It’s a Saturday, one of those days to relax and think about a lot of things; the things you can’t change and the things you can.

Life has always been mysterious. Like why are we even here? Is there somewhere from here? Some of the questions that keep the brain firing. I think it’s a good thing that not all questions have answers. Just imagine that we could answer all the questions in the universe, would it make for an interesting existence? Or a rather boring one.


Hope is all we have

I read a post titled Ask the Question. Ask the Direct Question by jennymaire4 where she talked about suicide and how to tackle it. I was pushed to ask a question in the comments; Jenny, what do you think instigates suicide? Her reply was thus; Wow, that’s a difficult question. I think it’s different for everyone, and I don’t want to speak for anyone. Getting to a deep, intense, dark depression and feeling completely hopeless.

I resonated with the word ‘hopeless’. You see, hope is all we’ve got in a bleak existence; hope of some afterlife, hope of things getting better, hope of answers to existential questions. Hope is all we have. Take that away from the human being and you’re left with a bag of bones.

Hope is all we have. Take that away from the human being and you’re left with a bag of bones.

About a year ago, a medical doctor in Nigeria suddenly parked his car on the Third Mainland bridge in Lagos, climbed the railings, and jumped into the lagoon. His body was later found after a couple of days. I remember upon hearing this news, I thought, ‘What would make someone park a car on a bridge and jump off the bridge into an obviously scary body of water?’ And I couldn’t find any answers!

Hope is all we have

What makes people commit suicide? What makes the human being want to take his/her own life? We could spin theories all around the place; maybe a terminal illness, maybe a violent threat on life, maybe chronic depression, just name it. But all these cases lead to a single evidence; hopelessness.

Hopelessness is like a dark cloud that fills one’s universe such that there is no point in existing anymore. In contrast, hope is that one thing, that one thread that literally keeps you alive. Without that silver lining, we fall, deep into an abyss we’ve always feared; hopelessness.

There are some days I battle with my existence, I guess this is quite normal for the average human being. And I kind of observe myself down the emotional blackhole. One thing I have come to observe is that no matter how low I get (and trust me, I have gotten as low as low could get) there always seems to be that last drop of hope that springs me back to life like magic; be it some random thought, maybe a change in mindset, something inconsequential.

Sometimes I feel hope is that thing that God or evolution uses to prod us along, just the way a lioness prods her trailing cubs. There is even a passage in the bible that sticks in reference to hope where the rich man looked up to Abraham and cried, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.” Just the way water soothes our thirst, that’s the same way hope obliterates depression.

Give someone some hope today, compliment them, smile at them, shake their hands, show them that you care. Drop some hope on the world today.

22/06/2018 7:26

Good morning, world. Well, it’s morning here in Nigeria and maybe most parts of the world.

It’s a beautiful day. Every day is a beautiful day. Another day to take it all in. Another day to ask the same rhetorical questions that have no apparent answers.

You know, I was just thinking; what a beautiful feeling it will be to live in space. Really, not that Earth is boring or anything, but it would make more meaning to my being to dine among the stars. For me the universe as we know it is my inspiration. Since the beginning of time we humans have always been looking up to the skies, even to the point of worshiping it. What this trait depicts is a yearning for more. A yearning for the beyond. Earth as we know it is just a tiny piece of the puzzle.

I was opportune once to dream of a planet with all the contortions and all, but real close, like real real close. It felt like the planet was showing me its power, its existence, its being. And I was shaken. ‘How freaking huge!’ Planets are gods mehn. It would make more sense to worship a planet than to worship the skies. The latter being a figment of a mother planet’s imagination. Earth is a mother to us. She is big, well, compared to our almost inconsequential size. So next time you step on an unsuspecting ant crawling on the floor because of how easy it is, just remember that you’re like an ant in the desert compared to mother Earth’s size.

Inhabitants of planet Earth, please take a moment to appreciate what you’ve been standing on all your life.

Have an Earth-filled day.


I’m holding a knife to my neck and the universe turns the other cheek unperturbed. The universe doesn’t stop me from killing myself. I knew it! The universe doesn’t care about what happens to me, or to anyone else. Then, what’s the point of living? What are we to the universe? What does the universe really care about?

Information; the universe only cares about the information that it holds, and governs. I am information, and so is everyone else. And the job of the universe is to store information, not to interfere. But I am conscious information. I am information that knows itself. I am information that asks questions, that knows it exists.

But every day, in this mansion, in this rocking chair, on the porch, I think, breathe, eat and live with the unknowns of life. I’m seventy now and yet to reconcile with any of life’s overhyped meanings. Forty years of failed marriages, forty years of chasing money round the clock, and this is what I have to show for it – my gnarled self on a rocker; alone and lonely.

“By all means, marry…” I read somewhere, and marry I did; infact, six times. Six marriages and I couldn’t get it right.

“…If you marry a good wife you’d be happy, and if you marry a bad wife you’d become a philosopher.”

My third marriage made me a philosopher faster than a kerosene wick flames up. Amaka almost wrecked me. She just kept needing and needing until my avarice wasn’t sufficient anymore. The divorce left me with scraps. Last I heard of her, she’s dead. Still, I didn’t learn my lesson. I married three more times after. Can you blame me? In a world where man is supposedly made for woman and vice versa, can anyone really fight evolution’s call? Isn’t it so convenient, man and woman? Imagine a world of only men, or of only women. I should have known better, it’s too convenient indeed. Woman sees man as her purpose and man sees woman as his purpose, and together they somehow isolate each other’s existential quandaries. No! It’s too easy, more like a trap, I know this thanks to six failed marriages.

Enough about failed marriages, I have a knife to my neck and I’m going to do it. The universe doesn’t care and I’m getting out. I’m getting out of this misery, this Pandora’s Box, to a place I know not. I sometimes imagine, to where do people go when they die? But I’m not thinking of that right now. Here I am, as tiny as an ant on a massive blue ball, holding a sharp object to my neck, and I expect the universe to give a damn? Maybe I’m the egocentric one, the bloated sense of importance I dawned on in my money-making years has seeped its way into my era of enlightenment. So truly nothing has changed, I’m still the same old egocentric me. Now I’m really going to end it.

“Dad, what are you doing?” A frail voice in front asks.

I tilt my head up as the knife drops from my palm. It’s Diji, my first son. His son, Somto, is standing beside him. I feel terribly ashamed as I look into my grandson’s eyes. It’s as if he caught wind of what I intended to do. My son looks worried. I want to reply Diji, but shame won’t let me.

“You’re a coward, dad,” Diji says and turns around with Somto.

I fall from my rocker and burst into tears.