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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Thursday, 22 November 2018

Finally, Here I Am


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 76

  The sky is growling and I look up and see nothing, the temperature drops and carries with it a lot of fine particles. It’s mimicking rain, minus the rain clouds and a kind of darkness engulfs the entire atmosphere. I empty my dust pan in my hand filled with grains of sand and fabric particles, the life of a fashion designer. The morning ritual has started and as I stretch and stare again at the placid sky, I know its time to go back inside.
  The Harmattan season is here and as much as I love the wind and cool weather, I am tired of wiping away thick layers of dust.
 I wipe robotically, as if tired of the boring routine. I wipe other three types of fabrics, one is wet and picks up all the dust and leaves a we sludge and the other cleans it up. The final one helps makes it shines and returns all the surfaces back to its clean self. I wash all the fabrics and dry them and then I moisturize my hands.
 I think I am losing track of time and honestly, I have no idea why.
I just know that it has been a while since I filled up my journal. I can give you a thousand reasons why but I am not about excuses, only results. I am trying to stay as positive as I can and trying to change my placid aura as quickly as possible. I know change is inevitable but right now I want that change.
Do you know what I was doing before I started cleaning my house? I played music to try to motivate me a d ended up deleting almost ten before I realized that I needed to stop.
The reason, well I have been waiting for my account to be credited for a job I put my heart and soul into and got nothing. One full month of intense research and sacrifice and the result? Not a single penny. My emotional intelligence has been put to the test and to my great surprise, I failed. They failed to honour our agreement and cost me three months of earnings and I am pissed. The nly things that could get mouth as my motivational audio files or music. And the did not work. It was time to overhaul my tired self and the entire house that still did not feel like a home.
My time has not been mine and it’s a miracle I can even afford to buy food to eat. How did I get from running a successful reality show to been this broke? I spent an hour searching for two thousand naira that I spent shopping for goods that cost much more than I had anticipated. The inflation in this country has crept up into my expenses and my budget seems archaic all of a sudden. So I need to rearrange and restructure my life if I am going to be able to afford to pay my rent next year.
My despair has me thinking of the only woman that actually works with businesses and helps revive their sinking ship. The song that plays makes me stare at my laptop and listen to the lyrics that speak to me. I truly want to find somewhere I belong, God bless Linkin Park. But as I begin to smile, I remember that young girl in four hundred level. That powerful young unstoppable force f a woman that could do anything, she needs to come back now.
I unbraid and untangle the rows of weaves on my head and as I do, I search for some shampoo. It’s the harsh mint one I have left, it’s not harsh for my scalp but the skin around my neck. Well it will do for now, I just have to rinse it off quickly. From my neck I mean and with all that dust in my lungs and my throat scratching and all, it has to be a warm bath.
I take the mirror to the bathroom and put it at the same height as my face and then let the shower run. The ice cold water jolts me out of my placid state and I hear Staind's ‘So far away', lyrics.
I smile and start to wash my thick rich African mane. I like how it stands attention and retains the shape of the unlocked braids. Yes, I will continue to struggle until I am finally made. Made it I mean to that place that I feel complete, even though I experience failures and setbacks.
I scrub at my scalp and not my hair, we all hear about how we should treat our hair with tender love and care. The undergrowth is almost four inches long and I have no intention of stretching or relaxing the hair. At least not until Christmas or the New Year at least.

 After along bath, I dress to impress in my long chiffon skirt and smart black top. It’s time to met with a consultant and specialist.
I cancel all meetings and head straight to Ikoyi, I think I was a teenager the last time I saw my consultant and childhood friend.
  The waiting room is cosy and I love the tiny mini plant in front of me. Her office is impressive and as I wait for her in the waiting room, Andra Day’s “Rise up” plays on my phone and I shut my eyes and listen to the words that sounds like an uplifting prayer to my soul. As it comes to an end, the consultant shows up and I rise up, stop the music and we hug.
In her office I listened to her journey, which sounds like mine. The need to find a system and structure pushed her to build a team that helps businesses build systems and structures. She looked at my work history and made some observations and I sit back and think.
Wow, I have been all over the place and need to be known for what my brand represents. It’s time to merge it all and put it all into a fine package. And we set goals to attract advisory board members and members and also set a six months goal to attract an a project that would invite investors. I was too impressed, it is refreshing to have outside eyes dissect my brand and identify my strengths and weaknesses. And you won’t believe her fees, nothing. After six months of feedback and two meetings, then she will raise funds to take my business up to be a phenomenal brand with all the values I promise, clear and easily identified by clients and customers. Her fees was a percentage we both agreed on and just like that, my faith was renewed.
 I hug her again and strut happily out of her office, thank God I made this move. I can see it now, the growth I’ve envisioned for myself and my business. And she also structured into the plan, given back to society. I was a teenager again and I step into my car smiling and loving that my natural hair, which I missed when in braids and weaves was on top of my head. My crown was wrapped and dark and lovely, it sprang up as if my head was expanding positively.
  My phone rings and I smile at the name that pops up.
‘Ade are you alright? You refused to pick my call and…’
‘Ajoke I am fine, I am on my way to your office'
‘Good, let’s do lunch. I already invited Nnoye and was planning an intervention…’
‘No need, I have gist for all of you. We need to be positive, the soluty is here'

  I felt like screaming and somersaulting and just floating in the sea. Maybe we need to go to the beach tomorrow, or next. I know now that once you can see where you are going, the solar system is just the beginning.





**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 76**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 76, COPYRIGHT 2018*

**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede