THIS ABSTRACT LIFE

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Abstract World

Why is my heart feeling as if there is a void in my life? Truly, I feel unfulfilled as the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months and the months into years. Yet, it all seems like yesterday, when the vision of my today began unmasking itself. Who am I and what is my mission on this earth plain? Questions that needed answers keep racing through my mind each day…from the rising of the sun to its going down.
Let me paint a picture of my mind to you. I’m not a Picasso or a Rembrandt, but I’ll try! It is an abstract mixed with the cruel reality of life in a country called Nigeria. I see a flurry of activities all around me, yet nothing seems to be moving. There is a cloud of light in the mix of an odyssey of pitch darkness somewhere in the heavenly. Some colours of hope radiate within that sphere of the clouds with an easy calmness that cannot be expressed in human words. What could this mean, I ponder at it with the interest of a child caught in fascination of an aura?
 I feel hot in my soul and the temperature of my spirit…the real me, is angered by the hope that is eluding.
There’s a three sixty degree scan of the periscope of my mind searching for a beacon of hope in this odyssey. I needed that invisible hand of hope to touch me and lift me out of the dry pit of life in a society that is full of hypocrisy and double standards. Oh! how much I hate the injustice and the lawlessness that is the order of the day. Could the people in high authority claim ignorant of the suffering and decay beneth, that is causing further rot down the socio-economic ladder of life. I have worked and laboured loyally to a disloyal boss! Who refuses to pay me the wages of my labour. Him and his cohorts are puffed up by the easy-to-write cheque books of their organizations. A stroke of that pen has given them the comfort fools dream off, so my toiling under the heat of the sun is yet another chapter in the catalogue of deceived victims. Oh! it hurts to the bone marrow!
Am pacing back and forth, the night has come and the plans I made at the new dawn has expired with the day.
The family is gathered in the living room and the kids are treading all over the place. My two bedroom house is no longer adequate. I can’t think straight under the noise and distraction been generated joyfully. I love the kids…but I need my space to off-load the daily pressure of life…that thing called stress! The solution is my BMW, a mid-executive salon car. The escape route is to causally stroll to the veranda and then disappear into the darkness to the partially lit parking lot of my expansive compound. Once I am inside the car, every sound outside is filtered by it heavy insulation. I can then hear myself speak and even sing. The feeling is awesome!
Whenever I switch myself to that mode, my wife’s remark is often sympathetic.
She calls the car the third room in the house. By the way, I recorded my ring tone from the quiet ambience of the car, its almost like being in the studio. The lyrics of the ring tone is “Praise the Lord! Today is a good day!” Even in the worst of days, whenever my mobile phone rings I’m forced to accept it as being a good day. At times I want to switch-off the ring tone before it gets to the part that says it’s a good day. In retrospect, no one asked me to record it…it’s all my creation and desire! Woosh! what a life!!! Imagine falling down and hurting your ankle and the pain is so severe, then suddenly the phone rings and that ring tone tell you it’s a good-day, what will you do? Smash your handset or delete the offending ring tone? I leave you to decide.
The serene atmosphere of the “third room” in the house is suddenly disrupted by the blinking security light. I am forced to come out of the car into the abstract environment of pollution filled air …the oil in the generator has shortened. Yes, any second from now the generator would switch-off and the entire compound will be thrown into pitch darkness. A quick dash to the generator could be dangerous without an artificial light to aid the navigation through the stony grounds of the compound. By the way, the house is on the slope side of a hill. Over the years that we have been living here…our sense of balance has adjusted to walking up and down and sideways. Of course, there is the occasionally sliding off balance and landing butt first on the stony pebbles. If you’re unlucky, the pebbles will act as rollers and extend your fall to the more level area of the compound.
A quick dash to the location of the generator before the lights switched off saved the entire compound from being thrown into pitch darkness. As I stared at the traces of lights sparkling in the plains below. My blood boils in anger! From my vantage hill side residence, I could tell those areas in the plains below that are enjoying public electricity supply. Why must life in a country of blessed abundance be of such sadness! Billions of dollars have been sunk into the electricity industry by the government, but where is the light? Switches all over the house but none flicker on the public power supply. Is it a mirage? No, the dollars are real and are of the USA brand! Where is the supply….please, someone should tell me where to connect my air conditioner to cool off from the night heat. I’m thinking of migrating with my entire family to Europe or a nearby African country, Ghana, perhaps! If only to press the switch on the wall, and see the light bulb come alive at any given time of the day. What joy would fill my heart and my soul will be comforted.

 

 

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