Palm tree

Our touch of tropical paradise

My years of experience here a hurried reminder that the weather could turn on me any moment, my lack of fresh farm produce prompted me to start packing for a quick dash to the nearest market locale. An umbrella…check; recyclable shopping bags…check, a water bottle for my trek to the main road…check; money and house keys….check check! My fledgling blogger instincts had me dashing back to the house for my tablet…the only portable camera source I have. All my research, tips & hacks on starting a blog on a budget (make best use of what you have!) came flooding back to me!

For first time since I got married a few months ago, I did not want to hide my “white ” skin wrapped around my head and shoulders like a shawl, makeshift hijab. I didn’t want to draw any more undue attention to people from afar as I made my way through the dirt roads of this more rural part of town to the main road (mini express road leading to the next town in one direction and to the city center in the other direction). So I would endure stuffy heat, just for the covered protection and my mind would take comfort that I could sneak through the neighbourhood and market undetected until people caught a closer glimpse of my face.

I made my way carefully through the dirt roads, rain and mini streams eroded the paths further that it was uneven and any wrong step I may slip or lose my footing.
Now that I wasn’t rushing through the neighbourhood, with my head down, flying as fast as my feet could carry me, I admired the tropical foliage, make shift farms (of maize, Coco yam, different leafy greens) on undeveloped plots of land & the neighbour’s mini gardens surrounding their fences.

I will continue my adventures at the market in another post…stay tuned