Expressions: The Case of Pious

Expressions: The Case of Pious

The Case of Pious

Pious had always been a careful boy. Even as a kid, he had taken all the elderly advice to heart. He always looked left, and right, then left again before crossing. He never spoke to strangers, ignoring them as they called to him on the way to and from school. Even when playing “catcher” with his friends in school he never let people grab him, because of suspected germs. But he had one major flaw- nail biting. He just couldn’t stop. Even throughout his secondary school up until his university days. He just never could bring himself to use a nail-cutter; he chewed on his nail when he was scared, worried, hungry or bored. Pious had read somewhere about obsessive compulsive behavior. That must be what it is, that’s my OCD. He always used to say to himself. That all changed on the 26th of July 2014.

“Nigeria records the first case of Ebola” was the headline that jumped at Pious that morning. He had been following the news on Ebola passively for a few months. The deadly virus which had already killed 600 people was now in the Lagos, the most populous city in West Africa. This frightened pious. He spent days pouring over Wikipedia and other websites trying to understand this deadly virus. He understood that the virus originally originated in bats and that it had been contained in Congo and Sudan in the 1970s. How the hell did it they let it get here. Pious went into overdrive. He ran to the mall, bought extra hand sanitizers, gloves, Dettol antiseptic, soap and cream. The fear of the disease cured him of his OCD- he stopped chewing on his nails.

Every day he would scour the internet, searching for updates on the deadly Virus. On the 4^th of August, it was confirmed that the doctor who had had contact with the Liberian had been infected. On the 9^th of August, one of the nurses who had attended to him was confirmed dead. On 14^th of August, Lagos state sectioned off a ward in Obalende, specially for Ebola victims. Pious thought he wasn’t protected enough, so he stopped taking public buses and stuck to only “Keke” and taxis. Public places such as markets and bars were a no-go area. He was even tempted to join the craze of salt water drinking and bathing that swept through the country.

Then came the day he woke up and felt something wrong within his body. Oh my God, I have Ebola!! He thought frighteningly to himself. But the symptoms were not like any he had read about. He found it hard to breath, his heart beat faster than normal, he was losing sensation in his fingers and toes, and he felt dizzy. What do I do? What’s going on? Am I dying? Am I going crazy? Oh my God I am going crazy.

As soon as it was day break, he headed off to Ikoyi in a taxi to go see a trusted family doctor. Gbenga, the doctor laughed hard when Pious asked him if it was Ebola.

“You had a panic attack Pious…nothing to fear”. The Doctor said.

“Are you sure?” pious asked looking very concerned

“Trust me, my certificate is original, you are very much free from Ebola…you are just really stressed out”. Gbenga continued “I know the Ebola outbreak, if you can even call it that. Is scary, but you shouldn’t stress yourself over it”

“There are about thirty million people in Lagos and there have been only ten cases so far… I mean you should be very careful, no doubt, but you still need to be sure not to overwork yourself and your mind unnecessarily, Lagos stress is already enough to do that. I want you to take a day from work and just relax and enjoy life, you are too young to be having panic attacks”. Gbenga prescribed some drugs and sent Pious off on his way.

It took a while, but Pious did calm down. He even boarded a bus when going back. As he sat in the bus, he felt himself relax, his heart beat and breathing normalized. Me, panic attack? How? Pious thought to himself, am I white? I. was all he could do from laughing out loud. For the first time in a long time, he was aware not anxious of his surroundings. There sat by him a woman cradling her child to sleep. In front, the conductor was cursing at a passenger who had just handed him one thousand Naira bill. Pious looked outside the window, it was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too sunny, too windy, too cold or rainy. There were no extremes. The weather was perfect. He had been crossing the third mainland bridge to and from work for more than 3 months now, yet he never saw what he did today. For the first time he noticed the river which sprawled out on either side of the bridge. The river seemed so serene, so peaceful, so undisturbed, yet so powerful, so majestic. He felt humbled and uplifted at the same time. He took another deep breath.  At that moment, Pious remembered a statement he had read or heard somewhere; Danger is real, fear is a choice. He chose not to be afraid anymore- he felt freer, he felt lighter. He felt alive.

