Sitting quietly by my bedside, where my head should be resting, I can't help but think about the hassles and vicissitudes of life. I'm in my 30s, and I've spent more time crying than I did when I was a child - and mind you, I am not even someone built for tears. The struggles of a young man carrying heavy weights on his chest, and literally on his head, are not spoken about enough.
We don't talk enough about how life becomes so difficult and unbearable for a man who has almost no one to fall back on. With only a glimpse of hope at daybreak, he moves clumsily. Sometimes he even romanticizes the idea of ending it all. But because of an undying hope, he continues. The world is so busy, and many won't understand how much opportunities can pass one by because of things that shouldn't be.
A friend once invited me to a walk-in interview where he was being interviewed. I decided to pounce on that opportunity, because chances like that don't come every day. I took my bath, brushed my teeth, completely forgetting to eat - that which has become a coping mechanism. I rushed to a POS woman on my street to borrow money. Alas, she wasn't at her shop. I started to panic.
The next idea was to walk to the provision store woman not far from me to borrow money. I begged for 1500. After what felt like an era of convincing, she handed me 700. Even though I had no idea how to get back home, I still dashed to the main road and boarded a bus. There in that bus, I looked at myself, at my shoes, and shook my head - maybe in pity for myself, maybe not. On getting to the venue, I met several other smiling interviewees; from the look of things, one could tell that things went well.
When I got to the main interview hall, I was hit with the news that the interviewers were just wrapping up and were done for the day. Of course I wouldn't accept that - I stayed behind and waited for what felt like a complete millennium, only for the security man to tap me and ask me to leave. The interviewers had left. My friend included. With the pride of a man who had fought a good fight to get closer to his goals, I stood up and set out on a journey that felt like a thousand miles.
It is well. By the time I got home, I was visibly shaking. Man dey suffer, sha. Meanwhile, my friend got the job with many other people - he's got a family to take care of and that's a big win for him. Now the journey is a one-man thing. I've spent days that were supposed to be joyful in emotional pain, hunger, and a heavy burden of unfulfillment. It would be easier to resign to fate if a man weren't so ambitious.
I was raised very well by my parents, so I can't be involved in any vice just to meet the basic things of life. Looking in the mirror, I can see how much I am older than my age - with no job, no wife or kids, or any plans for marriage for now; plenty of goals, and no achievements. But it is well.
