Two weeks ago, I turned 57 and I look back and I am so thankful. This is no mean feat. Younger people have been known to suddenly slump and then we ponder, but he was so young. Being alive is a great reason to be thankful to God. In good health and still active requires an amplification of that praise. I am thankful indeed for life’s journeys and I am thankful for even the ones I did not understand. Grateful for the fact that some of the battles were not mine and when the Lord lifted me across danger and fires, I was not even aware. Grateful for my children, my spouse, my parents, my siblings, friends and all.
I have never been one for birthday things, I mean all those mushy things that sometimes can break a marriage but I like to be appreciated. I will not be too angry if you do not buy me red roses on my birthday or a bottle of wine but I will be happy to go to dinner. Over the years my kids and spouse have bought me gifts, but for me the heart that shows love is more important to me than all the red roses in the world.
I love to be spoilt but I do not like pretence so if you were to buy me a thousand roses and sing for me on the main road, it would be nice but it will mean very little to me if after that you are a mean son of a gun, call me names or say nasty things to me in front of your friends. I am a slave to respect and I thank my spouse for giving me that and more.
I believe a woman should be respected, given her due, loved and pampered. If a man sends 1,000 roses and turns the woman into a punching bag, the roses are pretty much from the sewer, meaningless and smelly. Let me live without roses if I am going to get it with a broken nose and therein lies the challenge of today’s modern couples. They revel in the wedding photos, the DJ, the dance. They are all for the wedding and miss out on the marriage. The ladies are interested in surface things, roses, Instagram etcetera, the men are interested in themselves, grooming, rolling with their friends and the marriage is left far behind long after the wedding fizzle is gone.
I was in my early twenties when I married. My spouse is my friend so I am always happy when he takes me to dinner and wishes me Happy birthday, same as when he showers me with gifts. We are now extensions of each other. But this column is not a marriage counselling session, it’s really about turning 57 and owning your destination.
By now you have settled into a comfortable fashion style and no one can stampede you. Now your voice is strong and determined and sure and it’s difficult for anyone to bamboozle you or take you for granted. Now you can travel to far flung places alone and be happy with your own company. See the world, watch a blue butterfly rise in Mauritius from an unusual rose-coloured petal and inhale the crisp air in Malta’s many islands.
This is your life. It’s time to live it. This is when you do not need anyone’s permission to be happy, garrulous, glamorous or walk barefoot on the sands of the beaches of Israel watching malachite waters or dip yourself in the dead sea, emerging happily from that amazing spectacle of nature. This is when you can take that PhD and do it for yourself, invite yourself to dinner and be happy in spite of whatever life has thrown at you.
This is when to be authentic, throw pretence out of the window and begin to live your life. Truly this is when you can choose where you want to go, your choice of office hours and no one and I mean no one can ask you why you had three ice-cream scoops and another and another. Because if you feel like it, you have your own permission to have it. Perspectives shift at 57, you are more tolerant, less judgmental and less angry.
This is when to be authentic, throw pretence out of the window and begin to live your life. Truly this is when you can choose where you want to go, your choice of office hours and no one and I mean no one can ask you why you had three ice-cream scoops and another and another
And so, it was on the 19th of October 2019, when I turned 57 years old, I was on board a domestic airline at 5.30 am in Lagos heading home to Abuja. To travel on one’s birthday is pretty surreal, but I was up for it having had an event in Lagos that lasted into the night the day before. At the Lagos airport, the captain announced that due to weather he had been advised not to take off. I looked out of the window and Lagos seemed to be covered in white cotton candy. And we sat on board for two and a half hours while waiting for the weather to lift. Plane doors were flung open. My 28-year-old self would have gotten angry or become a nervous wreck but I sat there calmly and made new friends and chatted about nothing and everything.
We finally made it to Abuja and I headed home. Wearing an old Kaftan that is easy on the body, I fell in and out of sleep across the furniture architecture of my house, from my bed to the couch in the living room to a wing chair. I had dropped off and caught my forty winks wherever my body said. One of my kids sent a message from school to say “mummy what are you doing for your birthday” and I told her “To sleep, a great plan”. But she responded,” That’s no great plan”. But seriously, it was and I did sleep, and was pretty refreshed after that. After all, I had woken up at 2am so the driver could pick me at 4.30 am, to catch a flight for 6am which did not leave till 8.20 am.
So, there is life. I can sleep on my birthday. I have earned my place in the world and I can pick and own my destination. I am truly blessed. Time to do whatever I want, to float, to watch the sun go down in Morocco, to enjoy white nights in St Petersburg, to be kind but still be no-nonsense, to drink water not a beverage because you can, to laugh heartily and run with sand in your toes with your childhood friends in Cape town and still hop unto the train to Kaduna, ride a camel in Dubai, go to Okpo and Ankpa and Okene and be community inspired and still take a Marwa in Lagos. I am 57 years old; I can choose my destination.
EUGENIA ABU
