Akinsola Ayomide
I must begin by stating, for the record and for the benefit of posterity, that I do not like Valentine’s Day.And yet, here I am, looking at them at Love garden from my room.
They come in pairs. Girls in dresses redder than their partners account. Boys holding gifts and money bouquets, we all know you borrowed money for this but fine, it is for love, Una..
On Valentine’s Day, UI stops being a university and becomes something else entirely. A show of affection and mild suffering.I shake my head.This is nonsense, I tell myself.
Love is a scam. Saint Valentine is the hushpuppi. A commercial conspiracy designed to empty the pockets of students who already survive on garri and hope. Yesterday, these same people woke up late to avoid breakfast. Today, they are gifting months worth of savings.It is suspicious.
Kuti boys are kicking their feets in the air on the phone. Girls pretend not to expect anything while expecting everything. In a room in Awo, someone is crying. Somewhere else, someone is proposing with a ring that is probably not their size.I say to myself, I am more than this.But then I notice small things.
A girl feeding her boyfriend cake with the concentration of a nurse giving medication. A boy holding a gift bag like it contains his entire heart. A girl receiving a delivery while her entire hostel howls from the window.Two people sitting on the grass, doing absolutely nothing, just laughing as if laughter is a subject they are both studying.
And suddenly, the whole thing becomes difficult to hate properly, let me hate in peace.
Because there is something touching about it. Something reckless and hopeful. These students, who complain about fuel price, school fees, and strikes, are still brave enough to love. To spend their last cash on teddy bears. To write notes that say too much. To risk embarrassment for the sake of a feeling that may or may not survive the semester. It is foolish. It is beautiful. I clear my throat and look away quickly.
Of course, I still maintain that Valentine’s Day is overrated. The roses will dry. The chocolates will finish. The relationships will fall like the national grid.
But for today, just today, UI feels softer.Even the trees at Love Garden look like they are listening. Even the sun seems to be minding its business, not too hot, not too harsh, as if it, too, has decided to respect the lovers.I shake my head again.Nonsense.
Still, as I walk past a couple arguing gently over who loves the other more, I find myself smiling, just a little.I will never admit it out loud.But there is something admirable about this annual madness. In a campus full of deadlines, disappointments, and long queues, people still find the courage to say, “I choose you.”
And perhaps that is the most ridiculous and admirable thing of all.
