Oh, the helplessness. The restlessness and the constant need to show off, to impress people, to prove something, while you are slowly dying inside.

An unexplainable pain surges from your chest and spreads through your body like poison, and you wonder, Why am I so angry? Why am I constantly in pain?

All of a sudden, you create your own version of hope, one that eventually drags others into the deep void of hopelessness.

You go to sleep numb and wake up with that feeling of hopelessness, staring at the empty ceiling.

You wonder, Why am I living? Why was I born in the first place? Does it get better? Will all of this hopelessness ever stop? Will this darkness ever fade away?

And then the sinister thought crosses your mind:

Maybe I should just end it all.

Maybe I wasn't useful all along.

And I wonder: how do people genuinely smile like the sun rises and sets on their faces?

How do they get to have endless hope and the zeal to live again?

If I could get a glimpse of their hope, I'm going to hold on to it for dear life.

The human mind is a strange place. It can be full of noise and yet feel empty. It can search for meaning in everything and still feel like nothing makes sense.

And perhaps this is why the human mind is hopeless without God.

The void will eventually be filled if we accept the Light and the Zoe kind of life.

But I guess sometimes, we are not ready to face the truth.

So, until then, we continue to wallow in the darkness, searching for something to fill a void that only God can truly fill.

She looked in the mirror. All she could see was her reflection.

She wondered why her classmate had called her ugly.

Growing up, she had always felt loved at home. No one had ever made her feel ugly. No one had ever spoken to her that way. So why should one person's words suddenly change the way she saw herself?

She looked at her reflection again.

“I will never let anyone bully me into feeling like I am ugly,” she told herself.

The next day, she walked into her classroom with her head held high, unshaken and confident, ready to face anyone who dared to make her feel less than she was.

Cars filled the Kubwa Expressway. I even saw a Hilux carrying people in its open back. Everywhere was busy, just as it always is. Life was moving.

It made me realise something: time waits for no one.

Will you put your life on hold because of one difficult season? Will you stop moving because the conditions are not perfect? The world won't pause. People will keep going. Opportunities will keep passing.

Our parents are no longer as young as they used to be. The fine lines on their faces and the grey hairs in their heads tell a story. And if we're honest, we're not as young as we were five or ten years ago either.

Time keeps moving, whether we're ready or not.

So wake up. Walk with time. Don't wait for the perfect moment, because it may never come.

Move with purpose, or risk being left behind, hoping for another chance that may never arrive.

Solomon had wealth beyond measure, unmatched wisdom, honour, influence, achievements, and every pleasure most people spend a lifetime chasing. Yet, after experiencing it all, his conclusion was startling: "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity."

Perhaps that's the lesson. The things we often believe will satisfy us—success, wealth, status, possessions, and even accomplishments—cannot give lasting fulfilment when they become life's ultimate pursuit.

Ecclesiastes isn't condemning success; it's reminding us that without God, even the greatest achievements eventually feel empty. The book invites us to look beyond what fades and invest in what is eternal.

"So because purple is my favourite colour as a guy now, I'm gay???

ODE!!!

In fact, 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜"

I laughed at the "ODE!!!", but it also made me think.

How did we get to a point where someone's favourite colour is enough for people to question their identity?

Who made that rule?

For any society to function effectively, there have to be values, morals, and laws that help maintain order. Those are necessary.

However, somewhere along the line, we began replacing principles with personal preferences and labelling them as standards.

Who set the standard that an iPhone is a symbol of success and that using an Android means you're struggling?

Who set the standard that wearing your natural hair means you're broke, while wigs or expensive braids are the definition of beauty?

Who set the standard that fair skin is more beautiful than dark skin?

Who set the standard that looking rich matters more than actually being financially stable?

Who set the standard that speaking English with a foreign accent is superior to speaking it clearly and confidently?

Who set the standard that beauty requires heels, even when they're uncomfortable?

Who set the standard that refusing alcohol at a gathering means you're "spoiling the fun"?

Who set the standard that everyone must agree with certain ideologies, even when they contradict their personal beliefs?

Who set the standard that everyone must think the same way, possess the same level of intelligence, or enjoy the same kind of content?

Who set the standard that wearing little or no makeup makes someone less classy or less "tush"?

Many of the standards we chase today were never universal truths. They are often social expectations created by trends, culture, marketing, peer pressure, or the opinions of a few people that somehow became the norm.

Maybe it's time we stopped asking, "How do I fit in?" and start asking, "Does this align with my values?"

Some standards are worth challenging, and some are worth abandoning altogether.

Sometimes I ask myself why I held on for so long, even when the signs were there. Deep down, I knew where it was heading, yet I kept hoping things would change.

I still silently grieve the friendship every time it crosses my mind. Then I remind myself why it all went silent in the first place.

