I need a break, we all do.
Howdy! Ebube here, I would ask how you’re doing but I’m in too much of my own limbo to carry someone else’s, maybe next time. Between sleep deprivation and other things that go into making sure things keep moving, I can genuinely say I’m tired. It’s one of those times when I want to cut my hair and try to lose 20 pounds in 3 months.
Too much has happened in such a short amount of time and while I know that I need to rest, I worry that I do not have enough resilience. I keep telling myself that this is the easiest time of my life, I can’t be stressed because I don’t have anything to be stressed about and I need to keep moving.
In times like this, I wish I had more grace to give myself, that I figure out what is transferred emotion, what is out of my control, re-evaluate my options, and decide what success would mean in this situation.
One of my vices is that I am one of those people who believe in the law of attraction. I probably set the most unrealistic expectations for myself. Get good at this in 3 months; finish this design in an hour (I did this weekend, and boy was I wrong). What does the law of attraction have to do with this? I believe that if I can think of something, then I can do it and I have to do it exactly how I thought about it. Don’t do it, kids.
In the past week, there have been conversations about religion and how far we need to go to protect our faith. A young lady was murdered in Sokoto for alleged blasphemy, alleged because it hasn’t been proven. She was beaten to death, then burnt. Among the variety of reactions and uproar, this act has seen, we have seen humans and what we think of ourselves.
Several clerics condemned the act, and several others approved it, citing it as a necessary action, there have been many debates, many self-righteous takes, much gaslighting, and even more inhumanity.
This is not new to me, hence it doesn’t surprise me. No, not the inhumanity, the defense of one’s faith.
I grew up in Northern Nigeria, Kaduna state precisely and while I have been the victim of few to none of such attacks, I know the stories well. I know that I cannot go to a part of town at certain hours, I know I cannot say certain things in certain places, I know that my family had to live on the roof of our house during the Sharia riot, and my neighbor in the gutter. I know that my safety is purview to what someone else deems inappropriate or a breach of their beliefs.
A few years ago, my cousin mentioned that if Nigeria was going to split(assuming two halves, horizontally), I would be half-caste because my mum and dad are from the north and south, respectively. I might need a visa or some form of a pass to get into either state of origin.
In times like this, I think of what it means to be a Northerner and what it means to be from the South, which one of these places I claim as home, and which one of these places would accept me as theirs.
Today, I went into a pocket frenzy and called my dad, he sounded tired after a 45-minute conversation. I imagine him worrying about me now, telling my mum about it while they have dinner. Chances are, I’ll be the top prayer point at family devotion tomorrow morning.
