one can only consciously dissociate themselves from their immediate environment for so long; it’s all around me. Looking the other way and plugging in my ears won’t change that. This ship is sinking, my feet are soaked and I’m telling myself it’s a little updraft on the waves.
- jpn
Flooded with media content daily, it’s easy to forget the reality of this country. To cope we detach ourselves. Engrossed in shows, movies, social media and pop culture; it’s easy to see why these external experiences spill over into our speech, mannerisms and other aspects of our characteristics.
Don’t get me wrong, this article isn’t to sway anyone from detachment, or to say that detaching yourself as a coping mechanism to deal with the disturbing realities of Nigeria is “bad”. It’s merely a reflection of my experience.
In truth, I was never really in Nigeria. So I plugged in my earphones and powered on every day without a care in the world. Unbothered by the fact that drivers recreated fast and furious scenes, that the kidnapping rate had grown so much in recent times that some people already referred to it as a bustling new industry. Not to mention the ever-increasing crime rates due to the growing poverty and horrible living conditions. My detachment from these realities was so acute, looking back it’s scary just how unsafe going down that path was.
And so I set up my little routines, failed at them, tried again, talked to friends, walked down roads with music blasting at max volume, meditated, mindlessly scrolled on social media, watched movies and such and such. I tried to live as best as I could while shutting out the world around me completely.
Until the ball dropped.
The president tweeted a thread on an incident; singled out an ethnic group and threatened to use lethal force on them.
With all the bullshit that goes on daily in the nation, I’ve always had the stance of “disappointed but never surprised”. However, this particular event made something drop inside me. I felt it sink deeper when I later overheard someone on the other end of a phone call abruptly burst into tears.
I was enraged and at that moment, the delicate walls my detachment had built around me shattered to pieces and I could see the smoke rising all around me. The country was heading towards civil unrest and increased state-sanctioned violence. And this great beast would swallow whole the detached and patriot alike.
That despite the months, even years of slowly separating myself from this country. There was one thing I couldn’t change and that was that my physical body exists in Nigeria, that I breath Nigerian air, that I walk on Nigerian streets and I could at any moment be killed by Nigerian hands and have my blood spilled on Nigerian soil.
The next morning was no better. There was a headline on the news about another school kidnapping (nothing out of sorts). Except I couldn’t help but feel my chest tighten as the principal being interviewed pointed out that some of the children kidnapped were as young as four years old. This was my reality.
My emotions ebbed and flowed within me. It would seem that because my glass wall of detachment had been destroyed the previous night I could feel the emotional impact of tragic news events. I told my co-worker that “I was terrified” and he asked, “why?”. And at that moment, I couldn’t help but laugh, at the hopelessness coupled with the realisation that others like me had detached themselves to function.
My resolve after talking to a friend who also realised that he had detached himself unknowingly, was to acknowledge that yes this country is crap and yes for the most part the atmosphere, is heavy with hopelessness and the citizens go about their day filled with apathy. So while I’ll still dabble in my escapism to give me some respite from this hellhole, I’ll also simultaneously maintain a measure of awareness and if the opportunity presents itself, lend my voice or support to its betterment.
