I was a normal not-so-happy 19 year old girl with so much hope for a better future and I was quite excited because exams were drawing near (crazy right?)but I wasn't excited about the exams per say, it was more about the fact that after exams, I was supposed to be going for my six months industrial training and that was a good thing because I was going to make some money plus I love being in a work environment and I was looking forward to those six month of meeting new people, being away from home and school, being independent and the thought that after these glorious productive months, I was going to be entering my final year in school after all the delays I had faced due to interruptions caused by school riots and strikes and honestly, I was beginning to get anxious about everything. On the 18th day of March 2020, my world came crashing down right before my eyes. I am not exaggerating! Ok, first, in my school, we hardly ever have electricity or television time but that particular day, we had electricity and I went to my neighbour's house to watch television and catch up with what going on in the world and just then I tuned to CNN and I was met with the most horrible news I ever heard in my lifetime and that was the fast spreading mysterious disease from China, COVID-19. The news particularly said that countries were shutting down schools and worship centres and I knew at that point that this year was going to be the worst after all. On the 20th day of March, my country Nigeria, declared all schools and worship centres closed till further notice and my mum sent for me to come home immediately. This was how it all started. Now, I knew I was going to be at home for a while due to the pandemic so I had to come with a strategy to make my stay at home less traumatic. This was going to be me staying at home 24/7 with my mum. So my approach was to read a lot and just do my chores without being reminded, basically to avoid getting in trouble with my mum. It was going on well, me going about my chores and burying myself in books and my phone just basically avoiding her. Things were looking different in a good way for me; the house was over stocked with food so there was no need to go out. I broke up with my ex whom I dated for 5 years, thing is, I never really loved him and I've never even kissed him because he schools in a different state but he was so good to me and he was crazy about me for some reason I can't still understand so I felt I should date him. After breakup, I started talking to this new guy and he was so cool we were always texting and he recently graduated from my school so he asked me out and in the spur of the moment, I accepted two days after I broke up with my ex. Almost immediately after accepting, I started to feel unsure about my decision because I knew that I didn't love him and he was a good guy, I couldn't afford to hurt him but at the same time, this was the same situation with my ex. Just then, my other ex, (my first sex partner ever, the only guy I literally ever loved but fucked things up because I get scared every time I get too happy because I feel it'll end so soon and I'll be back to being sad and the I'd feel like a fool.) he somehow popped on my phone and we started talking and I realised that I might still have strong feelings for him plus my immediate ex was still begging me to take him back and my boss was also proposing a relationship. At this point, I had to be the most confused person alive considering the fact that I'm not a person that is used to display of emotions and all, so I was kind of just flowing with everyone. Then there was an incident where my neighbour was beating up his wife and everyone was just quiet ignoring but my mum went over to their house and started a fight with the man, he threatened her and they exchanged words. Well of course, through all this, my mum never had a reason to hit us or shout or any of that up until my sister told her that she was lagging behind on her online test and that set my mum off. She started cursing her and shouting at her and hitting her also and my sis, being under attack obviously went for defense but this aggravated the situation all the more and she became physical. Cutting off my sister's natural beautiful hair and my sis wanted to leave at that point, I had to intercede and beg both parties to act reasonably and the whole situation was pacified that day. But from then, it was clash after clash between both of them and I was the middle man which meant me taking most of the punches and once more, we're back to misery. My pandemic experience so far has been horrible and I really can't wait for all this to be over or for the world to end already.

On a cold November morning, after attending an exhilarating youth conference in Strasbourg, I was on a train on my way to Paris. My heartbeat was mimicking the rhythm of the rails. I was only 19 years old and blessed with the opportunity to visit one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Ville des Lumière or ‘the city of lights'. As a young woman from India, raised in a traditional family, most of my choices were made for me. This was my first step into an independent life and it was all very unnerving. An hour into the journey I met a young man who, to my surprise, was also from India. We exchanged life stories as the beautiful French landscapes of freshly cut grass, fauna and wineries painted our windows as they raced by. He invited me for a walking tour in Paris taking place in a few hours, telling me how we would explore the city guided by a tour manager who would narrate to us its dynamic history. Possessing an inherent love of the past, I readily agreed. After reaching Paris I rushed with my heavy suitcase to find the subway and caught the train that lead to my accommodation. Reaching just in time to leave my luggage, I ran back to the street and caught a bus to Saint Michel, where we were supposed to assemble for the tour. On my way, I realized that I was so intent on not being late, I navigated easily through an alien city with a language I didn't speak. A little proud, I smiled at my ability to adapt so quickly to an environment so different from home. Indeed, I was growing up. The tour was very enjoyable as I carefully observed the interiors of Paris painted with flora and Gothic architecture. We were walking along the Seine, the river which holds the spirit of Paris within it, when the sun was engulfed by thick clouds. Soon, I could feel icy droplets of rain on my skin. Each raindrop felt like a sting, reminding me that I was turning twenty soon. We ended the tour in Tuileries Garden, as the sun interrupted the rain, blessing us with its warmth. My friend and I then walked to the Eiffel Tower. Coming from India, a country with a rich heritage, I firmly believe that historic monuments that have witnessed the ravages of war and tranquility of peace are the most precious. They have a story to tell. And so, I always felt that the Eiffel Tower was merely a metallic structure unworthy of praise, much like the French did in earlier times. But I was wrong. The Eiffel Tower emitted magnificence. It was like an anchor of the city, holding it from sinking into the blue skies. We sat on a lonely bench placed on a pavilion just behind the tower, surrounded by green trees slowly rustling in the cold air of the twilight. I was evaluating the photographs I took of the Eiffel on my phone, when my companion reminded me to appreciate the moment I was in. “But we have been here for over an hour” I replied, “there is nothing new to-“ I stopped short in my words as I looked up once again at the majestic tower. It was lit up with a golden light, almost as if with a thousand candles, against the backdrop of the slowly brewing night sky. Suddenly, I could not feel the chill on the tip of my nose or the cold air in my lungs. I felt warm from the glow of the Eiffel, as if someone had tucked me in a cozy blanket with a hot cup of tea. I went to sleep that day feeling like a changed person. On my last day in Paris, I visited the celebrated Louvre. Its high ceilings that housed tremendous artwork made me feel small and insignificant. I visited the intriguing Mona Lisa painting and felt that I could never be as famed as its maker, Leonardo Da Vinci. So what was the point of even trying? The best or worst part about accepting mediocrity was the comfort it provided. I found myself walking once again towards the Tuileries garden behind the Louvre, but this time on a warm sunny day bustling with people and energy. Yet somehow, I was more alone than ever. I felt that independence was equal to isolation. I was walking beside an intricate fountain in the garden, when my melancholic thoughts were interrupted by an old man, just like the sun had interrupted the rain in the very same place on my first day in Paris. The man was in his mid-sixties with grey hair and a thick beard. He muttered something to me in French and grinned. My first instinct was to walk away but his compelling eyes held me back. I looked at him questioningly, signaling to him that I didn't understand French. He happily repeated in English with a thick French accent, “Are you thinking deeply?” I was shocked. He continued, “You should not indulge in your thoughts so deeply, enjoy the present”. He walked away immediately after, but I was transfixed. It was as if God had come to explain to me that the meaning of independence was not isolation, but the pure enjoyment of moments in life you have created for yourself. In those few seconds at the conclusion of my sojourn, I was finally ready to embrace my 20 year old independent self.