I was born barefoot on a jagged rock in a black land with black men. I was born in Nigeria. That's my country. Like the production of a film, each scene is influenced by the actors and ah yes, setting as well. My movie is not any different, or unique in any way. Except that to see the face of each actor, you would have to go behind the scenes, where we were unfurled and free, basking in the consciousness of life and existence. I am no baby or child or boy or man. I'm just a little voice crying in the wilderness, telling of what we have seen, shouting our experience. I am only human. When I and the boys were born, mother bought us no diapers or wipes like the other kids from tomorrow. We were settled with loincloths that would be removed when soiled, to be washed and worn again. We never slept in the rocking cot or stood in the walking trainers. So we had to crawl on fours till our feet were strong enough to walk us. And yes we would fall. Big, heavy falls and yes we would stand up with tears, and we would walk again. When I and the boys were younger. We were bought no toys or action figures like the kids from yesterday. We had to settle for sticks and fingers and stones and rocks. Coming home each day with a bruise or two. Wailing out loud to mother who would bathe and clean our wounds and send us out to bring in some more again. We had no tasty food or snacks or sweets so we would go to Mr. Bello's store, and buy some with our snatch and speed. And his belt would smile at us. And the welts on our backs would tell us that we did the right thing. When the mobile phone came around, I mean within our reach. I and the boys would go to the home of the only boy who had one, and we would sit around him, our eyes fixated upon the wonder in his palm. He would press some buttons and we would see a little man in green fighting against another in blue. He would press some more buttons and we would witness the lady with the white skin take off her clothes, and walk around in her birthday suit and a man would come around, dressed in the same attire. And they would do things together that would spread warm smiles on our faces. When I and the boys were older, we loved em female girls. The ones who would let us take off their dresses, and do things when mother wasn't home. We each had a girl, special to each of us. And things were rough. Yesterday I cried over Maria, as she called at night and told me she was no longer my girl and how she let one of the other boys from tomorrow take off her dress. He gave her money she said. What have I ever given her? I bit on my lip as the tears flowed. Yes, I cried. And tomorrow, I will cry again over Marianne or Sophia. Yesterday, Maestro died. He was felled with bullets by some of the other boys from yesterday. The streets are not too safe, especially for me and the boys. His mother cried so much, deep tears of anguish and resentment. We didn't cry for Maestro, but we may cry for Aluta or Robin or me when we fall tomorrow. I and the boys met social media about a year ago. He introduced himself to us and he was all warm and smiling. But now he seems to bite us in the back with sharp teeth, the earlier friendliness seems all forgotten. He's very scheming. Knows how to cause much havoc, especially amongst me and the boys. I enjoy him sometimes. Most times I would say. He even killed a girl last summer, when he showed everyone her pictures of her hidden regions. I never saw her after that. We all never did. I and the boys take some drinks. It keeps us happy, makes us feel better, makes us forget, all the worries and pains. Fredrick would say with some smoke in his lungs "I like to get high, cos I love the view from up here." And we would all laugh and drink some more. Grades at school don't matter to me and the boys. But it matters much to our parents, so we try to get some good ones, or at least okay ones. Fashion matters a lot, the latest Sneakers, coolest jeans and shirts. The girls love the guys who look good. So we try to keep up with the trend. That's what happened in that scene of my movie and more which you would learn of from others like me. That's what happened when I had hopped aboard older ship. Do you like my movie yet? Maybe you do, maybe you don't. Just stick around and watch some more. Maybe you will see some Experience. When I and the boys are dead, we would pass just like the rest. We made no impact, struck no blow on this generation. That's what some time behind some bars taught me, that's what he told me through the silence and solitude. So now I change. The boys are gone now. It's just me. Now I teach, the little tots. Guide them right, lecture them of good. Let's see what their generation creates. Mine is already fading fast away, as dust in the wind.