As the bus sped through to the end of the third mainland bridge on this fine Wednesday afternoon, there was a loud pop sound. Before anyone could phantom what had happened, the bus was swerving and spinning out of control. It crashed into an oncoming vehicle, before somersaulting violently into a broken down BRT bus. The scene is chaotic, with screech sounds coming from everywhere, everyone trying hard to avoid the crashed bus. After a moments passed there is just silence, people getting out of their vehicles moving closer to observe the horrific crash site. “No survivors in horrific bus accident on Third Mainland Bridge” was the headline that was carried in the Newspapers the next day.

Life is beautiful because it is ephemeral. Do not let fear stop you from enjoying the beauty of living.

Free verse

Inhale 
Take a deep breath,
Follow the trail
It would lead you into the unknown depth
Like delving into the deepest ocean trench 
You give up all your senses, yet you feel no wrench 
And through the blindness you will know light
You will then realise that seeing doesn't always mean sight 
In your deafness you will find the sweet music of silence 
Enjoying as you are enveloped in the melody of solace 
As you go deeper, you understand the joy of stillness
Revealing life in its ever present infinite bliss
Nothing beats the joy of knowing you are primary 
Knowing that unlimited happiness is yours for free
In this moment you see, hear, and feel the self imposed boundary 
Exhale 

Inhale 
Can you see it now? 
The insanity, we call sanity 
The illusions, we call reality 
Do you hear it now? 
The limitations we call definitions 
Several words and their fatal interpretations 
Can you feel it now? 
The pain of the suffering earth 
As it rotates towards the brink of its apocalyptic death 
You now know, you have all the right answers 
What you were lacking were the right questions 
Exhale 

Inhale 
You now see the flood of insanity drowning humanity
You see the insanity in every form, in every wave 
Only humans seek to "make a living" 
How can you make what you already have ? 
Is it possible to build a house you already live in ? 
All in an effort to ensure that we are never poor
we keep acquiring more and more 
Forgetting that no matter how much we crave 
There will never be enough space for riches in the grave 
Exhale 

Inhale
Remember the words of Rumi
Keep breaking your heart till it opens 
Like bright light from the highest of heavens 
Let your light shine through your mundane reality 
Until all that's left now is wonderful, eternal 
Bare, naked, pure and true
Once you are stripped of all doubts and fears, you will ask
What will I do? if I knew I could never fail
Exhale 

Illusion of Separation

"We blame society, but we are society..."

On my recent return to Nigeria, I arrived through Murtala Mohammed International Airport Lagos. It had been a frustrating morning, from a two hour delay to terrible services aboard a sorry excuse for a plane. As we landed the airport, being herded towards immigration and customs, the most cliché incident happened, the lights went out (don't worry this isn't another cliché lament on the inefficiencies of Nigeria). I wasn't fazed, neither was I shocked at the power failure; if anything it was expected. However, something did happen as we queued up to have our passport checked that surprised me. An immigration officer walking past me lamented "Nigeria sha...only in Nigeria, will such a thing happen". He said this with a shake of his head. For some reason, this did not sit well with me. I mean, I had already heard similar remarks from fellow Nigerians on the queue, so I didn't understand why that of the officer bugged me so. Fast forward a few weeks, I'm in the middle of another typical argument about Nigeria's woes  with a close friend. She then says "Nigeria's problem is not my problem, not my responsibility". All of a sudden it hit me. It was a realisation that silenced me, and threw me into deep thought. I've thought about it before, but just sparingly. However now, it seemed so obvious, so glaring. Finally, I saw through the illusion.

Several of us (especially the youths) are trapped in an illusion. Unfortunately this illusion is self induced; we have decided to trap ourselves in an illusion of separation. The only reason, the remark made by the immigration officer bothered me so much was just because of one simple fact: he was in uniform. A man wearing the immigration service  uniform is a representative of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. As a representative of the state, he has no right to separate himself from the state or the problems of the state. It's like the cashier at a bank complaining to you, the customer, about poor customer service in the bank; it sounds absurd. But in truth, it is my assumption that is absurd. What makes me separate from the state or the problems of the state? My passport doesn't differentiate me from the state. When I'm outside the country I am a representative of the country in its totality. The problems are not the country's alone but mine as well.

