Hold up! Oh, ye lovers of the rainy season. Before you jump right into crucifying me, would you be humane enough to allow me the gift of last words? Thank you. In my defense, it is not like I have an outright distaste for the rainy season. I mean, I still have fond memories of playing in the rain as a kid against my parent’s strict orders. I even remember feeling sad whenever the rain teases but ends up not falling. Or, when it does rain but not hard and long enough for fun. But, I’m growing up. Hence, it shouldn’t be surprising that things are no longer how they used to be.
Nowadays, for a plethora of reasons, I am not so much a fan of the rainy season anymore. Apart from the obvious ‘developing nation’ reasons to dislike the rainy season. Flooded roads, the power company using that as an excuse to withhold power. General reasons like the disruption of plans, the delay that comes with sudden and unexpected rainfall have all contributed greatly towards my growing dislike for the rainy season. However, one standout reason I’m particularly losing my affection for the rainy season is… the cold. There you have it. Most especially this year’s cold. It’s like this 2017 cold came with one simple mission. To make life unbearable for me.
I completed my service year in Zaria, Kaduna State. And I still pride myself for how I braved the harsh harmattan in Kaduna. In spite of its harshness, not for once did I have a hot water bath. And not for once did I skip a bath, even though my priors warned it would get to that. What I find surprising now is how I’ve suddenly gone from ‘hard guy’ in the face of Kaduna’s unforgiving cold to a ‘softie’ in the face of this Lagos cold. Is it me? Is something wrong with me? Should I shrug it off or is there genuine cause to be worried?
Before now, my definition of weather for two was downing a hot cup of tea then sliding underneath a blanket. And, for that to happen, it had to be that I got drenched in the rain. Either that or it had rained long and hard enough for my body to react to the drop in temperature. But that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. Nowadays, all at it takes is for just a meager two liters of rain to fall. Just two liters! Next thing you know, I’m shivering like a wet puppy. Buttoning my shirt up to the collar. Rolling the sleeves of my shirt back down – they are usually up. Putting on extra clothing. Covering my feet with socks.
To say I find this strange wouldn’t do justice to the situation. Even stranger and mind boggling is… hot tea and blanket doesn’t do the trick anymore. I have been unsuccessfully trying to make sense of this all-too-sudden change for a while now. Now, I have come to this conclusion. The universe has decided to align with my mother and see that her wishes and desires come to fruition. I mean, why else would hot tea and blanket not do the trick anymore? Why would I, without logical explanation, transform from Jason Statham in Kaduna to Johnny Bravo in Lagos. Honestly, I am not understanding.
Anyways, this rainy season should even go first. In its absence, I can begin to figure things out. Who weather for two don epp? Abegi! No kidding, as I write this the cold I’m feeling under the sole of my feet is killing me. Guys, I’m telling you, hot tea and blanket are not doing the trick anymore. I seriously need help. And, please, don’t tell me to goan marry.
P.S. I hate the dry season too. But that is story for another day. Hopefully, I get frustrated enough to write about it in the future. Till then…
Before you leave, how about checking out some other posts from the blog.