My home is known as a little country. It's so small that you usually get problem while trying to find it on a map. People say they never heard of it. They say people from my country cannot be what they want because they live in poor or because little country is underdeveloped. Well, I live in a beautiful country, with big lakes, long rivers, high mountains and strong people. But, in this twentieth year of twenty first century something changed and is still changing my view. This is the first time that someone came in my world, my environment, that I don't want to be friend with. This is the first time that someone came into my world, my city, and became that popular, but introduced itself just after killing so many people. Now it's around us. In our neighbourhood, our stores. It is all around us. In our air, knocks on our doors. That is our new passenger, it walks and it breathes. That passenger wants you, not your things. First time i heard how its' name, I thought it was a big joke. It got born in China. There are dead in China, there are surviving in China. It came to Italy and swam in the sea. Now it is in France and it tried their food. After while it drank coffee in Serbia, it flew over many countries and then. Corona virus is here. It was Tuesday, many portals, web sites, pages, news said that the next two weeks we have no school. To be honest, I was really happy because, the next day I would have math exam. In the first place, it wasn't that scary. The only problem I had was my brother. He was in Italy as a student and hung out with some people who had a flew at that time. On his birthday, he got a fever, high temperature, throat pain. My mom freaked out. My dad, who usually does not show his emotions, was really scared and dispirited. I have to brag that I also got a hug from him after a long time. One morning we got the call, brother does not have a virus. You can say you do not care because it is not close to you. You can try and maybe pray, there is nothing else what you can do. We are here, now we are in a fight, this passenger kills all day and night. Four months before my brother will come home, I had to decide what to do with the time that is given to me. Two weeks I was isolated, I was at home, just reading books and listening to some music. Of course I had online school, which was insane. Many times I had exams on my computer and I would be stressed out . Dad was going to work with mask and glows. Mom can get sick fast so, she did not go out. They were mostly scared about their son, even if he does not have a virus he is there and we are here. When school finished, I passed with great grades. My fitness coach has said that we should make a pause. I can not function without my trainings. With time, sunny days came and at least three times at week I went on six-kilometres-long trail with hills. I have my own workout routine, with my own list of songs.The passenger is still here, maybe could not buy a ticket to go home. Where is its' home, here is not its' place but, I think it does not know. Humans are still awake, we want to ask you to go, that is all we want to say. Huge windows in my apartment are really there for a reason. I exercise my eyes through them. I can see the main street, people with masks, kids, thirsty dogs and a lot of cars. One day I went with my dad to the store. We wanted to buy a bottle of oil. While we were waiting, there was a family with bags of two hundred kilos of flour. It was really strange but at least funny. We still have a lot of flour bags at home. Usually I am not drinking any juices, but somehow I stopped with sweets and bread. I read many books and have started with the music I listened before. Lyrics of their songs are amazing. I watched many films too, I am a huge filmochobic. Love for writing have never left me. Actually, during quarantine, I opened up my heart more and, even if I was in between „four walls“ my eyes saw more than before. I realised that I do not need to travel the world to see a miracle, I need to find one place, one person, one song or maybe one book to feel a miracle. Since I was ten I have been writing songs, but this year I started with English songs. Passenger still walks through our city, probably it likes it. Maybe melody should visit us and help. We need the real words to destroy it, not dog's yelp. So, my home is still known as a little country. I still have my name, my home and family. My eyes are with me too. My hands did not betray me, I write even more. Imagination is my best friend. I am truly sorry for everyone who lost someone in this time. . We can use this time to live, sometimes maybe smile. We can use this time to think, maybe stay on someone's side. This passenger does not want to go. I am pretty sure it stayed with us for too long, but we will outsmart it. We are persistent and strong.

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.

After about a month of walking laps around my dining room table trying to work off the energy that had been built up my parents finally banished me, a water bottle, and a mask to the outside world until I had worked off enough energy to sit still. It started by going up a path that I used to take with my brothers when none of us could stand being trapped inside for a second longer, the memories around the path seemed to fit the way I felt so it didn't feel like a jump. But then there was an open gate to another path, one I had been warned to not go down since you could never be quite sure what people were down there. But I felt confident that I would be the only person on this walking path at one o'clock on a tuesday afternoon in 95 degree heat so I turned toward it. My guess toward who'd be there or lack thereof was correct as the only other living creatures I saw on my three hour long walk were the birds flying overhead and the ducks floating in the runoff of the rain storms we'd been having. It was the first sense of peace that had come over my body since the term Coronavirus had come over the news as a new flu going around in China. So I kept walking for as long as I could doing my best to hold onto the peace that I had been so desperately searching for for the last months. Movement became my escape in a way that it hadn't been since I was a small child who had been told to run laps around the field so I could sit still in class. So everyday after that I laced up my beaten down boots and no matter how unbearably hot it was I forced myself to walk. Forced myself into the one thing that would calm my racing heart.

