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I’m just realising the rich content in Lenrie Peter’s poem above. After all, I never paid much attention to the many issues it communicated while in High School. As much as I loved Arts, Literature being my top-notch, I never saw the need to put into practice what it meant to grow older. When it comes to writing and constructive analysies, I bisected every stanza- this is not pride. It was one my favourite subject, and I was always eager for the next Literature class.


As a teenager who was just experiencing youthful exhibitions and exuberance, who knew nothing about the reality in the outside world, I had it all planned out- from the basics, through high school and the University. That was exactly what a normal teenager would do- everyone wants roses, one without thorns through a mild walk away from worries and pains- Picture Perfect. I knew nothing about growing old, maybe I did. Yeah, I celebrated birthdays, but the essence of climbing the heights of maturity and infact age? Uhn-uhn. I wanted to be ever young- forever young.


Well, happenings around now has opened my eyes to the ambiguity of life, to the many flings it throws at you to deal with, and at times beats you to the ground. Life’s a clove, hidden in the tiniest of psychological brutality. Now, it seems our whole life is upside down. What we wished we had, the life we wanted to live; as a nation, the economy we wanted to invest in- where are they?


We are stuck here together in our homes, watching as time passes- some of us have lost count of days, whoop! We are all riddled in depression, sorrow and despair. The biggest quantum had in years rendered our hopes futile. I find it almost baseless, arguing with humanities profound grief; it’s beyond me to fully dive into the oceans of bitterness and strife. “The gods are angry, and a sacrifice is needed for appeasement”; or maybe the entire world is waiting, waiting for a candle lit by a flame, spinning through the endless darkness.


What does it look like? Our political, social, economic relevance, on hold? Just when we had it all progressive and fine, our set time to experience the harvest of this freshed baked destiny, exploitation came to be just another means of livelihood, especially for the higher powers. Abuse became normalized, corruption became a tool for pertinence. Which is right- to exploit or be exploited? Nigeria is a different story, and I almost want to puke each time I remember the stupidity we call politics.


We shall prey on each other, we shall impose ruthless dehumanization- and then crumble like the gigantic Titanic. You remember the story, don’t you? Face it! What comes to your mind when you ponder on all these? You smile? Groan? You find it satisfying? I’m talking to you, yeah, You!


3 Scores in few months time and we are still being spoon fed – breastmilk, rather than cartilages. We should grow up while growing older. Right about time we sit tight and wrestle ‘eyes closed’ or alternatively, be blown away as chaffs.

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