I have spent these jobless, school-less months pondering the vanity of this life.
I am thirsty for frugality; thirsty for the much underrated nothingness. I am clinging to the floor with what’s left of my bitten nails as I get sucked into the futility of Lagos’ religion of display. I feel my nails beginning to peel off and the flesh of my fingertips erupting blood, resisting the forceful pull and calls of people expecting me to join in their worship.
The truth is, it’s not just Lagos I feel this towards. It is humanity as a whole. However, for some reason, being in Nigeria intensifies the feelings.
What do we gain from all our fuss and struggle? What do we obtain from all our study and certificates, all our work, sweat and demeaning salaries? If I study to the highest level, my transcript would end up being the food of cockroaches or wrapping paper for boli. If I earn in six figures, it would all still end up in the same place eventually – with someone else.
Again, what do we gain from all this fuss? From the gold to the parties, the heaps of jollof rice and moi-moi, to the flashy cars and ginormous houses. I am sick of it all.
I am sick of all the lies and deceit and the backstabbing and selfish intent. I am disgusted by the wickedness that brews in the heart of everyone. I just want to go away from it all. To live a life of little; to have wants of little. With my short time, I want to be free from weight pulling me down. I want to cut off non-essentials and live happily.
I am hankering for simplicity, an uncomplicated existence away from the smoke and fumes of grotesque humanity, away from the fake smiles and false family and friends. An existence where every word uttered is that of truth and sincerity no matter how bitter.
I dream of a place where clothes don’t matter, shoes are inconsequential, cars are farces, and parties are true celebrations of joy and not disgusting displays of wealth that isn’t really there. I am groaning for simplicity.
Arggh! But even if I’m able to achieve my blissful dream, it would mean nothing. Like everything else, it too would be lost one day.
This is a cruel existence we live. We labour so much for all to come to an end. Then another generation rises, does its own work and then its lost . Nothing we are, nothing we do will last. We are all living for our end.
Like the ants we crush and the mosquitoes we clap, we are heading for the same destination. Every creature will meet its demise.