Don't get me wrong, I know that certain decisions of key actors  have and still are crippling the nation, but the thing is we are all being influenced by these decisions. We cannot escape it. We being passive and believing that it is "their" responsibility to give us power, water, good roads or safety is getting us nowhere. By separating ourselves from the state and the problems of the state, we are not only giving up our responsibilities but ownership as well. This is our country, not "their" country. Next time you hear a remark such as "Nigeria is a failed state", remember that the true meaning of that remark is that "you are a failed state". Or next time you hear someone say "Nigeria is inefficient", remember that what the person is really saying is that "you are inefficient". It's time as youths and as citizens, for us  to stop the blame game. Let's leave that for the petty party politics and politicians. It's time for us to see past this illusion of separation and take our role as active citizens. Citizens, to which being Nigerian isn't merely a passive adjective used to identify oneself, but an active noun vested with the power to make positive impacts on the country.  We are all stakeholders, and representatives of the state. We are not separate from the state or the problems of the state.

Conviction

What do you fear? What makes you doubt yourself so? Why do you belittle your own potential? I've asked myself this question so many times. I've answered  it so many times. Maybe it's that I'm being held back? or I'm too young and being pressured? I keep putting excuses in my way as to why I shouldn't be great. As these excuses clout my mind like dark clouds on a rainy day, I begin to realise my decline. Slowly by freeing the lease on my decisions and handing it over to someone else, I become comfortable. The same very circumstance I thought I was running away from. I begin to play it safe. My dreams have now become like domesticated birds; they will always have the potential to fly but they know they never will. They will lift off from the ground at rare occasions, but they will never soar into the sky. I know this, I feel this, yet I do nothing. I realise one vital fact about myself though. I lack conviction. I lack that constant energetic fervour that pours through the vein of great people. I have seen it in people around me. This conviction makes them move with solid form through a world of liquid mushy uncertainty. Conviction gives them form and structure. Conviction gives them a purpose. Not having conviction is terrible. it is like existing in an inertial limbo. The certainties of before become the uncertainties of now and the failures of tomorrow. A lack of conviction leads you into a lazy comfortable life of pushing your choices away. You give up yourchoices to the arbitrary bliss of fate.

From time to time, something shakes me up. something that gives me reassurance like receiving a debit alert. It comes in flashes through the norm that is my everyday life. It reminds me repeatedly to be on my toes. It reminds that being comfortable will not hide me from my responsibility. Giving excuses is about being below the bar. Being safe is about staying where you are without having to justify not being where you can be and where you want to be. I might not have conviction, but I believe I faith. I faith in myself, my potential and ability. I have faith that I can excel, I have faith that I can do better and that I will do better. Faith is another form of conviction. It is gentler in its tips and messages. It hides in a motivational word, or an inspirational deed. It is the encouraging friends, the admirable brother, the patience, the sweet tenderness of a lovely sister. I have so much life around me, I have no choice but be alive. I have to wrestle fate to take control of my own destiny. The beauty of life is in living it, not in hiding from it.

Epiphanies

“When was the last time you did something for the first time?” 

I recently had three epiphanies. The first one probably would not be so shocking to the people that know me quite well; I am not planned. I have never used the word “plan” in any way to describe any aspect of my life. I do not store dates down in my calendar (I don’t even have one), neither do I set reminders on my phone. I can’t even remember the last time I was awoken by an alarm. I remember and do stuff according to their importance. So as you can imagine, for a final year student, I am constantly tormented with the remembrance of my thesis. I was enduring one of such torment. Just a week to the mid-semester break, at the library. I stared at my computer screen which was blank except for the heading “Data analysis and interpretation”. A friend of mine, approached me at this moment and asked me to join him on a trip during the mid-semester break. I would have laughed it off as a joke, if I already didn’t know how crazy this particular friend was. Then, I asked where exactly this trip was going to be to. The North of Ghana he said. This time I couldn’t hold down my laughter. I mean there was no justification for this level of craziness. After my laughter, I shook my head and sort to concentrate on other importance things. But then, he (my friend) asked me why I wouldn’t go? As he asked me this key question, I had another epiphany about myself. The thing is, even though I am completely unplanned, I am not spontaneous either. I don’t just get up and do crazy stuff for the fun of it or for the thrill of it. I am far from what you would describe as an adrenaline junky. I do things at my own pace, in a comfortable and safe space. Why would I pack my bags and go around aimlessly in the North, when I can comfortably work on my thesis in the safe Ashesi Campus? As I thought this question to myself I had my third and probably the most important epiphany; I’m a sheep. A sheep here defined as a person with the inability to make choices, for fear of failure or major indifference to the outcome. I was herded into school. I chose Business Administration as a major, because it was close to accounting (my mum’s predicted profession for me). The most exciting choices I had to make were electives. Even then, except for a few exceptions, I always chose the lecturer which was most generous with grades, or the course which I thought was easier (this rationale always led me to horrible choices). So instead of telling my friend no out rightly, I told him I’ll think about it.

