By Clifford Ejenavi
At 41, Rita (not her real name) sits quietly in her modest one-room and parlour apartment, her eyes reflecting years of choices she wishes she could undo. Her voice trembles as she recounts her past, a story of missed opportunities, misplaced priorities and the harsh reality of loneliness that crept in when she least expected it.
“I thought I had all the time in the world,” she begins softly. “In my twenties, marriage and children were the last things on my mind. I wanted to live life to the fullest, to travel, to enjoy myself, to chase money and freedom. Now, I realised time was moving faster than I thought.”
Rita grew up in a strict but loving family in Benin City, Edo State. As the first daughter, her parents invested heavily in her education, proud of her brilliance and ambition. After graduating from university, she secured a good job in a bank and became financially independent at a young age. That independence, she admits, gave her a sense of power and pride that made her turn down several suitors.
“Many good men came my way,” she recalls. “But I always found one reason or another to say no. Either he wasn’t rich enough, not good-looking enough, or not ambitious enough. I wanted a ‘perfect’ man, someone who matched the picture I had built in my head.”
Her social life revolved around parties, travels, and expensive outings with friends. She lived in the fast lane, enjoying every moment of her youth without thinking much about the future. By her mid-thirties, most of her friends had married and started families. But Rita was still single, confident that her own time would come soon.
Then, slowly, the calls stopped. Invitations to weddings and baby showers became fewer. Conversations with old friends now revolved around school runs, family responsibilities, and husband dramas, topics she could no longer relate to. That was when loneliness began to set in.
“At 38, I looked around and realized I had no one. The men I once rejected were all married with kids. The ones I met later only wanted fun, not commitment. That’s when reality hit me, I had wasted my youthful age chasing the wrong things.”
Rita says she has since turned to faith and self-reflection. She has stopped blaming herself entirely, but the pain of what could have been still lingers. “It’s not that I don’t believe in love anymore,” she says with a faint smile. “I just wish I had been wiser earlier. If I could speak to young women today, I would tell them: don’t let pride or temporary excitement make you miss your destiny.”
Now, her life revolves around her small business and community work. She finds joy in mentoring younger women, urging them to value time, relationships, and purpose. Her message is clear, youth is fleeting and choices have lasting consequences.
“If you have a good man who loves you, don’t wait for perfection,” she advises. “Perfection doesn’t exist. Build together. Time waits for no one.”
Rita’s story is a sober reminder that the decisions we make in our youth echo into our future. While her journey has been marked by regrets, she remains hopeful. “I still believe God can turn things around,” she concludes. “Even if I never marry or have children, I want to live the rest of my life with meaning.”
Her words hang in the air, a painful yet powerful lesson to the younger generation: value your time, guard your choices and never take love for granted.
