BEAUTY BEHIND THE MADNESS
The Pain. Shame. Help. Syndrome
The Pain and The Shame associated with asking for help is second to none…
I was taught never to ask for help especially from men because they always want something in return and girls… well they are either saving the help for their lovers or themselves. I have seen people go to hell and back to help me and often times I have done the same but it’s such a hard thing to ask.
Why? There’s often a certain shame that comes with asking. You are either afraid to be considered as weak or you don’t want people to know you are struggling that much or you have been hurt by their words before or those of others so you stay away from the embarrassment. The why for me is embarrassment because I have swallowed that before so I have PTSD in that department.
My mum made me always come to her whenever I needed anything.. I mean anything. She’d rather shoulder the burden than have me asking one guy that would have to sleep with me for me to get it. I always felt she was paranoid and asked her anyways. The stories I heard about what men wanted in return for help were crazy. I was already independent by the time I was in secondary school so uni was a no brainer as I even took care of my boyfriend back then.
Service was when my eyes really opened up about asking for help. A lot of people don’t really know this story but I tell you.. it’s one you’d relate to and thoroughly enjoy.
Going for service was very important to me at the time it came. I had tried to kill myself earlier that year, I was a volunteer teacher at a pre school which was frustrating me and I was engaging in very unfruitful pity sex with someone that was supposed to be one of my best friends. I was supposed to go to camp.. loose weight and move forward.
So, I cut my hair.. went to camp with my friends, and had the best time. I actually lost weight, there were a few down times but I was getting my life back on track or so I thought. I made lots of new friends, so after camp, I did most things with them. For me it was easier to move in group than do it alone. Deep down, I still felt alone but I hid it well and played as a team. Then we had to look for a place to stay before looking for a place to work.
In camp my tomboy was full blown so I didn’t get “toasted” but made genuine friendships. My friend from Jigawa arrived and we were going to all live together. Looking for a house was the craziest thing. From haunted houses, to houses that were burial sites to incredibly scary environments.. it was crazy and deployment was getting close. I had an accident and ended up with a bad leg.. ughh.. what a time!!
We couldn’t find a place to live (me and my friend ) for 2 — 3 months after camp. We were asking for help but in a new city, new town? it was really scary. When I went home for the break before real service started, I planned with my friend that we will stay at one church house till we found a place to live.. our host had agreed to accommodate us. Then I met this Good Samaritan stranger at the park. He had missed his flights and so he rushed to take a bus instead.. or so he said. He had business in Uyo and he enjoyed watching my mothers public display of affection with me. He sat next to me in the bus.. got me food at our stops and wouldn’t stop talking to me. I then told him my stranded story and plan.. he gave me his number and told me if I ever needed help I should call.
I got to our planned location and after off loading my things from the Keke I decided I couldn’t sleep there. It was far from where we imagined and we had to leave the next week anyways. So I called this guy.. and he told us to come to his friends hotel where we would sleep separate rooms. That was the first person I asked for help that period that started ruining it for me.
So we went to the hotel scared but hopeful.. we only had each other. We slept in separate room for 2 days.. he would come, gist with us after our day and then go to his own room. On the third day he invited us over to his room and said his friend wasn’t aware of us taking that room blah blah.. some excuse . At this point we had no where to go so we moved into his room. We stayed for one night and the next day, he asked us to leave that his girlfriend was coming over and he couldn’t explain 2 girls.. so the thing is.. he tried to do a few things sometime earlier but it wasn’t working.. so he asked us to leave.. it was so fishy.. so we packed our bags, called a few people and we got a chance to stay at this building.. not completed .. no foam no curtains.. just concrete and iron door. So we made a room out of it.
A friend of mine helped us get someone who was willing to host us so we went. Remember.. I had other people from camp (the ones that didn’t relocate) who were in Uyo as well but I was afraid to call for help and the others that did pick up, were looking for houses too.
This friend picked us up, bought 1k fuel, made us buy him food and then took us to his house. In the dark of his house, he asked us if we smoked weed and wanted to see how we will act after smoking. It was so scary, we had to leave the next day. We stayed in that building and a few other places till we found a house.. we just needed the person to pass out .. so we can move in. Btw, it was hard not to be desperate and just pick any house and move in. It had to be the right space, environment and good proximity to work. I had to get a good PPA.
I went to the school I was transferred and they rejected me and so we started job haunting. After a few tries, we went to Ministry of House and Urban renewal where I was accepted. We met this lovely young lady who accepted to host us. We stayed there till we got work, started work and then one day we came back from work and met our things outside. We were not ready to move in yet. The money wasn’t complete, the place wasn’t ready, we had bought additional things we needed aside everything I brought from Benin to Uyo. My mum is a real champion!
We finally moved in to our house after the pass out but I did experience so many people that said no and people who said yes and wanted things in return… our lives were in danger a lot and sometimes people’s expectations while offering help were too scary to accept or became the reason for fights later on
How do we make our lives, our circles, our spaces a place where helping isn’t something that is a chore or requires a pay back, loyalty or some form of debt but something free flowing and honest and if help cannot be rendered, it should be stated clearly and honestly without someone being pressured to lend a helping hand. ???
