Friday, July 3, 2015

The Birth of A Dream

I knew from an early age that I wanted to become a doctor. A surgeon. This was my dream. My calling. The idea of cutting up people’s bodies, smiling at their internal organs and maybe stealing one or two thrilled me. So much that I performed my first surgical procedure at 11 years. Not on a human being, of course. It was a damn housefly! Now, if you were brought up in the village, you know that houseflies were a huge part of the family. This especially if the kitchen (not part of the main house but an outside kitchen) was adjoined to the goat shed. I don’t know the connection but well, our kitchen was adjoined to the barn and to me this was the reason for the many houseflies. 

Before I carried out my malicious procedure I asked my mum if killing a housefly was a sin; I was a staunch Sunday-school member. She said it wasn’t. Moreover, houseflies have a lifespan of seven days; we can assume that their seventh day has come. Plus their breeding rate is super high and nobody will miss them! She added. Of course she didn’t know my reason for asking. She assumed I was on a mission to help eradicate these unwanted family members. With this piece of information, I concluded that these annoying creatures were the best specimen for my procedure just in case Dr. Naomi failed the mission. As expected, the fly died. And just like mum had said, I concluded it was its seventh day and I was just a means used to send it to its creator. I was frustrated though, and swore to try the same procedure once I became a qualified surgeon.

Anyway,that housefly stuff was just to show you how dedicated I was to my dream. 

This dream was still with me in high school. By the way, I wasn’t into this dream because of the fat pay associated with it. No. I actually had no idea how much doctors earned. I just knew that I wanted to become a doctor. Period. In high school I worked pretty hard on the sciences and the results were amazing. Mathematics too. I picked all the sciences in form 2 third term. Nothing was going to stop me. 

One day a teacher asked me one of the easiest questions then. What do you want to become in future? She asked. A doctor! I replied. Why a doctor, Naomi? She further probed. Silence.

There and then I realized I didn’t have an honorable answer to the question. 

Truth is I had an answer; just not the answer you would want the world to know. It was shameful; I wanted to become a doctor to get me a handsome husband. Yep. A husband! You see, growing up I watched a lot of soap operas on our black and white Greatwall TV set. These soaps had formed a fantasy and disguised it into this big dream. And who better to carry this dream than a 10yr old girl called Naomi! A soapy story had been created by my mind and made to look like a dream. 

This dream went something like this; complete my primary and secondary education; pass with flying colors; join University and take a degree in Medicine. 7 years later become a surgeon and work in whichever hospital. It didn’t matter which. I just needed a platform to carry out my mission of getting a husband. A few days into work (hopefully immediately) I would get an emergency case requiring me to carry out a surgical procedure on a very… very… very handsome man. He would require an emergency blood transfusion and as fate would have it I would be the only match in the entire hospital. The hospital blood bank would be empty. He would get my blood; my blood his blood. And this would mark the beginning of our connection. Hehe… After a successful operation he would spend a few days in the hospital in which I would take great care of him. During these few days we would get to know each other. On the day of his discharge he would ask me out on a date. To my surprise, he would turn out to be this famous billionaire I did not know about! How lucky! This would be the first of many dates that would eventually lead to marriage; a happily ever after. End of dream! 

Did I ever resume work? No idea. Did I later catch a housefly as sworn and operated on it successfully? No idea either. 

That night in my school-given bed, I realized that becoming a doctor was not a dream but a fantasy. My becoming a doctor was not a calling but a way to get me a handsome man. 

So, what’s my dream? What do I want to become in future? This would actually make for a beautiful soap opera, huh. I thought to myself. The next day I wrote the story down and reading it I was pleased with myself. ‘The Perfect Match’ was the title. I afterwards wrote more stories some of which I circulated in class for my classmates to read. The feedback I got was amazing. And the more I wrote, the more I felt inspired and good about myself! Finally I knew what I wanted to be when I ‘grew up’. A creative writer! A scriptwriter! A writer! I had finally realized my dream. My dream was born; a dream that I’m living today.
Looking back today, I know that had I stuck with my fantasy-dream, I would have made a very miserable doctor. Or maybe, just maybe, I would have retired after my marriage to handsome-patient and started a career in writing. 

PS: I just finished writing my first (real) script for a short film and currently working on my second script for a TV series.
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