For those who know me well, January is not my month. January is the time that heavy clouds gather over me and it rains as if the world is coming to an end. January is the time I feel breathless, listless and resigned. January brings back memories that I fight hard to hold on to, yet have to push away for fear of losing myself in them. January is when I find myself under water, gasping for breath and trying to resurface for air, but something keeps holding my head down. I do not fear January because of all the bills that are waiting patiently to be paid, while you forgot that the world will not end in December. It does not bother me that it is meant to be a time to decide on what to take forward and what to leave behind. I am not worried about all the things I did not want to contend with in November and December so I conveniently moved them to the new year. January and I stopped being friends twenty-two years ago when my father ……………………….died.

I am currently at a Women Writers’ Retreat which will last for ten days. When I got the invitation last year, I looked at the dates and thought it was too soon in the year for such a commitment. I thought about all the energy and time I needed to invest in the Christmas period – the hosting of family, friends and community, ceremonies, and travel across the country. By the end of it all, I finish the holiday season feeling exhausted and drained. I however decided that it probably was the best time for me, a time to focus on creating something new.  My husband and I went away for a few days after Christmas and that was really nice. I knew it was his own way of keeping me from my usual ‘January spiral’. After our trip, it was time for a family wedding and then I was free to leave for the retreat.

I am happy I said yes to coming.  The venue is a picturesque rural facility in an African country. There are 18 of us here, African women from around the world who need space to think and write in order to finish a piece of work or start something new. I am here to do both – to finalise a book and begin another one. 

We had a session to talk about what inspires us, and what memories we draw lessons from. As I listened to stories of how fathers, mothers, grandparents, spouses and children had made it possible for the storytellers gathered to thrive, my heart went through a process of breaking and rebuilding. This is January, my default month for sadness. Yet, right now, my heavy clouds are lifting.  I am sad, but hopeful. I am in pain, but I can smile. My spirits are still low, but I am immensely grateful. In the solitude of the long walks we are encouraged to take in this beautiful, natural setting, in the admiration of the wild animals who keep their distance as we keep ours, with the sounds of the noisy birds who chatter loudly and ceaselessly, in the company of the sisters I share stories with, in the laughter we all find together, I know that even though my heart will hurt forever, there will always be healing, love and joy.

As I take a break from writing, I try to catch up on what has been happening in the world. War, devastation, fires, death, hunger, they always take ownership of headlines, after all, if it bleeds, it leads. There are other headlines that are heartwarming though. The report from CNN, ‘How Nigeria’s biggest city became the world’s hottest winter party sensation’ was a pleasant surprise. We know that Detty December has been bringing young Nigerians in the Diaspora home for the Christmas season for a while now. Older Nigerians in the Diaspora also come home in large numbers because a lot of family events are fixed for the December/January period. Armed with dollars, pounds and Euros to change, they boost the local economy significantly while they spend money on food, drink, clubs, concerts, travel, gifts for their families and the odd mischief. There is also an endless list of ceremonies to attend – weddings, funerals, birthdays, end of year parties, community festivals. I saw some figures online that tried to quantify what was spent on all the above during this Detty December period and it was a lot of billions. It is not all the time that the international media sees something good to report about Nigeria or Africa, but hey, this is January, the month of possibilities and new things.

It is quiet here. There are no vehicles to be heard. There is no television to distract, just the sound of noisy birds and the hum of the air-conditioning. Before I set my phone aside to resume my work, I go through the latest posts to read about sane people going insane and insane people making others question their own sanity. I smile at some and laugh out loud at others. Then it is time to carry on.

As the month goes by, I know I will feel better. This place has already done wonders for me. A new year is meant to bring hope for a fresh start and blessings waiting to be discovered. Even though this year started off as many others for me, I am thankful to God for this opportunity to reflect, rest and write. May this new year bring us all love, warmth, good fortune, robust health and divine blessings, wherever we are and whatever we do. May we be able to find the help we need and give the support expected of us. May our children bring us joy, and may the souls of our departed loved ones continue to rest in peace. I wish you and your families a blessed new year.

Bisi Adeleye-Fayemi is a Gender Specialist, Leadership Coach, Policy Advocate and Writer. She is the Founder of Abovewhispers.com, an online community for women. She can be reached at BAF@abovewhispers.com