Coder Girl #2: We should all be stubborn.
“Adenike, I swear to God if I ever see you go to that so-called institution again for only God knows what, if I don’t disown you,
I’d do something worse that would make you beg me to. Try me!”
“Mummy please na, you don’t get it. This is the only thing I can think of right now that can go good for me.
This is all I know how to do. It is almost the only thing I see myself doing for a long time with my life.
It’s the one thing I can boldly call my destiny mummy.”
“Mummy please, just let me go at least once a week. I promise I’d do other things expected of me you won’t even actually notice my absence.”
“You want me to allow my first and only daughter to waste her life pressing computers, eh? My first daughter that’s supposed to be spending her time kitting up herself to look presentable and willing to go out with all these eligible and rich guys coming around for you?”
“But no! No o! You’ve decided you want to be spending your time on screens and the money we give you on data and LOOK WHAT YOU EVEN DID THIS TIME, YOU GOT A LAPTOP! No wonder you came back skinny. I was wondering whether you were eating at all, I was now even starting to feel guilty that we weren’t sending you enough money. I didn’t even know it was data and this current obsession of yours that you were feeding.”
“Mummy now, mummy now please!” You scream because now you’re both hurt and angry. Hurt because she’s not seeing things from your perspective. Angry because she’s not even listening
or trying to see how important this is to you and you’re at your wit’s end now!
“Don’t you see how important this is to me?! Have I ever so strongly believed in or fo-fought for something this hard? Just once! Just this once allow me to do this one thing that I like and that I want to do. Didn’t you and practically everyone else see it and say it a lot? I’ve had a thing for gadgets for as long as possible.”
“Why are you fighting it now that I have decided to actively follow it? What is so hard for you to understand? Why are you so selfish?” You say that last bit in a whisper.
You’re tired now and the tears you’ve been holding since are already out in full force, but she’s not having it. It seems you’ve riled her up more.
“Selfish? E mi, Selfish?! heeeeeeee!” Then she claps her hands in that disbelief way and then…
“ARE YOU MAD?! How dare you call me that?! I AM YOUR MOTHER! I should be the last person on earth you should ever call that. Do you know the number of sacrifices I have made in this world for you and your siblings? You can’t even repay me half! Single kobo! You won’t be able to do it. I’ve loved and trained you no matter the situation and then just because you can now make tiny decisions for yourself, I cannot hear word again. And you can open your filthy, immature mouth to call me selfish. Ogun fire your papa, not my husband. It’s like you’re mad.
Let me see you write one more line of that thing you call code in this house again, we shall see.”
“In fact, where’s that laptop. Shebi it’s my money you used to buy it.”
She makes a move for your room, and then you know you’re doomed. Because now you know she’s really hurt and angry and would break that laptop if an angelic intervention doesn’t happen.
“Nike’s mummy, what is going on here?” At that point, you can literally kiss all the angels in heaven if you have to because at the sound of his voice she stops, and you can see that she’s calm.
That’s one of the plenty things you love about your dad and their union. His ability to calm him down instantly.
“Your daughter has been spending time and all her resources on this new obsession of hers.” She says
“Oh, programming? I hear about it a lot these days. A lot of young people seem to be into it.”
“Are you on her side now?” oh oh.
“Babe, chill. That’s not the issue, I understand your point. But the truth is, she’s our daughter and if I have any faith in us- which I do, I’d know that we raised her right and taught her how to make good judgement.
It might be different from what we know, and we might not always agree with it, but at least we know she has a good head on her shoulders and is willing to take responsibility for her actions and decisions.”
“Abi Nike my darling?”
“Yes, daddy.?” You reply, with a look from under your eyelashes towards your mum. You lowkey want her to be on your side too.
“I mean look at the girl, she spends 80% of her time on this stuff and then even got a laptop from her savings. If that doesn’t show investments, I don’t know what does. I think we should allow her.” He uses “think” because although he’s on your side and can persuade her, he wants her to have a say in the matter.
She looks at him, then looks at you, then looks back at him. He takes it as a sign to continue.
“I know what you’re thinking. But allow her to try her best first. She’s still young, even if it doesn’t work out at least she and we all know she tried and she can cancel it out. Instead of never knowing.”
“You know what it’s like to badly want something. You were practically the same way at her age. I think the similarity is why you guys clash so much.”
And then he locks eyes with her and says “Let’s allow her babe.”
And you know, that within those few seconds a lot of words have been said.
She diverts her gaze, looks at you again, with less anger and hurt, and then sighs. That’s when you know you’ve gotten her on your side.
“Nike, I love you, and it’s that love that makes me act the way I do most times. However misguided, I am not selfish.”
“I know mummy, I’m sorry-” you say
“Wait let me finish. And it’s not that I don’t trust you or myself that I trained you well. But, a mother is always a mother and she’s also supposed to support you. So, I’m sorry I made you feel hurt or that I was selfish. I will support you-”
“Yayyyyyy-”
“-but only for one year. After that, I will reevaluate my position.”
That was six months ago. You’ve kept a goal calendar ever since then and have been calculating how to achieve your goals within a year amidst crossing every day out.
Within those six months, you’ve battled with data structures and algorithms for a whole month and a half, and even until now some of them are still unfamiliar, but you’re pushing.
You’ve applied for six internships (one every month) and gotten five rejection emails. Daunting, scaring, scarring, traumatizing, but you’re not stopping. You’ve signed up for a bunch of courses,
completed them and even gotten certificates. It’s just, there’s no real work experience yet for you and somehow you badly want one.
This last month, they advised you to apply for a junior developer role at this remote company you spoke about in passing, you were reluctant at first, but then you did it.
These days, your parents even cheer you on and seem more invested in your progress than you do. Mum even called you from work to remind you that you’re supposed to get an email today and regardless of what comes out, you’ll succeed at this.
It’s supposed to motivate you, but the fact that she’d think there’s a possibility of you not getting it rubs you off the wrong way. So you mutter inaudible words and hang up. You’d see each other later.
Dad kept a bottle of Lucozade boost and Yoghurt on your table. They are your go-to comfort drinks.
Do your parents even know what their so-called kind gestures are doing to you?
The universe must be against you.
You did not go to the hub today, because you’d like to get the news privately first, at the hub, there are too many heads looking over your shoulder.
You get a ping from your phone signalling a notification. You’re on the Gmail message box and your data is on, so the message syncs and reflects.
You tell yourself you’re not tensed and it’s not the first of its kind, but your shaky hands and constant deep breaths say otherwise.
Two minutes later you’re on the phone; it’s a conference call.
“I got the job.” And then you cut the call. You just cannot believe it.
They’re calling you back, your phone screen is buzzing with incoming calls and messages from both of them and then some family members that you’re pretty sure your mum has spilt the news to.
She’s fast.
You ignore them, put the phone on silent and then turn it face down. \
You login to Twitter from your laptop and tweet “No be say we smart, na just stubborn we stubborn.”
And then you log out.
You can hear car horns and then the gate is opened, the rest of today will be very busy.
You plug your earphones in, set the music to the highest volume, lock your room door and go to bed.
You’ll see everybody in the morning tomorrow.
