HELP, I HAVE FALSE EYELASHES!

My friend, Cindy, walked into my office. She looked very nice and well ‘put together’. As we discussed, I noticed she was staring at me.

“What is it, Cindy?” I enquired, checking to see if I left a mark on my white shirt after a heavy meal of rice and chicken stew in the office cafeteria.

“Ayo, do you know you have beautiful eyes? They are the most striking features of your face.”

I blushed at the unexpected compliment.

“Thank you.”

‘You must do something about it.”

“I thought you said they were beautiful?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yes, I did. I am still looking at them. I think you ought to enhance them. Bring them out. Make them look more attractive.” She said, fluttering her eyelashes.

I paused before answering. “Cindy, you know I don’t even use eye shadow. I am too careless about that. I will just apply it upside down. Take a look at my nails, you will see I never do manicure or even pedicure. If I try it, they will chip off the following day.” I shook my head with such finality that you would think it was a closed subject. Gladly, she didn’t say anything again about it, though I still caught her stealing glances at my eyes; the sudden objects of attraction.

The following day, she peeped into my cubicle at the close of work:

“Let’s go and do some shopping, I’m feeling depressed.”

Personally, I didn’t need any reason to shop. I shop whether I’m happy or sad; I simply enjoy acquiring some ‘worldly possessions.’ My mama always says that the worldly possessions are simply for this world, we ain’t taking them to heaven, so we can gladly use them up here. So, at 5.30 p.m. on that eventful evening, I gladly followed my BFF (‘Best Friend Forever’ an acronym used by my younger friends), Cindy, to a popular shopping plaza in Central Area, Abuja. As we passed by a Beauty Spa, she looked at me and said, “Remember what we discussed yesterday?”

“Which one?”  I asked, puzzled. “We talked about a lot of things – upfront salary, morning meetings, targets…..”

“No, not about work. You always talk about work. The discussion was about you.”

“What about me?”

“Your lashes.”

Oh. I touched my eyelashes instinctively. I hoped they were not gone. 

“This is the place. There is a young man, Andrew. Most Abuja society ladies patronise him. He is really good. He will pamper your eyes.”

I decided to follow her inside. We met one handsome young man who greeted my friend as though she was a long lost aunt. She introduced me and my ordeal began.

“How would you like it – long, short or medium?”

Cindy answered on my behalf, “Medium would do for a start.”

He brought out some false eyelashes of different shades hoisted on a stand. I noticed a tube labelled ‘eyelash adhesive’ on the table.

“There are two options.” He informed me, looking very serious. “One will last for two weeks; it is called temporary lashes and cost N7, 500.00. It will take only thirty minutes.  The other is more permanent and much more expensive and you would need at least two hours. It is already 6 p.m, we close by 7 p.m but I can wait to complete it.”

I took the cheaper and less time-consuming option and we began the ‘operation.’ Cindy conveniently sneaked out to continue her shopping adventure and hopefully, her imaginary ‘depression’ would have evaporated.

 He brought out instruments of various sorts and began prodding my eyes.

‘Ouch!’ I screamed.

“Did it hurt you?”He inquired sympathetically.

“Yes.”

“That’s because you are blinking.” He explained. “Can you do without blinking for a while?”

I honestly couldn’t imagine not blinking if someone were pulling at your eyelid. I asked him if it were naturally possible to do so and he informed me that lots of women could achieve this feat. It was then my ‘surgeon’ informed me that I blink too much. I didn’t know that, so I subconsciously stored it amongst the lists of things I didn’t know how to do well. The list was certainly getting longer – dancing (I dance off tune); singing (I sing off-key); walking (my mama says ladies walk slowly with precise steps, I forget all the time especially in my lovely platform shoes!) and now blinking (I blink…….).

We waited a while for the eyelash adhesive to be completely dry. For finishing touches, Andrew curled the new contraption with an eyelash curler.

After about twenty minutes of discomfort and ten strands of artificial lashes (each strand contains three lashes), I emerged a more beautiful and ‘sophisticated’ Abuja babe. Cindy was right, my eyes were more pronounced. I understood why actresses and models look more ravishing. It is all about the eyes, the window of the soul. Pity I wasn’t much younger, I could have gone to audition for all the new beauty pageants and there are certainly many of them – Sisi Oge, Miss Insurance, Miss Ikemba, Miss Carnival, Miss Soap and possibly, Miss Eye Lashes.

“Do you like it?” Andrew asked, shaking me out of my mini reverie.

You bet! “Yes, I look great,” I answered, still staring at the transformation.

The door opened, and Cindy walked in. Perfect timing!

‘You look good, Ayo.”

“Yes, I know,”I responded, coyly, fluttering my newest acquisition – thick long lashes, fully paid for.

“How do you feel?” She inquired further.

“I like it,” I replied.