So for the next week, I thought about it. It was like a battle between my thesis and the trip. I hear my classmates talking about their thesis and deadlines, and my heart skips a beat out of fear. I see my friend searching through the internet for sites to see in the north, and I grit my teeth as I imagine the potential regret. I have not always been so excellent at setting my priorities but I had done ok. I knew that rationally, my thesis should come first. However, my mind seemed to be appreciating the idea of a trip more and more. The chance to break free from the monotonous routine. The time to break the boundaries of my comfort and safety. I thought to myself, in the next ten to twenty years, what stories would I have to tell about my time in school? Would I be excited to tell people about all the times I was half asleep in class or would I want to tell people of a faltering and funny journey from Accra all the to way to Paga (A border town in Northern Ghana)? It should be noted, that this is not only about being able to tell a story. It is also about knowing that this is probably the only time I would have enough time and energy. Baz Lurhman said in his song, sunscreen “Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth… you would never understand the beauty and power until they’ve faded”. I want to look back at this moment, with an appreciative nod of satisfaction and fulfilment, knowing that I utilized my youth well. Again it’s not just about getting up and traveling. It’s about doing something. It’s time I stopped hiding under the excuse of “I have work to do” or “I have an assignment due”.  Our education is not only in the classroom, our education is the wholesome experience of the entire four years away from home. On the day before the trip, I made my decision (I guess I am spontaneous after all).

On the 2^nd of March, I had my backpack on, my heart was beating a tad bit faster than normal. I was standing beside my friend in a line under the scorching sun of Accra, ready to board the Accra bus straight to Paga. Below is a picture to testify that I would never ever regret or forget this trip.

Comfort

I once received one of those funny pictures that circulated during the height of BBM instant messaging. The picture was that of an old newspaper dated 1985, the caption reading “No more Black Out!!-NEPA”. Without giving much thought to it, I laughed hard and true. The funniest thing was that, the picture had been sent while the lights were out.  I then proceeded to forward it to my other contacts. That was it…that was my reaction to the further realization that my government had failed. There was no outrage, no reflective thought, just a reduction of a grave issue into trivia. I mean, NEPA (Now PHCN) has always been this way. I was never born into a Nigeria which was free from power outages, one which was flowing with regular water supply or one where my parents didn’t bolt the doors and gates to protect us through the night. I inherited a dark, dry and unsafe Nigeria. Although, it would be a great exaggeration to claim that I was at the brunt end of Nigeria’s inefficiencies. When the lights were out, there was a generator to back it up. The only source of water I came to recognize was that of a borehole. There was always the mai guardi, who made us “feel” safe. Yes, you could say I’m one of the "lucky" ones; the ones only grazed by Nigeria’s inefficiencies. The “ones” that are comfortable. That wouldn’t have been so bad, if everyone else was just as lucky as I was.

