To lie in bed and spread both legs to the various cardinal points and yawn while dosing off is cheap.
To close your eyes and dream of your enemies; those from your father’s side chasing you with a sharp machete borrowed by those from your mother’s side is cheap and stupid. To sit, cross legs, in a cubicle somewhere in one of the slums in Port Harcourt, Lagos, Abuja or Aba and dream of spending your entire life in the most stupendous suite at the Burj Al Arab is the cheapest thing I have ever heard. To expect the world to start again and wealth is redistributed and a portion assigned to your family, and as a first child, a greater share is given to you: that is madness. Dreaming is very cheap; any drunkard can pull the stunt. On the other hand, plotting and chasing your dreams is the most difficult task you will ever embark on as a human being.
It is sad that you are a Nigerian youth. You are probably alive. Of course, you are. Isn’t that’s why you are reading this? You have hustled your way through a lot of things. You have made lots of sacrifices. Friends have called you a fowl. Family members have written you off as a retard. Boyfriends and girlfriends have dreamt beyond you. You are a low-lifer. No one wants your smelling butts. Everyone is scared of your poverty, they believe it is contagious, especially yours.
You have trekked to all corners of the earth. You have worked hard. You have skipped meals. No, you haven’t skipped any meal; you have never had a decent meal so you can’t skip what you don’t have. You soak garri daily. You garnish it with groundnuts tied in ten naira packs. You can’t afford sugar to change the taste of the miserable meal. You can’t borrow anymore from your neighbour because you speak a lot of ‘grammar’. He is tired of you correcting his grammars. He is amazed how you know so much ‘correct tenses’ and still live in misery.
Your landlord had visited you last night to warn you of possible mayhem due to refusal to settle him. Your mother, father and siblings have all been sent to the village. The one room apartment has been uneasy for you, buying meals and being pressured. Truthfully, you guys had managed some 20 odd years before now. You are sure you alone can make a change and fix things up and invite all of them back to the city to breathe some fresh air, see electricity, no matter how epileptic it always become.
You skip church services. You are scared of people’s utterances. They always talk. And you always listen. Your shoes are worn out. It is not a new thing. It has been worn out since 15 years. You clothes are dead. They can’t be washed in public. They have holes. They have been over worn. You are not sad. You are quite intelligent. You sure buy books. You sure know how to edit the mad tenses in the soft sell books you see those hustlers hawking. And not to forget, one of the reasons you don’t go to church is the fact that you are too broke to afford your fare there. And when you do, you can’t even put anything in the offering box. You just sit there, and the pastor has never stopped eying you. You had been threatened that your seat would be given to someone more willingly to serve the Lord with the mouth, heart and pocket since you have chosen none. You don’t mind much. All you pray for is a reason to see the next day. You are hopeful. You have some sprits. You have a soul. You have confidence that light will come tomorrow. You are sure that things will change; besides you dream big. A certain book you had bought has such as a title: “Dream Big”.
In Nigeria, a lot of things are realities. But as stated, dreaming is cheap. Anyone can do that. Learn to chase your dreams with your legs and your mind. Learn to sell personal properties in the pursuit of whatsoever you believe in. Learn to carry bricks to get transport fare or a shirt that you would wear to that interview. God has been fair and faithful. There is over 7 billion of your type around the world. If you die, some hundred of younger ones will replace you. If you are as broke as seen, no one will bury you. Your corpse will be thrown into the gutters. If the rains don’t wash you away into eternity, the government will find a miserable piece of land and bury you in a shallow grave. Those bastards you are into rituals may come around one dizzy night, chop off your stupid head, hack your testicles and head to the native doctor who had promised to make them rich. Life is that fair. It not fairer than you can imagine. This world is for those who are ready to sacrifice their lots for what they trust. The land that you are securing for your sons, if they don’t work hard enough, they will go broke, a more fortunate man will buy it, build a brothel on it, camp prostitutes and he will pay to come get laid. Life is that very awesome!
Don’t wait for anyone to help you. No one will. Okay, someone may, but even if they will, they have other responsibilities too. They have hungry relations who want a piece of their wealth. They shouldn’t look at you lest you are too lucky.
I believe we can make it if we learn to dream and sacrifice for it. I was told once by a friend that I should dream and act towards it like no one is there to catch me when I fall. I also plan so that I don’t get disappointed. I try not to give people that much privilege.
We can, if we wish.