Issue 20: But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.
In August, I travelled to Togo, and then to Benin Republic. While I was in Lome, it became clear to me that I couldn't survive for long in Lagos. Lagos with its estimated 15.9million people walking around with sweaty bodies and brown shoes. Yaba with young souls and energetic spirits buying shawarma at 10pm and driving one way on two lanes. Ikeja with bipolar disorder: Ikeja Inside with peace and serenity, and constant power supply and that feeling of “It’s cos it’s closer to Government House.” - But Ikeja itself - Ikeja Outside? Chaos. Computer Village with half of the 15.9million people walking in and out the various entrances, buying iPhones worth hundreds of thousands each - in this economy. Oshodi…Oshodi is a world of its own. And then you cross over the body of water to the Island and what do you see again? People. So many people.
On our way back from the road trip in August, we could sense Nigeria the moment we crossed the border. The roads, the uniformed men stopping and searching. Then as we got to Badagry and left the outskirts - the yellow buses. Lagos is a place of commotion. You can’t deny it. No one can.
Since that trip, I haven’t travelled anywhere really. I’ve been stuck in this city of chaos. But even worse than the external trouble that I experience daily was the internal one I’ve been battling for the past months. I’ll explain.
There are certain things that are pointers to how well I’m faring. They are like metrics to show how happy I am or otherwise. One of them is photography. I take pictures of everything near me. The trees. My desk. Food. My friends. Anything really. I love taking pictures. In October and November, I barely took any pictures. The reason was not so hard to decipher. I was so busy and so overwhelmed with life I barely noticed that I no longer did the things that gave me joy. Another pointer for me: reading. In those two months, I could barely finish three books. Can you imagine that? With all my I read a lot tagline, I couldn’t finish three books in sixty days.
"If we want to be nice, we can say, 'Oh, you were busy working. That’s understandable.' However, I wasn't exactly busy working. You see, I figured out a long time ago how to read even with the busiest schedules. I listen to audiobooks while doing my chores, read in the first few minutes after I wake up, and read before I sleep. There’s only one thing that can make me miss this routine: chaos and maddening anxiety."
I have an interesting form of anxiety. I don’t have panic attacks or lose my composure when I’m anxious. I am often calm and collected when I’m anxious. However, there are subtle signs. I won’t be able to focus on one thing for long because I’ll fear that I’m missing out on something else. I’ll be living in constant fear—waking up and sleeping with it. When I’m in a room with people, I’ll smile and be collected. If someone speaks to me, I’ll respond calmly and speak slowly. I never speak slowly. I speak very fast. But with anxiety, I’m talking like the sloth in Zootopia. I process and over-process every single thing. I take longer walks not to destress but just to find distractions that never last. This state persisted for months and there were pointers: no pictures, no reading, no writing. To keep the weak flame of creativity alive, I started documenting my life on Instagram in the form of weekly dumps. I loved doing that. I’ll still get back to that.
I haven’t found any solutions to the maddening anxiety but I figured out what I need to do to reduce it and make it almost nonexistent.
In Haruki Murakami’s 1Q84, the dowager said to Aomame: “But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.” I know this quote like the back of my hand. In my edition of the novel, it’s on page 275 and if you check, you’ll see that I’ve highlighted it and put a tag there so I never forget. Such is the power of this quote that more than a year after I’ve read the novel, I still remember the quote.
Some months ago, this quote developed a new meaning for me. In fact, I can go as far as to say, it gave me a new purpose. Before now, I was always scared that what I feared the most would come to pass. I let the maddening anxiety take over me. I saw it coming and I only dreaded the day it would engulf me. I knew there was nothing I could do if what I feared the most happened. I would be sad, broken and unstable for months, if not years. It would be a difficult spot to bounce back from. And for months, all I did was panic and get scared. I clearly remember the 5th of September. That evening, I was walking the streets of Ikeja GRA, just crying terribly. I was so done, so tired, so broken, so scared, so anxious. A canvas has been placed in front of me and the Dali has painted a grotesque version of me: sapped eyes, droopy cheeks, long broken nose, grey scanty hair, neck folding over, hands weak and veiny. I saw a version of me I did not like, a version of me that scared me so much I could not go home immediately after work that evening. I took long walks. That same evening, my friend Simi called me to talk about something something data. I was so tired the advice I gave was so straight-to-the-point that she asked, “Are you okay?” I said, “Not really but I can’t talk about it now.”
That night, I decided to actually not “simply sit and stare at my wounds forever.” I knew what I had to do to turn my life around. It was scary, the thought of it alone because what if I fail?
The delusional beauty of doing nothing is that, you can’t fail. You never get to fail and with that, there is a faux satisfaction in the fact that, at least no one can say you failed at anything.
All I had ever done with my problem was to complain and complain and complain since the beginning of the year. In September, I decided to add one thing to my complaints: action. So I kept complaining but also started working towards what looked like peace.
Four months down the line, I am in a much better place. Few of my problems are still alive and kicking but at least, I no longer wake up with the trembling fear that something may have happened during the night that will destroy my entire week. I no longer walk around in fear or worry. I can now sleep and wake up the next day and start my day properly. There’s only one reason for this: my problems are alive and kicking but I’m also alive and working hard to make sure they disappear. I know it must sound cliche at this point but really if you’re going through a mess, take your time and complain all you want - I recommend that. But don’t stop complaining; start taking action while you complain. So do both. Cry your heart out but get home and dust your resume.
Remember, we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.
I’ll leave you with a quote from the essay of the week: If you feel exhausted, it's not necessarily because there's something wrong with you. Maybe you're just running fast.
This week, I’m recommending Paul Graham’s essay titled, Is It Worth It Being Wise. I should warn you that this is a long and a bit complex read. You may read a line three times and still not understand what Paul is saying. Just ignore that line and move on. The goal is to get the central idea of the essay, not to break down every single line like we did in English class.
Read Paul Grahams’s “Is It Worth It Being Wise” here.
It’s been a while I published anything here but I’m back now - I think. So if you enjoyed this, share with your friends. Ask them to read and subscribe. Make them fall in love with the writing. Discuss it together. Have fun with this really. Enjoy!
See you in the next one!
PS: Leave a comment so I know what you think.
Thanks to Mmesoma Anaka and Israel Adetunji for reading drafts of this issue.
Well done Ini, thank you for sharing this! Sometimes we sit with the anxieties and the “overwhelmingness” of life, sometimes we get up and do something about it, the later, whenever possible, takes us to new vistas of possibilities 🌻
I loved this so much not only because of how well-written it is but because of how much I could relate to it. For the longest time, I've been so exhausted and drained by this city and this validates that I'm not crazy for feeling that way when almost everybody else loves Lagos so much. So thank you for that.
And thank you for sharing that quote. It reads so simple but it's also very powerful. I’m sure that I’ll be referring to it very often.