I've come to accept that some friendships are only meant for a season, not because they were bad, but because time changes everything it touches. People grow. Paths change. Not every connection is meant to last forever.

Walking away wasn't giving up. It was choosing peace and silence over pretending. It was accepting what I'd been trying so hard not to see.

I'll always appreciate what the friendship once was. It taught me lessons, gave me memories, and, for a time, gave me a place to belong. But I've made peace with what it became.

Some endings don't come with slammed doors or final conversations. They arrive quietly, one unanswered message, one unmet effort, one growing distance at a time, until silence says everything words no longer can.

And I'm never going back.

The restaurant buzzed with noise as plates clinked against tables, soft music played in the background, and different conversations overlapped from every corner of the room, while people spoke excitedly about school, opportunities, relationships, and future plans that suddenly made adulthood feel closer and more real than ever before.

Some of her classmates were already in the university, a few had secured scholarships, and others talked excitedly about campus life, lecture halls, new environments, and all the experiences that came with finally moving into the next phase of life, while Zenobi sat there smiling and contributing to conversations like everyone else, even though something deep inside her felt unsettled.

After failing JAMB twice, she was already approaching nineteen without admission, and although nobody directly mocked her for it, she could not stop comparing herself to everyone around her because somehow it felt like life was gradually moving forward for everybody except her.

The conversation slowly became heated when they began discussing life expectations and the pressure young people constantly faced, as Laraba complained about the pressure she received from home almost every day, Ayuba admitted he was scared of falling behind in life, and Eliana mentioned how social media had turned life into one endless competition where everybody constantly felt the need to prove that they were progressing.

Then almost unconsciously, Zenobi spoke.

"I just feel like time is moving too fast, like if certain things don't happen now, everything might scatter later."

For a brief moment, the table became unusually quiet.

Then Bassey looked at her.

Bassey always talked like an old soul, and sometimes the things he said sounded simple at first, but later they stayed in your mind far longer than expected because there was always something strangely honest hidden inside them.

He leaned back slightly before saying:

"Zenobi, chill. Life is not pursuing you. You need to learn how to live here and now."

A few people laughed softly after he said it, and even Zenobi smiled too, although deep down she did not fully understand what he meant.

The Restless Night

Later that night, Zenobi lay awake staring at the ceiling long after midnight while the heat in the room made everything even worse, because NEPA had taken light hours ago and the standing fan sitting in the corner of the room had become completely useless, leaving sweat gathering slowly around her neck as she kept turning from one side of the bed to the other trying unsuccessfully to find comfort.

But it was not really the heat keeping her awake.

It was Bassey's words.

Life is not pursuing you.

The statement replayed repeatedly in her head as she closed her eyes, opened them again, sighed deeply, and turned to face the wall, yet sleep still refused to come because for the first time in a very long while she found herself questioning things she had never truly stopped to think about before.

The Timeline She Created for Herself

At seventeen, Zenobi expected to already gain admission into the university, and by twenty-one she imagined herself graduating, while at twenty-three she should have already bagged her master's degree, and by twenty-five she expected to be married, financially stable, and already working her dream job.

Everything had already been mentally arranged step by step inside her mind, and over time those expectations stopped feeling like dreams and slowly began feeling more like deadlines she absolutely needed to meet before life somehow passed her by.

After failing JAMB twice, those deadlines suddenly started feeling heavier, because every passing birthday now felt like a reminder that life was no longer going according to the version she had carefully planned for herself years ago.

Watching Everyone Move Forward

Everywhere Zenobi looked, somebody seemed to be progressing in life while her own life still seemed uncertain, because one person gained admission, another traveled abroad on scholarship, while someone else was already posting pictures from lecture halls, campus hostels, and new environments that represented the exact life she had imagined for herself.

Even social media gradually became exhausting for her because every scroll through her phone felt like another reminder that everybody else seemed to be moving ahead while she remained where she was, constantly wondering when things would finally begin to change for her too.

Although she smiled publicly and congratulated people whenever necessary, privately fear quietly consumed her thoughts as she constantly questioned whether maybe life was already leaving her behind, while other nights she tried convincing herself that eventually things would somehow work out even though uncertainty still lingered heavily inside her chest.

And somehow, Bassey's words only made her think harder.

Understanding What Bassey Meant

Two days later, Zenobi finally gave in because deep within herself she knew a proper conversation with Bassey was necessary, although at first she hesitated while holding her phone because part of her felt embarrassed while another part feared the conversation might force her to confront truths she had spent a long time avoiding.

Still, she dialed his number.

The phone barely rang before Bassey picked up.

"Zee, I hope you're not overthinking what I said during the hangout."

Zenobi slowly sat upright on her bed.

"How did you know?"

Bassey chuckled softly before replying:

"Because I saw your expression before we all left that night, and honestly I suspected you would think about it too much."

There was a brief silence before Zenobi finally spoke again.

