You probably shouldn’t be reading this. Be that as it may, you can.
This is the first part of my autobiography that will be published when I become ruler & lady sovereign of the macroscopic world. I’ll liaise with Hank Pym for the microscopic part.
We’ll start at when I was 10 years old with no friends, thick grandma-looking glasses and my classmates making fun of me for being dark af. A semi good villian backstory but I didn’t need any of these. I could do bad all by myself.
I don’t like my secondary school a lot but they had one reedeming quality, they gave me all the books I could ever want. I distinctly remember the first time I stepped into the library and realized all these novels were for the taking. I spent every break period in JS1 in the library and I’m not even joking. New students weren’t allowed to borrow books out of the library till after a year but the librarian broke the rule for me. There was a time my parents seized a novel from me, returned it to the library and warned them to never let me borrow books again. Of course the librarian didn’t listen to them. When I divide the whole world into factions, I’m going to make her and her family special wardens.
Let’s get into smut.
Ruth (may she rest in peace) used to supply me with her grandma’s mills & boon romance novels. I must have read over a hundred of those. I was an addict and she was my willing supplier. This was when I started havng a warped view of love and romance like every self respecting teenage girl.
Things got heated when another classmate started giving me her mom’s harlequin novels. I got caught with one particularly nasty one but they could hardly punish me. You see, the classmate’s mom was also a teacher at my school and a pastor’s wife. She hushed it all up for me in true christian fashion. Amen.
I learnt fast though, I started tearing away the covers. You can wince at the book mutilation, but when you have a handsome greek CEO performing oral sex on his hot secretary on the cover of a book I was reading in a missionary school and in a religious home, you were asking for it to be torn.
50 Shades of Grey changed my life. I had never read anything like it. My 12 year old mind was blown. Maybe because I stole the book from my agriculture teacher’s house.
Where were my parents in all of these? One day, my dad attempted to indulge in my love for novels and bought 6 books of my reading level for me. I finished all 6 the same day and went to ask him for more. He never bought another novel for me again. Over the years, he decided they were the reason I wasn’t the best in my level (mind you, I was the second best), hence the seizing part. That all changed when I won a state writing competition though, he suddenly realized how important the arts were in the life of his children.
My most vivid memory of the writing competition was the second stage when we were asked to write a piece each on prose, poetry and drama (by the way, I am terrible at drama). During the poetry writing, I can’t remeber exactly what I wrote but it had to do with wishes and it was funny af. I finished in half the time and started looking around at what others around me were writing. The person on my left was writing on HIV, on my right was Nigeria. I was deceased. I had come to a competition to write jokes when others were writing on the frighful state of the country. I was sure I was going home. Somehow someway, I was the first person in line for the 3rd round.
My friends say I started on the path to crazy preparing for the 3rd round (I disagree). You see I had to act out a soliloquy of Wole Soyinka’s “The trials of Brother Jero” and dear reader, brother Jero was not exactly the epitome of someone in their right mind.
Goodnight, the next part involves a boko haram fantasy, piracy and a public flogging. I can’t get into all of it in this article. Maybe by the next one of its kind, I’ll have minions to write for me as supreme leader.
