I had a busy morning.
I needed to complete a task that was long overdue. I discarded every distraction and worked. It was either I was done with it or done. No other option.
No food. No phone.
Late afternoon, I checked the work of my hands and saw that it was good. I fixed something to eat and quickly checked my phone. Six missed calls. A text message.
I wondered why Ponmile wouldn’t just send Whatsapp messages instead of calling incessantly. She likes voice calls. I enjoy text chats. Yeah, we’re not compatible, we like ourselves like that, thank you.
I read her text message. She asked if I had been to Instagram. What’s happening there? Whatever. I gat to eat first. I settled with my plate of spaghetti.
I had only taken three forks of spaghetti before Ponmile’s call interrupted my bliss. I thought of ignoring it till I was done eating but knowing her, she’d not stop and if I didn’t pick, she’d most likely send emissaries to my place. She’d think something had happened to me.
And she’d be right to think so because when I picked her call, she told me to check Instagram as a matter of urgency. Instablog to be precise.
I told her I was eating and would get to it afterwards. She said I needed to get to it right away. She’d call me back to talk about it.
My heart skipped. What was happening on Instablog and what did it have to do with me? Hian.
I obliged her. I went to Instablog but before I got there, I went to heaven and back. My explore was full of posts – about me! I didn’t even get to Instablog, the post I was meant to see there was already all over Instagram. My face decorated different blog posts.
At least, they did well to use very cute pictures. All can’t be lost.
So, what was it that Instagram people said I did? What crime was I charged with in the court of social media?
I pushed spaghetti aside. I lost my appetite, obviously.
I allowed my lungs to take in as much air as possible. Should panic attacks decide to visit, I’d be able to ride ’em out without suffocating, amen.
I didn’t have the faintest clue of what might be the issue. I did a mental scan to check if I had engaged in some escapade that might be news worthy but nothing came up. Abi I don run commentary for one post on social media and someone didn’t find it funny ni?
The memory of how Chimamanda was thrashed on social media for making a comment about Hillary’s Twitter bio rushed at me. That one was even small. What of when she talked about Chivalry on Trevor’s daily show? Haygod! See my life outside.
I braced myself. Na one time person dey die. What is the worst that could happen? People have survived social media heat over and again. This too shall pass.
I clicked one of the several posts about me. I chose the one with the cutest picture. The blogger must be a good person to have taken extra care to search for the best of the best, right? Maybe the person dey on my side.
What I read surprised me but didn’t give me heart attack like I had imagined. Oh, bless God, no be international scandal, na just domestic issue. My son’s aunt went on social media to rant about her nephew’s “evil, inconsiderate, vindictive” mother and as expected, it went viral.
Actually, I had been labeled all sorts since the ongoing drama between me and my son’s paternal family started but I didn’t give a hoot. I didn’t even care what they thought of me. Wey dem?
On one hand, the vehemence with which people who didn’t even know me or my story attacked me on social media didn’t settle well with my guts. I saw red while reading some comments. If I had superpowers, I’d slap some people silly, their heads would be “turninoninown”.
On the other hand, I understood the fact that they were simply reacting to a well orchestrated “single story” so I forgave them. If I read what was written about me as another person’s story, I’d probably skin the person alive too.
Let me tell my side of the story and I promise you, it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
To be cont’d…
© 2019 AyotundeElegbeleye
Jesus is LORD!