I wonder if one can actually sense the beginning of his end. Death. Manifest to mankind yet veiled when it arrives. For three days my grandfather had complained of a tightness in his chest. The fourth day there were no complains. That night he passed away quietly in his sleep. I remember how he'd take my hand and place it on his chest, directly above his heart saying, “it's like someone's standing right here". The rhythmic beat would feel just fine. To this day I wonder what had made him go quiet the day before his demise. Had he known? Could he feel it? The soul slowly gliding out of his body leaving it stone cold or was he asleep all long? I wish he had known no fear. People say there are five stages of grief- denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally, acceptance. My grandmother had only known the fourth. The news had left her in tatters. She was torn from the inside. Every day she'd go visit grandfather's grave, shower it with rose petals and come back enveloped in a new layer of gloom. Talking to her only worsened her pain so we thought it would be better to just let her be. Time passed gradually. It is July 19th. My grandparents could've been celebrating their 56th anniversary just like they always did in the backyard with all twenty five of my cousins and their parents. We'd set up a long wooden table and decorate it with huge sunflowers that we plucked from Mrs.Faizan's garden who lived next door. She despised the action otherwise but allowed us just for the sake of her friend's anniversary. The women of the family would fill the table to its corners with delicacies brought from their homes. We'd sing songs and recall moments that would leave us laughing so hard that it felt our sides would split. The sun would leave us burnt by the end of the day but we couldn't care less for happiness would swallow every other feeling. I wonder if we will feel the same way we did back in those days. Someday, maybe. Today, replacing the table is the bed my grandparents once shared. My sister and I carefully bring out the mattress and set it over the wooden frame. Following it, we spread on the mattress the finest bed spread we own -blue Egyptian silk with yellow flowers marking the borders. I place two big pillows at an angle against the headboard. One of them has sunk inside due to excess use, the other one seems fine. Next, we place a comforter at the foot of the bed careful enough to straighten out every single wrinkle. The bed is placed in the exact middle of the backyard underneath the sky which resembles a canvas painted ink blue. Speckled throughout the blue eternity are innumerable stars. One of them is strangely big and bright. My grandmother swears it appeared the night her husband left her. I avert my gaze from the sky and look towards the door where my grandmother has just appeared. She looks small and fragile in her ankle length night gown which clings loosely to her bony frame. Her hair hangs in loose curls that are gently moving with the wind. Etched on her face is an expression unreadable. But I believe she's happy. That she has reached the final stage of grief. I walk towards her, grab hold of her arm, and lead her towards the bed. Carefully, she gets on top and lies down closing her eyes the instant her head hits the pillow. I notice her lips that have curled into a tiny smile. Out of the corner of her eye falls a small tear that surfs over her temple and gets absorbed into the cotton underneath. She sighs and rolls over. Tonight, on her 56th wedding anniversary, my grandmother wants to sleep under the brightest star.