"I just don't understand how to stop worrying because it feels like everybody is moving ahead while I'm still standing in one place."

This time Bassey's voice became gentler.

"Zee, listen to me carefully. Life is not a competition, but you're treating your life like there's a stopwatch counting against you."

Zenobi remained quiet as he continued speaking.

"Living here and now doesn't mean you stop planning for your future, it simply means you stop punishing yourself because life is not happening exactly the way you imagined it would."

He paused briefly before adding:

"Some people gain admission early, some later, some figure life out at twenty while others figure it out at thirty, but delaying does not mean your life has failed."

For the first time in days, Zenobi felt something inside her slowly loosen as though the pressure she had silently carried for years was finally becoming lighter.

That night after the call ended, she sat quietly for a long time thinking deeply about everything Bassey had said, and slowly she began to understand.

Conclusion

Breathe.

Life is not a race, even though many young people today quietly feel pressured to achieve everything quickly - admission, graduation, success, marriage, financial stability, and a perfect future - as though life follows one exact timeline that everybody must somehow meet before a certain age.

But the truth is that life rarely goes exactly according to plan, because sometimes things delay, sometimes opportunities do not come when expected, sometimes dreams take longer to unfold, and sometimes life leads people through seasons they never imagined for themselves.

And none of that automatically makes anyone a failure.

Patience is one of the most important virtues anybody can learn, because life moves differently for everyone, and while some people seem to arrive early at certain stages of life, others arrive much later, yet both journeys still remain valid and meaningful in their own way.

Some people bloom early and everything seems to fall perfectly into place for them at a young age, while others spend years figuring themselves out before eventually becoming the person they were meant to be, and neither story makes one life more valuable than the other.

So while working toward your future and chasing your goals with seriousness and determination, do not become so consumed with where you are trying to reach that you completely forget to experience the life already happening around you right now.

Because sometimes peace begins the moment people stop rushing through life, stop measuring themselves against imaginary timelines, and finally allow themselves to grow, rest, heal, and become who they are at their own pace.

Life is not pursuing you.

You are allowed to breathe.

You are allowed to grow slowly.

And you are allowed to live here and now.

I wanted to attend this hangout because I finally had the chance to meet my coursemates in person and connect with them. Finding a study buddy along the way would have been a bonus.

Joke’s on me.

Halfway through the journey, I almost turned back. I remember asking myself, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Two voices followed me on the way there. One kept saying, “Finally!” The other whispered, “Don’t set your expectations too high. You might end up disappointed.”

Looking back now, I wish I had listened more closely to that second voice.

As it turned out, it wasn’t completely wrong.

I arrived late, and registration took longer than I expected. When I finally got in, I forced myself to take a few pictures, even though I already felt slightly out of place.

By then, I was starving. It was around 2 p.m., so I made my way to the food stand and collected a plate of jollof rice with chicken, along with bottled water and an Amstel Malt.

While I was getting my food, I missed the raffle draw.

That one really pained me, sha.

But at least the food was good.

After eating, I wandered over to the pool area, where a few people had gathered. Two men were playing pool while the others stood around watching. One of the men standing nearby invited me to join, but I quickly declined. I was the only woman there, and I had no intention of embarrassing myself.

“No be me una go flog abeg,” I said to myself.

Still, I made an effort to find my coursemates. After a while, I began to wonder whether they had received a secret memo telling them not to attend, and somehow, I was the only person who had missed it. After a few unsuccessful attempts to mingle, I decided it was time to leave.

Just as I was about to head out, I realised I needed to use the restroom. Once I was done, I did not waste any more time. I hopped on the first available bike because, at that point, all I wanted was to get home.

I reached the park, boarded the next available vehicle, and somewhere during the journey home, reality began to sink in.

I replayed the entire day in my head: the late arrival, the missed raffle draw, and the awkward attempts to connect. Everything I had hoped for seemed to have slipped through my fingers.

One thought kept running through my head:

“Shebi you for just stay your house.”

Even though the day did not turn out the way I imagined, it taught me something I might not have learned by staying at home.

The hardest part of attending an event is not walking into the room. It is walking out and realising you did not find the connection you hoped for.

Sometimes, you find your community immediately; other times, you leave disappointed, questioning if you made a financial mistake, or whether showing up was worth it.

But perhaps finding your people requires more than one room, one event, or one uncomfortable experience. It may require continuing to show up, even when the first experience does not go as planned. I went looking for my people and did not find them that day.

But until I do, I will keep showing up.

The irony is that the very thing you were trying to protect yourself from, you gradually become. You become the user you tried so hard to shield yourself from.

Whilst it is important to choose yourself, it is equally important not to lose your ability to choose others too. There is a difference between knowing your worth and believing only your worth matters.

Self is healthy. Selfishness is costly. The line between them is thinner than most of us realise.