In The Brief Moments That We've Spent Here

Past days have been filled with joy even though I lost some important things in my life. I am learning not hold unto things that don't belong to me or don't want to be held. Here's to loosing emotions

Most of my final days in the university were riddled with me battling with depression and dark thoughts. In year three, I made a close suicidal note on Facebook that got my whole class bustling. That night, I received the numbers of calls I had ever received in my life. My brother, whom I was staying with, texted me intentionally for the first time because of the note. A couple of messages also trooped in from WhatsApp and Facebook. I just wanted to express how I felt but I ended up becoming an object of pity. I could read it on the faces of my classmates whenever they approached me afterwards that I was a half-formed thing, a broken thing, a half thing with something dead inside of it. The embarrassing attention the message got forced me to delete my account but I later struggled to create a new face for myself on Facebook. So I started sharing anything related to writing. From my pieces to others I find insightful. Yet, I was burning inside. Something was getting scratched and scratched inside me but I had to bottle it. I had to keep it inside because while I appear to be vulnerable, I hate the pityness that accompanies it. The difference between being vulnerable and broken is the difference between a broken rope and a weak one. A weak one can be relaxed and attached to other bodies to feel whole. A broken one is simply broken. But I have also come to realize that being too vulnerable is harmful. I have lost a lot of relationships because no one is ready to carry a burden, no matter how strong they are. Everyone gets to their “peak”. So they leave.

When I was still in school, I thought of seeking help from the school services but the section that caters for mental health is a haunting place. You go there hunting for help. You come out haunted. A classmate, Jude, sought the school's help but the help was never enough. He died from his own hands. While I don't fear death, I have been thinking about how I don't want my existence to just be “there”, impactless. Even though my mum is a huge poll for me to hold onto anytime this kind of thought walks into my heart, I still want to write words that will spark light in people's hearts. I am not there yet. And I don't want to go until I get there. Though who am I to deny the wishes of Allah? But I know who I am now. I know what my heart is now. It is full of light and joy.

So they leave.

*

I am watching as things rev past me, in blurs, in rushes, and I am just here, watching on. My eyes are closing but there's a spirit of consciousness that denies me sleep when I'm traveling. And I allow it too. It is when I find myself dozing that I find something to distract me. It could be music. I could start reading. I could spark a conversation with a stranger in the car or bus. I deny my body the luxury it deserves, sometimes. But I don't regret it because I am training the body for the days of unprepared “uncomfortabilities”. Just like I denied it from resting one midnight, on the starkly dark road to Akwa-Ibom. I have learnt that unforeseen circumstances are what make us realize how prepared we are. You could use them to measure your journey. I don't know if that makes sense but it works for me. I starve sometimes even when I have plenty of food at home. I am not glorifying poverty. It is just my own way of reminding myself who I was and what I can be, a big thing.

*

I just passed through Mufutau Lanihun College of Education and a scene started playing in my head: I had been locked in one of the stores in the school by the security. My offense? I was peeping into one of the classrooms. I was 7 and my sister was just finishing from the school. But I wasn't there for my sister who was in the school. I was there because another sister was having her Waleematul Qur'an. While everyone else was on the field rejoicing with her, my nephew and I went to the back of one of the buildings and started playing ’one touch’ with a plastic ball we found around. I almost cried my belly out because my nephew was wiser even though he was younger. The moment he heard the security man call us, he ran. But me, the obedient foolish one, went ahead and he grabbed me and locked me up for minutes or hours. I didn't have anything on me to measure time.

I have learnt that unforeseen circumstances are what make us realize how prepared we are.

This episode reminded me of how much we've experienced in the brief years we've spent here but because we are always moving, we are always climbing, we never get a chance to stop and relive those moments. Although some moments are meant to never be relived, I think we should sit down someday and try to remember random stuff. We all have unique stories to tell.