‘Sad’ is an understatement, ‘Miserable’ is a befitting description of how I am feeling. The mandatory Isolation and general restrictions of the past weeks has me wallowing in self-pity. ‘I have to do more. I have to be more.’ I picked up my pen…
Dear diary, Day whatever of Isolation, I feel miserable and I can’t seem to find my way. Im Helpless, underutilized and pained. My expectations fail me, and I’m struggling to keep my head above water.
It’s imperative to be able to remind ourselves in the midst of all these chaos that ‘All must be well, All is well, and All will be well’….. Mum walked into my room. I quickly slipped the diary under my pillow. “I need you to iron my work uniforms for me before NEPA takes light” She ordered. All health workers and medical practitioners are still very much on duty.
“Yes ma” I reluctantly agreed, wishing the power holding company would be nice and seize power at that moment; I wasn’t in the best of moods.
I got off the bed to sort the work-uniforms for ironing. “Zion!!” My mum yelled. “Ma” I responded calmly, trying not to show my irritation that her voice was loud enough for the whole street to hear. “This is me ma” I added as I entered her room. The Yoruba language demanded courtesy in every statement.
If you are conversing with an adult, there has to be a word denoting respect in everything you say. Hence, the ‘Ma’. “Bring out the turkey and fish from the freezer. Season them properly, and blend the pepper, we need to cook them for Easter” I listened attentively. “Ok ma,” I said, turning to leave… “Don’t go yet please?” She said again. I was almost going nuts but I kept my cool.
“Please help me change these bed-sheets and I need Mtn card, 1500.” God, You didn’t tell me that it’s today I will run mad o, so definitely, I would survive. “Can’t you do it online?”
“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with First bank’s internet today”
“Alright ma. Is that all ma ?” I asked her, hiding my sarcasm that it had better be all because I no be machine.
“Yes, that’s all dear if there’s anything else I’ll let you know”. She said smiling as she continued playing Zuma on her phone. She made me hate the game sef. Mum could spend hours playing Zuma, and whenever she was at it, the world would cease to exist,except she wanted to issue unnecessary errands.
Errands that included getting her the tv remote that sat right in front of her. “Ok ma” I replied for the umpteenth time and went to her wardrobe to get clean bed sheets. Luck shone on me, NEPA seized the light. My joy was indescribable. “Hope you’ve ironed the uniforms?” Mum asked. Excuse me, madam, how would I have managed to do that o.
“No ma” I dare not say what was right on my mind. “What have you been doing since?” Her voice grew louder. ‘Well I’ve been here listening to you, and since I’m not The Flash or Dr Strange, I can’t do multiple things at a time. Plus this is not my ideal definition of ‘Multi-tasking’. Trust me, I couldn’t say it out loud. I only murmured it in my head. “I’m sorry ma. You called me for some other things ma”.
She was saying something, I was no longer listening. My palms were sweaty, my head was spinning, I faded into a zone only I was familiar with.
I hate this isolation, I hate being handicapped and restricted. We all had high hopes for 2020 and if we remain consistent and unwavering, we would still get it, achieving every single one of them. But this, this slow motion, this uncertainty, will drive some to suicide, some into depression, some would lose hope, and the steadfast minority will break boundaries. “Im sorry ma” I finally said.
”Won’t you give me gala and hollandia?” I asked. My mum stocked up junk foods in her room, she had passed my brother and I a memo to also stock up before the lockdown—we spent the money on something else. Sadly.
”No” She said bluntly and went back to her game.
So much for love thy neighbor as thyself
All must be well. All is well. All will be well’.