I had my fears while growing up. I was afraid of the dark like every other child.
I hated dogs and chickens (especially the ones with new chicks).
I stayed away from troublesome boys and girls that jest too much.
The sight of a policeman with a gun or the smell of a car exhaust. Just to mention a few.
Time did its duties and i learned to live with some, others I avoided altogether.
One fear however never left, it shaped my thoughts and lifestyle.
I attended religious camps with extra caution and anything that involved staying away from home was treated with special care. I watched my diet, how much i played and with whom i spent the night, even my dream was not excused as i prayed to not have any. I had insomnia as sleeping was a risk.
I cried and begged when my parents wanted to send me to a boarding school and i’d rather be an introvert than have multiple friends that would increase the chances of a sleepover.
I blamed it on my training, feeling my parents did not do their duties.
I browsed the internet for solutions but discovered several white people who were convenient with the situation. I am not white, i am very black and Yoruba. ‘I must be cursed’: I thought at some point and considered going for deliverance.
The last incidence that wrecked every bit of esteem i had left was a visit to my now ex-boyfriend’s house. I was 26 years old and have had dry nights for one year.
I felt the worst was over. I’m still trying to figure if i had too much to drink or did not employ my well learned precautions.
All i know is : we both woke up in a pool of concentrated urine.
Photo Credit: Wendu.com