Recently I was at the library and about to perform my everyday browsing ritual. First, I open my email, followed by Linda Ikeji’s blog, then Daily Mail (Football), and other tabs of interest and assignments. On Linda’s blog, I scrolled down, digesting the day’s gossip and gist. Then my eyes fell atop a familiar bit of news. This news had been repeated over and over again, different varieties but same message. The news read “Boko Haram attacks Federal Govt College Yobe, kills 29 students”. I stopped scrolling, staring at the headline, with a picture of masked militia men carrying arms. My heart beat was normal, my breathing was normal, everything in and around me was going on as normal. I said to myself when would this stop? Instantly, I was triggered to the headline of another piece of news only a few weeks ago: “Photos: Officer killed by Boko Haram to be buried this Thursday”. This was the exact same thing I said, the exact same reaction I had. I then went ahead to open older posts and on the same day as the last similar bit of news was another headline: “Boko haram men attack 2 villages in Borno + Govt seals border with Cameroon”. This particular bit of news was sitting just above the headline; “Super-hot Toyin Lawani stylishly rocks her baby bump for Exquisite”. This became extremely unsettling as I realized to myself, that this, to me seemed normal. The massacre of people sat comfortably with celebrity gossip. I discussed it with a couple of friends and one of them said “it is like old, repeated news…its tiring”. The death of scores of Nigerian citizen is tiring? Are we that comfortable? Are our lives going that fantastically well? Are we that disconnected as a nation?

The killings in itself, is barbaric, gruesome and just plain wicked. However, I believe we have committed a far greater sin; the sin of Apathy. Comfort has made the lot of us apathetic and disconnected. We seem to have sort of tricked ourselves, that what is happening in the North is something far, far, far away. The countless people that are killed there every week are only given a fleeting moments of our thought. There have been an estimated 12,000 deaths due to Boko Haram insurgence between 2012 and 2013 alone. These are staggering and shocking statistics, for a country that is meant to free of war. Even sadder, is the fact that the people being killed have absolutely no influence on any political or economic decisions, yet they pay the price for the consequences of government decisions, or lack thereof. In 2012, the Human Rights Watch released an article titled “Nigeria: Boko Haram Attacks Likely Crimes against Humanity”. Two years on, this is still the same issue we are battling with. It has now become a part of the everyday; a new topic of discussion on BBM or to be more recent, Whatsapp. It is easily becoming one of the inefficiencies of the country. It is easily being accepted as the reality. Soon enough kids won’t understand what it means to live in a Nigeria without Boko haram. Soon enough this will become our reality.

Are we really that comfortable? Are the country’s affairs going as planned? In the same sovereign state, where 70% of the people are below poverty line, is the same nation where $20, 000,000,000 cannot be accounted for. This is a country where universities are plagued with dilapidating infrastructure and rebellious striking lecturers. Our senate approves child marriage but criminalizes gay rights. Our President, in his comfortable distance, comes out to condemn the “killings”, while offering the aggrieved his sympathy. When has this sympathy which he so willingly offers, helped protected anyone from the cruelty of Boko Haram. I laugh when, I hear people attacking him (The President), for not handling the issues of the nation well. I think our dear President is suffering from the exact same thing we are all suffering; comfort. Our comfort has disconnected us so much from the happenings around us. I do not seek to compare to evils or trying situations, but it is fair to say that the Ukrainians did not put up with half the things Nigerians put up with every single day. Yet, the country (Ukraine) is in turmoil and crises because the people know their power and rights, while we remain here dormant. It should be noted that I do not seek to incite or encourage violent protests and anarchy like we have seen in different parts of the world, but I am saying it is high time we woke up.

It is time for us to move beyond having to read a blog post about the deaths of innocent people and seeing comments like “first to comment”. It is time we moved beyond commercialized soft pornography for music videos. It is time to realize that although distance might save you from the brutality of boko haram, it shall not protect you from the terrible policies, unemployment, power failure or inadequate water supply. It is time we moved beyond party politics and realize that APC and PDP are cut from the same cloth. It is time we stop attacking each other with unnecessary sentiments, and start attacking issues with proper planning and discourse. It is time our attitude, thoughts and actions reflect that of our current surroundings. When we open eyes to these truths and so much more we will realize a simple, obvious yet shocking reality; we are not as comfortable as we think we are. Only when our cruel apathy is replaced by genuine empathy shall we move forward.

My father always had a sentence, he would say to us anytime I or my siblings have misbehaved badly. It translated to: Do not let joy, or in other words comfort spoil it. Please, we have to fight hard to ensure we are not blinded by comfort. It is not much, in fact it is grossly inadequate, but I dedicate this to all the “unlucky” ones; the ones feeling the brunt of the harsh realities of Nigeria’s inefficiencies. You are not forgotten, neither are you neglected. I (and hopefully) others shall keep fighting to bring comfort back into your lives.

*Statistic were gotten from U.N reports and index mundi.