Going down memory lane, I remembered the day I came into this world. Sipping into my blurry vision and half opened little eyes were faint shades of illuminations I’ve never seen before. In the land where I come from, there are huge rays of lights, golden streets, diamond floors and many people going about in bright white garments. Such faint illumination as I see now I have never seen before. If this is where my maker wants me to come – then, I better go back and lay my complaint at His feet. As I tried to go back, I felt a strong hold pulling and jerking me out of the little enclosure that has come to be my closest ally for nine long months during my sojourn to earth.
God! Why? God! I am been robbed of my little spaceship! All of a sudden, I heard a loud scream so sharp enough to burst my ear drums and I can hear the sounds of various people calling and encouraging the screamer to scream more! PUSH! What in God’s name is PUSH? That’s not my name, how can I be called a name that’s not mine in this strange land already? The screamer screamed louder again and this time I was so scared! Danger must surely be lurking around the corner for me if someone can be so loud in her wailing. Out of fear and uncertainty of what’s coming to me too. I let out huge bursts of cries, I screamed so hard my voice drowned that of the original screamer!
Oh my God! He’s a male! He’s a man! Praise the Lord, He is a lanky man! What in God’s….I am a boy, not a man or a male or whatever it is these people think I am, are these people blind or something. I tried to protest but none would listen and it made me cried even more and more until I fell into a deep sleep where I saw a messenger from my maker who told me not to cry anymore, that this place I am now will be my new home. I tried to complain about the name they gave me and he explained that the name is still the same as “boy” and that is not yet my name. I tried to complain about the loud screamer and he told me that the loud scream I heard was the sound of my spaceship coming to a stop. Well, still bewildered on that anyway…well…
What I saw next were two people discussing the terms of my life for me while I looked on. One of them, probably the man, said “my son will become a lawyer” and the other voice which I now recognize as the woman, the screamer and my food bank said “no, I want him to become whatever he wants to become in life, I want him to carve out his destiny with his own hands”…well…still bewildered anyway…well…
Second Encounter
I am a Nigerian by birth, origin and citizenship. I have aspirations, I have goals, I strife and endeavor to live a better life. I want to make my mark; I want to be useful to my generation. I want to make my country and my country people proud. Father said “become a lawyer”, mother said “go out and become what you want to become”. A lawyer, I might become –maybe not in trade but in fulfillment of my father’s wish. I want to become what my heart tells me. What does my heart want me to become. I have found my interest, I have found my passion. My passion is you, my passion is people, my passion is Nigeria.
I live every day of my life struggling through the many trials of life to make it out of my rainy days into my sunny days. I look around and I see my people suffering, I see them waiting for their fantasy messiah – a messiah that is no where to be found – a messiah that does not exist. But they still look forward to it. Who is the messiah, how can this so called messiah be recognized? I have also dreamed of meeting my messiah someday. I have looked to the left and right, I have searched all around me waiting for the sounds of the clanging bells announcing the return of the messiah. When will he show up, where is he? I don’t know if he will come – as a matter of fact, I don’t think he’s coming after endless years of searching. I believe the messiah is real, I believe he should exist – even if his existence is just a mere figment of imagination - of our thoughts. Thoughts they say is the origin of life, it is the very basic core upon which the foundations of the earth was laid. Everything we are and we have now are results of our individual thoughts. If you can think it, you can be it. If the messiah exists only in thoughts, then it can be manifested in actions.
I have now come to realize that an individual is a messiah to himself. It is up to us to decide how we wish to live our lives. Either we wish to help others live their lives by helping them discover the messiahs in them or we just want to support ourselves personally by utilizing the messiah in us to benefit us and us alone. In spite of these, it is obvious that an average Nigerian child wants to live a life of fulfillment as an adult by becoming a master over many.
In realization of these facts, I have decided to pitch my tent in the camp of the “helper-messiahs”. It takes personal will power to continue pressing in this direction. I, a typical Nigerian child like many others have a dream, an urge to PUSH my way to the top and become an umbrella to many by helping them discover their talents. Just like many other Nigerian children, I have been faced with disappointments and criticisms. Its another story of neglect and rejection everywhere I turn. Nigerian youths keep on lamenting about the road blocks that has been placed on their ways by the society, the government, and the country in general.
It might be true that if you are not from a wealthy family in Nigeria, your chances of making it to the top would be automatically limited. It might also be true that if you do not have political connections or people in the high places, you will always get turned down in all ramifications. No one is willing or praying to help us make it to the top. No matter how hard we struggle to come out with a plan that will benefit the country, there are still people who despite the good life they already have, pray to feast on your own skeleton by using your plan to rake in millions without you receiving an ordinary “thank you” in return for your hard work.
Many Nigerian youths has been led to desperation and frustration. Every master plan they had ever come up with has either been rejected or stolen from them. This has led them to explore various illegal and criminal ways of making a living. At the end of the day, the same caliber of people who stole our dreams away are still the ones who will prosecute and condemn us. They will call us names, heap up the blames on us, and throw us in the dungeons. They give better life to their wards while throwing away the lives of other people’s children.
This is not the country I want; this is not the true definition of my origin. This is not the country that goes about saying “Nigeria, good people great nation”. This is not the true definition of my country Nigeria. I am trying to live a life free of crime, why do you want to make me go the wrong way. I am trying not to do shady dealings, why won’t you help me do the right deals! Why? Why oh why!?
On the day of my naming ceremony; my father said, you are my son, your names shall be Adeyemi Ayodeji and you are a Nigerian, make sure you don’t forget it. Go out into the world and make your country proud of you. It has been almost thirty years ago since my father said those words. For over twenty years, I have been searching for the true definitions of those words – the more I try, the more I get thrown down. I am not resting, I will keep trying. I promise my country – I WILL KEEP TRYING!
Hear this, you tyrants, you oppressors, you dream shatterers, you heartbreakers and you silent killers. I am a Nigerian child and I don’t care if you are John the Reaper or Clifford Orji. What I care about is simple; YOU CAN NOT STOP ME. No, you are not strong enough to put me down because my name is Adeyemi Ayodeji and I am a Nigerian child.
IF YOU WILL NOT HELP ME GROW, DON’T HAMPER MY EFFORTS
God bless The Federal Republic of Nigeria
Long live The Federal Republic of Nigeria
God bless us all
-Adeyemi Ayodeji
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