You know growing up nowadays the technology is excessive, most people my age enjoy abbreviating words, creating acronyms and all that. Every now and then a new acronym is created and if you do not know it you are backward and often asked what century u r living in. Yes, technology is beautiful and new things are nice always and we are enticed by them but with all the emoji's and acronyms that are always brought up here and there I find it hard to connect with the next person like I used to do back in the days of texting and writing letters. Someone would think I am too backward but kids nowadays will never know the value of a simple letter writing and receiving the letter a few days later and the effect it had on you. Whenever we used to write to each other one would try to make sure the other person gets a clear picture of what the writer was going through and all that one was thinking about. This made us connect on a whole new level. This made us understand each other more than nowadays. I am a very sentimental person and I love chatting and getting to know the next person and it means more to me if I can connect with that person on a whole new level and get to understand each other. But alas, texting has been replaced with acronyms and emojis, translation gets lost in-between. You find yourself wondering what the respective emoji or acronym is supposed to mean and with my generation not wanting to look less cool and slow I end up giving it my own translation and the conversation goes on. Ever asked yourself what you were doing? Most of this generation and the generations that follow are depressed and feel lonely because even when you are trying to communicate with the next person translation is lost and the next person at the other end of the phone does not get to understand you and at the end of the day all you feel is emptiness and you got nothing to feel that void because you are not really writing down what you are feeling or what you are going through. You are trying to express your emotions using emojis or acronyms that really cannot get the real emotion across, the real meaning across. Many a times have I found myself in a meaningless relationship cause when we are texting we both threw in messages that we even could not really understand. If I write deeply I am laughed at and the guy will jokingly say ‘don't be too serious girl, chill'. But it is through all this chilling that we find ourselves in meaningless relationships. It is through this chill that we find ourselves questioning the whole concept of dating and being with someone. This is because when that person is not there we do not want to look too serious to be writing down long meaningful messages so that the other person gets to understand what is happening. My friends do not even know the real me because even my speaking is like the way I text. Instead of laughing I find myself using lol. You begin to wonder when you lost that beautiful laugh and replaced it with lol. The way I am texting starts taking over even my whole day. Even when at home I do not know how to communicate with my parents because along the way, long meaningful messages lost its value in my life just like when I was texting with my friends and lovers and any new person within my life. Real connection is lost, real love and bond is lost . We should start teaching ourselves and our family to start to learn to communicate beyond the acronyms and the emojis. I feel we should learn to communicate more in our texts rather than just talking. Communication means the message you wanted to send across is received and well understood and was not lost in translation. What we practice in our hidden spots normally reflect on our day to day living as the less u communicate when texting will eventually be the way you even communicate in your day to day living. Now we are all stuck at home, and social media is at large. Besides a simple good morning or afternoon or evening as a family we rarely talk. We find ourselves stuck in our rooms with the uncapped wifi doing God knows what. You do not have time to listen to the person in the next room because you are busy on social media. We no longer sit down as a family to share a meal. We have lost the value of a family. This period of lock down is the moment you realize that all these relationships were a lie, the bond that held you together was so fragile. I for one got dumped because we could not even keep a conversation going for days. Why is that? We deceived ourselves with the live in the moment vibes and the "don't be too serious" vibes to the extent that we lost the value of chatting and our connection was not that solid. So it got me to think why are we scared of being real? Why are scared of getting our real thoughts out there? We end up being lonely cause we scared of expressing ourselves especially on these social media platforms.

​''The best things in life are free, But you can give them to the birds and bees, I want money, That's what I want, That's what I want.'' In 1959, these words were written by Barrett Strong in a song called "Money”. Since before the dawn of time there has been exposure to many questions dealing with life, but the cliché question is Can money buy happiness? Happiness is not the amount of money one accumulates , it's the state of being at peace with yourself. Speaking from matters of personal experience, I find myself most content when I have money in my pocket , but It will never come up in my calculation of happiness . Happiness come from with in , money just helps bring it out . ​We all want to have money but also we hear the saying ”money is the root of all evil”. In my life I have learned to make sure I control the money and don't let it control me. For example, we all have to make money to support our families, but it's our job to support ourselves. Before you can make anything around you happen , you have to first make it happen for yourself . Once you have accumulated the financial support needed to fund your “idea” you must now find the balance . Don't just think of balance as a state of equilibrium, but look at it as a necessity to self-righteousness. There are many things that people do to keep them at a balanced state, rather its jogging, cooking, reading or making music , having that distraction time brings you to a place of happiness. Being happy isn't just a smile , it's a state of mind . Anytime your mind veers from the balance it only drives you to do more of one thing than the other . For instance , let's say air and water were the 2 elements on your life balance scale , and you never found that median. As we know, you now have more air ,but not enough water . Some people would look at the situation and say “well at least I do have a little bit of water, I'll just make this last” , while others would probably say “well air is the most important so ima just focus on that an get water when I can”. These don't sound like bad thought processes but Look at it like this: Knowing that you need both air to breathe and water to use , you should never want to take from one to hurt the other . Instead you should find the balance. Find a cycle that replenishes both of your elements and stick with it . Same for money and happiness . We need money to survive and happiness is the will of the way . Once you show a person the balance between the two they will no longer feel like they have to be a slave to the money or the Sucker to emotions . If you do what you love and you love what you do your happiness will flourish where ever you go . So the next time you hear the question “Can money buy happiness? “ you can respond and say “I'm already at peace.”