Re-entry

Three thousand miles and several months later, i find myself home again. Funny enough, though barely two years have passed since i left these shores yet it feels more like a rediscovery of something lost (or  the requisition of a thing once discarded). Everything is different, and, both simultaneously and ironically, everything is exactly the same. The joy of being reunited with family is tempered with the unforgiving contrast between the experience of what was home for over two and a half decades and the quiet and serene balance I had come to accept and embrace in my sojourn in the land of mountains and shores. The sprawling metropolis that is Lagos, teeming with humanity, absent-mindedly going about their business. The sky is suddenly ugly and gray, everything seems dusty and, when night falls, the unforgiving darkness and the bloodsuckers that hide within it.

Before long, I find myself regressing to the state of quiet, surly discontent in which I have, in my perspective, ambled along for most of my experience in this setting. The compromise I have managed to achieve, my most familiar method of coping with the daily contradictions of life on the continent.

My responsibilities do not afford me the time to reflect on my state of mind, on the disquiet stirring up once again somewhere deep within me and, in typical fashion, I am swept up in the flow of life in urban Nigeria once more. The days blur into one gray dull continuum with soul-numbing lectures occasionally punctuated by reunions with old friends and colleagues. Before long, I find myself fluctuating between bouts of despair and resentment at what I perceived to be my predicament (particularly the overwhelming sense that something was wrong with virtually everything) and the frustrating acceptance of the situation that the people around me had come to develop;an almost militant reluctance to even accept the existence of a state of anomy in some cases or the possibility of change in others. Before long, I found myself subconsciously expressing resistance to the not-so-new state of affairs by quietly and subtly disconnecting from everything. My nonchalance a tacit protest to what I perceive as my yielding to the gradual but relentless drift of events in a general direction that I do not necessarily agree with but can not seem to extricate myself from.

Time and again I contemplate writing something, but nothing seems to stir behind these eyes.

Then, suddenly, a package arrives in the mail, a collection of books ordered months ago and sent by a benevolent friend and mentor. In my hour of need i was afforded much-needed respite. out of this treasure-trove, I picked out Life’s Operating Manual (the fear and truth dialogues by Tom Shadyac) and rediscover what i already knew, remember what i had been ignoring. its message re-kindled a spark that has left me with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.

The world might indeed be broken, and it might be our collective responsibility to fix it, but the first step down that path is to discover who we are. To, in our own way, find within ourselves our true identity and harness this as a tool to remake this world into what it ought to be. Every society has it challenges, indeed all societies are but a small piece of a mosaic and each individual contributes to constitute whichever society he happens to be a part of. Thus, armed with a deep knowledge of our true identity and purpose, we can affect people, either one at a time or in larger numbers and ultimately, effect a change in our society. Like Prometheus’ gift, this will spread and, eventually the whole world would be alight with the fire of change; positive change.

Perhaps it’s a pipe-dream, but sometimes, all it takes is a dream, and the resolve to make it bear fruit.

Play!…No, seriously

I recently had the great fortune of reading a book called “Play” by Dr. Stuart Brown; a Psychiatrist and founder of the National Institute for Play. I have to admit it was difficult for me, initially, to take the book seriously based on the title. I quickly came to realise however, how mistaken my impression had been.

I cannot recall any book having a more profound effect on me. He wrote extensively on the nature and relevance of play and, more importantly, the implications and consequences of its absence. While it is easy to assume that play is important for toddlers and young children, we tend to fail to realise that it is an essential aspect of a healthy life, regardless of age. The lives of the average human in modern society is driven by many things; survival, turning a profit, turning in that term paper or satisfying your boss.  We seldom get a chance to stop and play. Even childhood, that bastion of recreation, has had to survive a recent onslaught as more and more children all over the world face growing pressure from home and school to put in extraordinary performances at school for a chance to have what ostensibly appears to be a better future. There have been stories in the news of school-aged girls committing suicide or students adopting bizarre sometimes potentially dangerous practices to either help them stay up much later than their peers or retain knowledge better.

It is pertinent to note, however, that the opposite of play is not work. It is a gray and dull blandness bordering on depression. Whether it’s going fishing on a lazy saturday, a quick game of golf at the club or yelling at your tv while your favourite athletes bring the pain on a hated rival team (go Arsenal!) we all need a moment from the near constant barrage of everyday life. And just like the typical heterogeneous approach toddlers have, everyone has their own brand of “play”.

So take a moment to indulge, discover your own type (of play) and let loose. It might be just what the doctor ordered.

NoTears for Palestine…

with glazed eyes have we all watched,

dying innocents,

a familiar spectacle.

how time dulls memory,

Gaza has become Warsaw;

yesterday’s victims

now rain fire from the heavens

– no tears for Palestine

winding down

I’m sitting on a bench and staring at the ocean; bright, beautiful calm waters that beautifully reflect and blend into the Caribbean sky in the distant horizon. The sun leaves a shimmering trail on its surface, like a golden path leading on to the distant future. I wonder, once more, what it’d be like to walk on water.

golden path

One of the things I will miss about this place, as my time here draws to a close, is the beautiful sea; the green and tall mountains with their beautiful vista and wreath of clouds are a close second. They pale in comparison to the experience of crossing the sea to Nevis though. The quiet anticipation as we board the ferry, then, seconds later, the near-childish dash for seats at the tip of the vessel where we can feel the wind in our faces and watch the holy matrimony of sky and sea. We catch glimpses of the flashes of silver as flying fish show off their god-given talent, the fine spray of salt-water all around us and the hum of the ferry’s engine beneath our feet as we (my friends and I) ride the waves.I have found that, for me at least, it always brings a sense of being at peace. Perhaps it’s the sense of detachment as we leave the island in our wake. Maybe it’s all the empty sky above us and blue ocean around us.

Caribbean blue

Whatever it is, I feel unfettered; almost understand why the fish propel themselves out of the water like they do (the sudden play impulse that comes with the magic of the open sea),  perhaps this is what it feels like to fly. Behind us, the island is slowly covered by a mist, as though some ancient deity from a long-forgotten time had drawn a curtain  to conceal it from view.

receding island

For a moment I’m lost in thought, imagining what it must have been like for the first seafarers to discover this land all those ?millennia ago. It might be presumptuous to feel some form of kinship with them but I can’t help but visualize the look-out in  the crow’s nest screaming “Land!”  at the top of his voice.

It’s several minutes later and Nevis approaches. The ride is almost over and the magic starts to fade. But I’ll always carry it with me, that feeling of being “in-between” and the strange satisfaction that comes with it. The feeling of endless horizons and limitless possibilities.

skydragon; Nevis