Shopping Fatigue
No, I’m not tired of shopping because I have endless funds. I am tired of mapping where to buy what.
I’m well aware that my shopping struggles are peculiar and it would be quite foolish to act as if everyone is like me. I’m a creature of habit. I even habitually make time for spontaneity. Judging me? Gaskiya I can’t even be bothered. It makes sense in my colourful brain and that’s all that matters.
Perspective: I have been shopping from the same man, Baban Fati, in Wunti market since 2008 when I started going to the market by myself. He was our first source of Ahmad tea after Ummi brought the gospel from Zaria. Maybe I learnt this one from my mom. As soon as I was old enough to start shopping in Mudalawan market (whatever old enough means, because in real life, my mom doesn’t really think you’ll ever get it as she will - a trait I share), I only went to the people she knew.
She’s been shopping with Amarya for God knows how long. The Igbo woman whose children are as old as me and our last born has been carrying the nickname of a brand new bride since she first got her foodstuff stall over 20 years ago.
I love consistency. This is hard to maintain when you travel a lot like I do. I have so many mental maps of shopping spots in different cities and it makes me weary when I remember that I have to start from scratch again whenever I move. Not to mention the sweet fact that most of the products that I love, and I’m not allergic to are not always on mainstream shelves. So yeah, I really need a plug.
It’s the body cream, the deodorant, the sanitary pad, hair products, toothpaste, toothbrush, everything really. Where I get my oat bars and other snacks, journals, Christian literature, fruits and vegetables etc. I’m a creature of habit. It’s not enough to get Colgate for instance — is it the gel paste with cooling crystals or the weird alien green herbal mixture even though it also has cooling crystals?
About three years ago, I’d have had a smidge of excitement at the thought of finding new spots in a new place but it is like I’m becoming elderly oh. Because now I’m just unenthused. My brain is beginning to sense the stress associated with going to new places and finding disappointment or realising that they’re a one-hit-wonder.
When I’m in Abuja, I have to keep to my aunty’s customers in Karu market and recall all the stalls of my cousin’s favourite vendors in Nyanya market. When I am in Yola, I must remember where my cousins and their mom shop in Jimeta modern market, never forget the layout of the new market even though I learnt those routes in the old market. I must remember how to get to Jambutu from Bachure and remember that the motor park may change but the shops must stay in my head. When I’m in Jos, I know that Famous cosmetics around Gada Biyu will have almost all I need for skin and haircare but if they don’t, Flourish supermarket, King’s mart or Onigbinde will have them alongside my favourite snacks.
I know my okpa woman at the Mama Terminus roundabout, very close to the plaza that houses Razor sharp and Jummy’s abacha lady near the shops that sell tailoring materials. I know the places to order my small chops and get full satisfaction and excellent customer service — like Nays Pastries. I am picky about customer service. When I’m in Accra, I know where the school chef sources his food items from rice to plantain in Medina market. I know where Miss Susan (God rest her soul) got everything, from salmon to sea salt. I know exactly what Spar and Shoprite at Accra Mall have to offer. I know the corners where the Nigerian shops are, where I can buy Dudu Osun and nzu.
I think I am too exasperated to be doing hit-and-miss with restaurants and vendors. With stores and shopping spots. Maybe I’m just ultimately fatigued from moving around. But I know that for a few years, I used to get anxious when I started running low on my stock because I didn’t know where I’d be by the time my supply ran out or how long it’d take to ‘find’ a new place. Now, even as I make the purchase, I’m wondering if Cherry Blossom will be here the next time I shop. I don’t like it at all.
It is exhausting. I am tired of shopping.
“Have you tried online shopping Ballie?” you might want to say. It’s me and you in this Nigeria of unreliable vendors and delivery services, right? I don’t have the bandwidth to be negotiating common sense with mad people. Maybe you should get a personal shopper. Oh, I wish I could. I wish I had found a human I can trust to know me well enough to do what I want. And while mistakes are natural, it is expedient that people are corrected. Me? I will just be disgruntled in silence about such a personal service. I’m still working on it because it is not my natural inclination to register my displeasure about anything at all. I’ll just let it go as Elsa advised.
Why does this bother me so much? One of the most reassuring things about God for me has always been His consistency. Whether I am on Kurikyo Road in Lafia or the Adome Bridge Akosombo in the Volta, God doesn’t change. I do. I have — in many embarrassing and shameful ways, as well as in positive and inspiring manners. I have gotten so used to this stability and consistency that sometimes I unknowingly demand it of mortal men and their structures. I then encounter the insistent inconsistency of men and begin to project it on the One Being who has never wavered. It is a vicious cycle.
Now as I pull up my big girl pants and try to shop again — Knowing that the Spar at Tejuosho will thoroughly disappoint me but I might bet on the one with many teas at Illupeju, I am teaching my heart to carefully not project the failings of frail men on the Perfect Immortal God. I can trust Him in every city and on any street. If He, the Good Shepherd says I should be ‘here’ or ‘there’ as He did with Elijah, then I must ensure I truly trust His heart. He can never mislead me. Google Maps can. People’s recommendations and business pages on the internet can. But God’s leading in my life is sufficient enough to guide me to a flock of saints who worship Him in spirit and in truth as much as it is to lead me to where I can get zogale at Maryland. And perhaps my tiredness, as legitimate as it is, is a pointer that I have been trusting in my strength once again.
Perhaps shopping fatigues will lead me to the truth that God’s strength is made manifest when I am weak. Maybe it is not all that bad to be tired of shopping after all.
Love, Ballie 💖
If you’ve had to deal with the heartbreak of inconsistency or the numbing anxiety of uncertainty, you’re not alone. And even if it manifests as ‘trivially’ as waterworks about shopping or a deep sadness about being unable to pay the next bill, I want you to know that its very valid. But more than that, there’s hope. One in whom there is no shadow of turning.
If you enjoyed reading this, please make this post more visible to those who may like it or learn from it by clapping as many times as you can (50x). Please don’t forget to share with others too. Guess what? You can also subscribe to get email deliveries. Yes, you’ll call exclusive dibs on everything I write before I share the links with the rest of the world. ✨