Cindy turned to Andrew, “Would you tweak her eyebrow? They look plucked.”

Not again, I thought. I have had enough!

Andrew looked at my face. “I think she needs threading.” They didn’t consult me as they discussed.

“I’m good.” I said breaking into their ‘serious’ conversation. “Besides I don’t have any money left.’ I concluded, grabbing my wallet to go.

“I will pay.”Cindy insisted.

‘How much is it?” I was informed it was only N1,000.00.

I didn’t want to owe my friend any money because I know I will have to ‘cough’ out the funds on a more expensive outing. I looked at the mirror and really liked what I saw. Perhaps, a little threading or whatever that meant, would enhance an already lovely look.

“Ok, I would do it. Cindy, don’t worry. I have the cash.” She looked glad.

The term ‘threading’ actually denotes ‘threading’. Andrew brought out a long thread and began pulling at my eyebrow. I felt little pain as he began.

“Don’t worry, it will be a bit painful at first and thereafter when you get used to it on subsequent visits, you won’t even notice.”

“How long will it last?” I enquired at the mention of subsequent visits.

“It depends on the rate of growth of the individual’s eyebrows but a minimum of two weeks.”

“Ouch!”I screamed yet again as he began working on my left eyebrow. The skin at that side had gone red. I felt like crying but remembered the lovely face I saw in the mirror. I bore my pain.

Forty minutes later and N9,500.00 poorer (oh yes, including the tip for a job well done), I exited the shopping plaza in Central Abuja. Cindy walked proudly behind me, quite pleased with herself. It was time to go home.

“You look different.” My husband, Bryon said, staring at my face as I stepped into the house.

“Oh, you noticed.”I was glad.

“What have you done this time, Ayo?”

I lifted up my face. At 6’4’ inches to my 5’5’frame, Bryon could certainly see clearly.

“Do you like it?” I asked, batting the long, luxurious eyelashes at him.

“I have to know what you did before I decide,” Bryon asked, suspiciously.

“I did my eyes, can’t you see?”

He looked closely. “Well, it’s nice but a little artificial.”

“Of course, they are artificial.  Just a little enhancement.” I hugged a puzzled Bryon, walked off and went into the bedroom. My cell phone rang; it was Cindy.

“How do you feel, girl?”

“I’m good. I just want to take a bath.”

“Don’t wash around the eye area for 24 hours, remember he used glue.”

‘How do I do that?”

“Just wash around your face, but not near the eyes!”

I took my bath, carefully avoiding my face. I decided just to cleanse my face with cotton wool and a face cleanser. As I lay down to rest, I felt a throbbing headache. It was unusual,  as I rarely have headaches. I dared not inform Bryon. I sneaked out to get Bryon’s aspirin which he takes every day after reading a recent newspaper article that it helps men prevent all manners of diseases. I slept fitfully.

I woke up the following morning feeling very strange. My eyelids felt heavy and uncomfortable. I spoke to my beauty consultant, Cindy, who informed me that I would get used to it. I bore my discomfort stoically. I still liked the way I looked. I loved my eyes.

Day two, I still felt the discomfort but by the third day, I got used to it. I only noticed my eyes were slightly red. Hubby merely ignored me when I asked him to check my eyes for redness. He simply didn’t want to get involved. I purchased a bottle of original Visine eye drops from my regular reliable Jessi- Jen Pharmacy in Wuse 2 and that took care of the problem.

Day four, five and six, I began to enjoy my new looks, fully. I had joined the league of Abuja big girls – false lashes, artificial hair extensions, designer………

Precisely a week later, I woke up with my eyes really swollen. The upper eyelids looked like I had been engaged in some battle the previous day. I was scared. I couldn’t go to work. I called to book an appointment at an eye clinic. Luckily, my ophthalmologist said I could come over immediately.

Donning a dark pair of sunshades, I arrived at the clinic. The doctor examined me and promptly put me on antibiotics.

“What’s wrong with me, Doc?” I asked miserably.

“You have an eye infection.”

“Eye infection?”

‘Yes.”

I understood. I signed a cheque of N15, 000 to treat the eye infection for seven days. A rough mental calculation showed that I had spent over N25, 000 on this adventure (lash extension, threading, tips, Visine eye drops, antibiotics, pains, discomfort and other expenses that cannot be quantified monetarily). That put paid to my adventures with beauty enhancement, especially concerning my eyes. Some things are certainly not for some people. I would rather remain the way I have always been. Of course, Bryon said nothing. I’m sure he was glad to have his wife back without any ‘enhancement’.

A few months later, another close friend of mine was staring at my eyes.

“Ayo, you have beautiful eyes.”

I kept quiet.

“I think you can enhance them. I know a place where they sell contact lenses in various colours…..”

I simply ignored her, turning my face away. 

(First published Saturday Guardian - March 13, 2010)