Robin my bird chirped in her cage with her usual song. Hope she’s not singing a song of escape. I dislike the morning, because the world was too ugly now, and Lagos was cold! It’s the fifth year I graduated from school and still expecting a miracle-job with a jumbo pay.
I remembered leaving countless offices disappointed. Now, another interview? What am I thinking? The knock on my door doubled my frustration. It could be Mama, I thought. Must she always bring a mug of concoction, especially on every interview mornings? Although I am used to such rituals, so I didn’t border.
“Abigail dear, you look beautiful on that dress.” She told me as I opened the door. The mug on her hand was beautifully designed. It must be a Japanese mug, I thought. Because of the Haiku written on it.
“Mama, why another mug of juice?” I asked. My eyes still on the aesthetically made mug. The message from the Haiku had freedom as its theme. I smiled, not minding Mama. After all, it’s her usual DON’T-GIVE- UP homily. As she talked, I heard her mention FREEDOM. I looked at her, she was dead serious.
Was freedom knocking? I wondered.
I stared at the mug again, who designed this? I pondered greatly. Was so fascinating! But I know I could do better than this. “Mama, please I will really love to be alone, before I go for this interview.” I told her, and she understood. She was about to leave, then, she turned: “there are some things that
conceal their strength, especially our gifts. Look inside of you Abigail; you have much to offer the world.” I looked at her and wished she never came here.
What can I give when I don’t even have a job, I thought. She knew my degree in Fine Arts, from Yabatech was good enough. But I don’t enjoy painting again. I am not Claude Monet who loved to paint as the bird sings, or Michelangelo, I just need a job! Can’t she understand?
“Mama, what I need is a job,” I reiterated.
“Yes, Abi, I am one of those that believe you have one already. Don’t wait for the world to give you anything, because it may give you less!” She said and left.
Why would she visit me with such disaster? I pondered and fought her words. Tough woman, I guess.
But she could be making some sense…. So I turned and went to open my box——– a world of Art, maybe. My paintings were still beautiful. “Your business could be the work you hate most.” I soliloquized.
As I kept looking at my paintings, freshness overwhelmed me! It was like the right medicine on the venom inside me. I was finding strength again. “Where is my brush?” I asked myself. I remembered telling my professor that I could paint the world. Robin used to be my friend in such times, so I decided
to go and whisper my new found joy to her. No! Why? How? Her cage was opened, and she was gone!
The sky was too big to say which bird there was Robin. I knew she left me a message, and, it’s that she is happy to be free! And, I could do the same, yes, I could fly freely now and pursue this freed dream from an old box!