Lost. HoL 169

-

Humans of Lagos

"I got an opportunity to leave the village for Lagos early in my life. I saw it as a road to the greener pasture. I left my friends, abandoned my parents, and I broke up with my girlfriend.

I thought Lagos was a land flowing with milk and honey. Literally. The man that brought me to Lagos never told me the reality of the land. He only assured me that "Lagos is a land of opportunity."

I was not prepared for any opportunity, but I believed that an opportunity would find me.

Sixteen years later, my life is as stagnant as a lake.

When my parents died a few months ago, I visited the village and I became overwhelmed with sadness upon my arrival.

My friends have progressed in their local endeavours, my ex-girlfriend is now a married woman who could hardly remember me or our dramatic breakup. I might not have existed.

Imagine. I reside in the "mega city" but my success is mega shallow while the place I left behind thrives.

I wish I can return to the village. But the thing is, even if I do go back, I won't fit in. I no longer belong.

© FERT, 2019

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Clocked People

-
Image
Two worlds collide: the realm of moral absolutes and the domain of worldly pragmatism. We're taught to uphold the sacred tenets of righteousness, yet the whispers of innovation and progress beckon from the shadows of societal values. There are the '12 o'clock' purists, bred to prioritize virtue above all else. Their unwavering commitment to morality often renders them aloof, isolated from the pulsating rhythm of the world. On the opposite end, the '6:30' free spirits dance to the beat of unbridled social liberty, morality cast aside like a forgotten relic. But what of those who dwell at the zenith of balance, the '6 o'clock' harmonizers? They walk the tightrope between righteousness and pragmatism, intuitively sensing when to yield to virtue and when to indulge in life's sweet temptations. In this delicate plain, balance is key. The art of knowing when to be good and when to be bad – not for the sake of rebellion, but for the beauty of harmony. F...
Read more

Things Will Happen

-
Image
 Each dawn, I rise, driven by the fire within, Taught that idle hands reap only barren wind. I strive for excellence, my heart's relentless quest, Yet, like a pin dropped in the ocean's vast unrest. Results fade, like ripples on the waves above, "Not my day," I whisper, solace in self-love. My stomach growls, hunger's persistent call, My heart echoes, yearning for success's thrall. But today, a glimmer, rays of light ascend, My toil, soon crowned with triumph's sweet end. I'm alive! We rise, we fall, yet still we stand, Now, I ascend, my spirit, unbroken hand. For every drought, a harvest awaits, Every night, a dawn that breaks. There are decades where nothing happens, And there are weeks where decades happen. © FERT, 2024
Read more

Don't Die...

-
Image
Don't die, Change form. Amidst the rubble, Where once stood strong foundations, Now lie the remnants of what was. Shackles bind tight, The weight of struggles heavy, And the fire's fierce rampage, Threatens to consume all. Yet, in this crucible of chaos, I live. From the depths of darkness, The beauty of light begins to emerge. A delicate glow, Growing brighter, Illuminating the path ahead. I rise, Stronger with each passing moment, As resilient as the break of day, And as unwavering as the constant sunshine. The trials do not define my end, But mark the beginning of my transformation. Through the storms and the strife, Through the trials that test my spirit, I find my strength, I find my truth. I don't merely survive, I transcend. I evolve. In every ending, a new beginning unfolds. In every fall, the seeds of rise are sown. I am not defeated, I am reborn, Renewed, Reformed, And ever forward, I evolve. © FERT, 2024
Read more