Let down your hair, Rapunzel
Lekan
The sun. The sun is the first thing that awakens me, before the piercing noise of the burly facilitator's whistle almost deafens me, sending me straight to the bathroom where I splash my face with water that's almost colder than ice.
"What the..." I bite my tongue and cuss even more. Nothing could have prepared me for the extreme weather in Obudu. I didn't even bring enough warm clothing. I might have to speak to the burly man about this, lest I freeze to death before I get the chance to heal.
The smell of freshly fried puff-puff harasses my nose. My villa is annoyingly close to the kitchen. If I had a choice, I would have picked one of the mountain villas, but I guess the yadayada about letting fate pick for you got to me. Phew.
I turn on the water heater, which surprisingly works. I've read reviews about this place before checking in and eighty percent of them were bad, but since I arrived, I've had a good experience. I guess they upgraded, and I in fact don't mind if that's only for this retreat, as long as we're made comfortable.
Soon the shower starts steaming. Taking that as my clue to step into the water, I slip into my Dunlop and get under the stream, which instantly warms me up from the inside. I wash the toothpaste trail that lines my chest from when I was brushing my teeth, squirt some body wash onto my loafer, and start working the lather into my skin. As I reach my armpit, I realize the hair in there is overgrown. I barely had time for myself these past few weeks, as I've been busy with the acquisition of Ecclesiastical.
I catch a faint reflection of myself in the mirror. My beard is a little overgrown, giving me that caveman effect. I'll have to work on that when I'm back from the morning session. I rinse the lather off my skin and stay in the shower a little longer, enjoying the warmth, but the burly facilitator's whistle jolts me out of my head. I step out of the shower, grab my towel, and dry myself off on the fuzzy floor mat.
I can see the mountain from here. It literally surrounds us. It's foggy at the top, and that's where we're meant to converge this morning.
I pick out my heaviest clothing: a stylish khaki jacket with heavy leather lining on the sleeves. I throw it on and pair it with brown pants that match the leather on my jacket's sleeves. For footwear, I step into the super comfy Crocs Wande gifted me during my last birthday. They're surprisingly durable and match almost anything. I can't wear expensive leather to that foggy mountain. I bet the grass will be wet from the morning dew. I can't take the chance.
I join the rest of the campers outside the villa and we make our way to the summit. Some are singing a song I do not know, filled with joy, while others talk about the camper they got paired with last night at the bonfire. That draws my thoughts to my partner, that rude girl who doesn't know how to talk. Everyone seems to know her from pop culture or something. I'm not exactly social. I love to mind my business. Like I said earlier, I'm a nerd. I never dispute that. Self-awareness is key to growth, confidence, success, as well as a lot of other good things. She does know how to dress up, I'll give her that. Maybe that comes with the territory and the money, but she does know how to layer her clothing well.
"Lekan," Jude calls to me from within his clique.
"Morning, Jude," I nod in response.
"Who did you get paired up with last night? You never said."
"Just some random girl," I respond.
"I bet she's beautiful. Lucky girl," one of the other campers says.
"Mine is a light skinned girl, tall and curvy. I can't wait to get to know her," one of the guys says.
"Mine is dark. Thirty-four. Older woman. Phew. I don't know what to do with that yet, but let's see how it all goes," another guy adds. He looks twenty eight, thirty at the oldest but I'm thirty, and he looks a tad bit younger than I am.
We get to the summit before we know it, thanks to the chit-chat. Mingling with the ladies who got there earlier, my eyes catch a beige fur hoodie attached to a sky-blue wool cardigan that has already collected dew, making it look like it snowed earlier. The cardigan is paired with blue baggy jeans and blue Crocs. The fashionista doesn't have to turn around before I know it's Monisola, but when she does, her eyes catch mine staring and her lips and face twist in annoyance, as if to ask what I'm staring at.
Why is she so full of hate? I catch the eyes of another woman, and she's smiling all sweet at me. Why can't Monisola be that sweet? What a rude girl.
I think that just as Johnson, the burly facilitator, calls our attention from beside a flag planted ahead of us.
"Hello campers. I hope every one of you had a great night, because this day is going to be full of therapeutic activities, starting from this hike. Now, please find your partner. We don't want anyone getting lost or left behind because we are not coming back here. We're taking a different trail down to the garden where your yoga mats and yoga instructors will be waiting. I know you're worried about what you're wearing, don't worry, we don't embezzle over here. Every camper has a designated locker where they'll find their yoga attire waiting. LET THE HIKE BEGIN!" he says, and everyone starts locating their partner.
I don't have to look for mine. She already gave me the skanky eyes today. She's literally the one with the most showy outfit. I walk towards her and tap her right shoulder.
"Hello, partner."
She turns to me with a smirk.
"Did you have to touch me?" she asks rudely, before dusting the part of her shoulder that I tapped with disgust.
How did this girl master the act of being rude and annoying? She's so good at it.
"Do you want to do this or not?" I ask.
"Were we asked to hold hands? No. Lead. I'll follow," she says and waits for me to lead. I stare at her in disbelief for a second before shaking my head and moving after the campers who have found their partners and are now hiking the dewy trails. She stalks behind with her hands crossed over her chest. I can't tell whether she's cold or just being immature, but I forge on anyway.
