Today

I am not drifting today. I seem to have a tenuous grip on things as they are. I know who I am at the moment, but I am not quite sure who I am supposed to be. I am a young Nigerian man, living and working in Kigali, Rwanda - on one of those development technical assistance programs.

What should I muse about today. Should I muse about being a Nigerian in this sad, funny world? Rage against the system and the politics and the pride and the shame and the disappointment and the cruel, cruel hope that leads to more disappointment and more hope in the vicious cycle that I hope will break before I quench. But that is not fun.

Should I indulge again in my favourite drug - melancholy, and wander a little along the emotional corridors of my past? I do that a lot. Even when I'm not indulging, I cannot escape the melancholia that follows me about like a pesky, unwanted friend. Always turning up, always present and who by virtue of alwaysbeingthereness becomes your best and most familiar friend.

Or maybe today I will be happy. Share my happy places in the hope that I would be surrounded by its reflections and in doing so increase my happiness in multiple folds. But then again, Dear Reader... I am afraid. Afraid of letting you into my secret places...letting you into places no woman (or man) has gone before.

At any rate, I am late for a meeting... Catch y'all later.

I gotta go.

Peace to the Middle East