Parents

 Today, I find myself thinking of how everything my parents ever tried to teach my siblings and I can be summarised with three short sentences. 

Do not steal. 

Do not lie or deceive people. 

Do something good with your life. 

I came up with these three sentences because I was wondering if my parents would be proud of me if I died today. 

This is not to say that my parents had the whole parenting all figured out and my childhood was all roses and comfort. Far from that: this is to say that, in the midst of all the difficulty of growing up in, what was then, a low-income family, all my parents ever demanded from my siblings and I was to be upright members of society and make good use of our limited time on earth. 

As simple as that may sound, I’m grateful for such simplicity. It sets a tone and makes it so much easier for me to get through the days I wonder what the point of life is.

Update!

This month was the anniversary of my first novel. My plan was to publish the second part of it on its anniversary, but Cent proposes and Covid opposes, innit? It has been a tough year for me in every aspect of my life, but most especially mentally. All the uncertainty that Covid brings to our daily lives takes its toll. Part of that toll is that it is extremely difficult to plan anything these days. It is, perhaps, even more difficult to stick to any plans.

Another part of Covid’s toll, for me, is the inability to focus on anything for reasonable periods of time. News always seems to seep through one’s consciousness and interrupt things. Most of the times its not good news. Of course, 21^st century connectivity levels make any effort to shut it all out futile. I suppose we would all have to adapt.

There is also the small matter of keeping up with our loved ones. Every call or text from your loved ones, who live far from you, reassures you that they are safe, but not before giving you a mini-heart attack. Especially if you have anxiety.

On a more personal level, Nigeria keeps getting worse with no end in sight. To think that a few days after I published my book, the #EndSars movement started. It was a movement which gave me so much hope. Hope that was crushed on the 20^th of October 2020, barely 3 weeks later. The things that died within me in the aftermath of that day may never be reborn. It may yet turn out to be that the brutal way the #Endsars protests were halted, will do more damage to me, and a lot of Nigerian youth all over the world, than Covid-19.

Anyway, I say all of that to try to explain and apologise to the people who were expecting me to keep to my word and publish the 2^nd part of my novel this past month. I hope you understand, all three of you. Its kinda difficult to recount and write about past trauma, while experiencing more traumatic events.

Hopefully, my experiences over the past year have made me a better writer, and when I do eventually publish this second book, it will be so much better than the first one. Thank you.