Johnson starts singing the national anthem out loud and starts marching like a soldier. A few campers join him, letting themselves have fun. I've never been one to do stuff like that, so I keep walking. I look behind me and Moni also didn't join in. Guess we are alike in that aspect.
Thirty minutes later, lilies start appearing on each side of the trail, and Johnson announces we're close to the garden where the yoga session will begin shortly. He instructs us to make our way to our gender's locker room, freshen up, and get changed. Partners start breaking apart from each other. Some wave goodbye with affection in their eyes, but in my opinion, that can only be lust. What kind of love grows that fast?
As I get to the locker room, the guys stop me at the door.
"I'm convinced fate only pairs the influential together. How are the only two influential people on camp paired with each other? Y'all don't want to share your affluence?" one guy says.
"Leave him alone, Tope. Are you trying to be a bully now?" Jude asks.
"No. How could I bully someone that can buy me a million times and still have enough to buy me a million times more?" the guy I now know as Tope responds.
"It's a good pairing though. You two have matching energy, so much rage, so much pain. Only you two can help each other heal," Jude says with a smile and pats my back before going to his locker.
I head to the locker that has my name on it and pick out a two piece brown cotton set. I slip out of my jacket and pants, throw on the two-piece, and make my way out to the garden space.
The women are once again already at the garden, going against everything I know about women. I spot Moni in a nude short jumpsuit, perched on a sky-blue yoga mat. Blue compliments her so well, but she doesn't compliment it. She's like raging fire that can't be tamed. Sky blue is the color of peace. Word and opposite, those two.
"Hello hello, campers," a face we haven't seen addresses us from a mat positioned in front of every other mat and facing us. I figure she's the yoga instructor.
"Hello hello," the campers respond.
"My name is Lisa. I will be your yoga instructor throughout your stay here in Obudu. A few of you might recognize me from the bonfire last night."
I look at her again to see if I recognize her from the circle, but I can't seem to remember seeing her there.
"First, this is a partner yoga session. Every activity you do on this campground will be partnered. Many of you have dealt with pain from your other half that must have broken your trust, but healing is not closing off that side of you, it's learning to trust again, but also learning to give that trust to the right person. In that sense, please take your mats and find your assigned partners."
Once again, everyone rises to find their partner. Moni sits still, probably expecting me to find her instead, which I do. She's a woman after all. I throw my mat down and plop down beside her.
"I can't believe how much your presence annoys me," she says, unprovoked.
"Woman, what's the color of your problem? Because it's definitely not me." She scoffs and ignores me.
Johnson, the burly facilitator, lays his yoga mat down beside Lisa, the yoga instructor. I guess they are paired up. That makes sense.
She taps something on her phone and *I Trust You* by Jahnavi Harrison starts playing from the Bluetooth stereo close to her mat.
"So campers, do as I do. Watch closely. Breathe as you get into these poses. Force nothing. Move like the wind that surrounds you," she says as she gets into position on her mat. She reaches her hands out to Johnson. He gets into the same position and they stretch each other out till they are both equally extended. Everyone follows. Monisola hesitantly reaches for my hands, and we stretch out till we're equally balanced.
"Yes, that's it. Everyone, hold that pose for a minute. As you do so, inhale and think about the things that hurt you the most," Lisa says.
I inhale sharply and close my eyes. But I've never been able to find peace when I close my eyes. All I remember is that fateful day when Helen left me. First, she said hurtful words, but the most hurtful one "You're just like your father." It made me regret ever telling her about him. But I know I'm not a cheat who skipped work to be with other women, pretending to be a saint at home. My father broke my mother. She couldn't pick up the pieces when he was done with her.
But I never gave Helen anything but love, care, and luxury. I worked my ass off to give her everything. A Benz. Then a Range Rover. Designer wigs. Weekly salon trips. I even bought her a plot of land beside her parents' house and hired the best contractors to develop it. I relocated her mother. I invested in her name. But she wanted me to herself 24/7. The only thing I couldn't give, time, was the very thing that cost me everything.
Lisa's voice cuts into my thoughts.
"Now, exhale. Let it all go."
I exhale.
"Now open your eyes."
Some campers are crying. Their partners pacify them. I look around until my eyes land on Monisola. Her eyes are red, though no tears fall. She yanks her hands out of mine and stalks off toward the mountain villa, not waiting for the next instruction. A few other campers do the same. Instead of calling them back, Johnson picks up the megaphone.
"Breakfast will be served to your rooms today, but you all will have to use the dining area after this," he says, then turns off the megaphone.
Campers disperse. Everyone walks back to their rooms in silence.
Nothing could have prepared anyone for how charged the air was during that session. It was spiritual. Even I was shaken.
As I walk back to my room, the only thing I can think about is the pain I didn't know I had buried for years.
I thought I came here to take a break from work.
But it turns out, I came here to break open.
To face what I've been running from.
To stop hiding behind success and survival.
I don't just need healing.
I'm finally ready for it.