It is with a heavy heart that I must announce this day of the Sabbath that approaches us…is my birthday. Another trip around the sun has been marked for me, just as the seasons change. It is well, and do not dare to ask how old I am to be; a lady never tells. I am as young as a fledgling about to take its first flight, inexperience not deterring its need for independence.

And I will remain that age until the end of my days. I have no quarrel with my advancement in age, however I am displeased at the unwarranted need for merriment to honour said advancement, especially as it is being conducted without my permission or opinion.

Festivities are pleasing but when the celebrant’s feelings, time or opinion on the matter are not considered, it would be fair to assume one would not find themselves in a celebratory mood. Alas, I must indulge emotionally stunted but well-meaning parents of the Nigerian persuasion, who simply wish to honour their youngest daughter in the way they know how, their understanding limited by tradition.

Olawale: May I inquire as to why you are disinclined to partake in a celebratory gathering?

Me: Unfortunately, this gathering comes at a time when I have no inclination for celebrations. School examinations have stolen my attention like a thief at night, work expectations have me gripped me tighter than an iron embrace. I have no time for trivialities!

Eyitayo: Would you not prefer a celebration in your honour by those you hold close to your heart?

Me: Frankly, my dear, I would prefer the chime of a notification on my cellular device, a clear indication of a financial upgrade. Perhaps even a tangible representation of this as well.

Ewa: But what of past times as a child? Birthday cakes, presents and the like.

Me: I am no longer easily moved by confectionary delights or childhood ditties. I aspire to achieve greater things.

The others try to sway me with their opinions but I interject.

My contemporaries, this may be difficult to hear, but do understand, it is even harder to say. I do not wish to celebrate because I do believe there is nothing worth celebrating. To deal with a broken heart is arduous but feasible, but to recover from the heartbreak of life is an ongoing affair. It is fraught with pain, regret, and loss. It is a daily battle with victories and defeats, but at this moment, I do not have it in me to fight any battle, and I would rather reserve my strength for the mundanities of life than squander it for meaningless festivities, even if it is in my honour. Let me harbour my discontent in peace, let me disregard the annual commemoration of my existence. What significance does a single year hold in the grand tapestry of time? If you must, raise your glasses, sing your songs, but let the Sabbath unfold, and let my sorrows, sorrows, and prayers weave their silent tapestry.