Bread and data

Anonymous

Man is least himself when he talks in
his own person. Give him a mask,
and he will tell you the truth.
-Oscar Wilde

[To our assistant course rep Sarah; your begging is a different type of super power. Try to dey control am. You too dae beg like say you no dae see food chop...nawaoh..
[What's with Isiah? Walking like his balls are too heavy for him..
[I'm crushing on one small boy like this. He's not far from the ground. His name is Wadud
[Walai our LA no get data. Since asuu don strike baba no see free wifi use again.. ]
-Excerpt from some screenshotted anonymous messages.

About a week after the first case of the novel Coronavirus was confirmed in Nigeria, brought in by an Italian businessman who insisted to keep his identity undisclosed. Everybody was on edge, possibly another Ameyo Adadevoh situation. All schools and institutions were forced to go on an indefinite break, only security operatives and medical personnel were allowed to go work. This time of the year particularly in Nigeria is the period when most schools are active, and now students were forced to evacuate the hostel and go back to their homes. I was lucky, I managed to get my bachelor's degree a couple of months before then, but I won't say I was no longer a student because I was still in the system. 
For most people the closure of school came out of the blue and the ones that anticipated it thought it was not going to last.  By the third week at home college students were really getting bored, no party or hookups. Student union executives, game shakers, slay mamas are running menial chores at home. They felt out of place and no sense of importance, it was like caging a pink panther, and I get it, for I was in it too.
Then came the wave of the anonymous messages, it came just like the pandemic itself, it spreads fast and wide, before you know it, it is everywhere; group platforms, chat rooms, blogs, and broadcast messages.
The way the anonymous message works is easy, you click on a link from the group chat or chat room, the link takes you to a website that masks your digital identity. It requires no fee or password to sign up. This gives you access to write and send about 300 words to the person that sent the link without a sensor. It's a perfect digital convention chamber.
I tell you for the most part it was fun before it got dark, even though the identity of the people sending the messages were protected, people still sent calculated messages, enough to make everybody laugh, and at least for the person concerned to fake a laughter or smile, you know like a bad joke. And when I thought I'd exhausted my awe in 2020, the message shattered my wildest imagination (even Vin Diesel R&B track couldn't match this). I never knew who Rebecca was from my department but her story was the first to caught my eyes. Unfortunately, Rebecca has been a very bad girl and her story has gotten around quite well, her private part became a public discussion, to the extent that a particular gentleman went to an incredible length to write a couplet in praise of her vagina.
#Anonymous:
I know this girl we call her Sweet Cooch Brown
Hands down, mami had the bombest pussy in town
Yemisi's loaded, if you're short on cash you can ask her
But If you need cure to a hardon just call Rebecca
Of course, we all laughed, but it wasn't funny to the girl in question. Then things changed, just like the ancient Romans at the Colosseum where they had beautiful maidens come in to dance for them naked, and all sorts of stuff (history only said dance naked, but given that they were Romans, we all know it didn't end at dancing). This became the regular activity for the Roman upper class, after going through their tremendous weekly activities, the Colosseum was the place where they go for entertainment and other stuffs, this was their order for the week. On a freaky afternoon, one fucked up mother fucker with a twisted definition of what pleasure is, definitely sick upstairs, suggested that after they've been entertained by the maidens, they should let loose beasts of prey to devour the beautiful maidens, you know just to sweet things up. Given that the Romans are already bored with their regular activities and looking for entertainment wherever they could find it, they bought the idea. After the maiden entertained them in whatever style of dances the Romans have then, they release animals like lions and tigers to devour the maidens while they sit and watch.
Obviously, you and I can admit that is sick, but certainly that's the nature of humans, when we have the means and no restrictions or moral uprightness, we'll do anything to try to cure boredom and get rid of the well-acquainted routine, we go to extent and over compensate. We human beings are subject to desires and cravings, but when we are able to satisfy these desires, the satisfaction is only temporary. As you know, pleasure does not last; or if it does, it ceases to please us, we get used to it and it becomes boring or monotonous.
But I digress, there we got bored of the regular entertainment, and what amuse us the most seems more like a norm now, then we started letting loose our tiger and lions too, in fact with some things said on that platform, it would have been better to let loose tigers and lions. And at some point, I don't even know if the things that were being said were true or even necessary; ex -girlfriend embellished stories about their ex-boyfriends, same with angry ex-boyfriends. Confidence was broken, secrets uncovered and friends betrayed each other's trust. I wonder if I was in another dimension back in college, my eyes couldn't believe some of the things it was seeing.
The normal mind is quick to detect and detach itself from accusations or at least try to, the comment came out of nowhere, totally uncalled for, and suddenly I was dragged into the mess too, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a sexist. Why? because I was rigid to the phantom pains of overzealous, over privileged young ladies. It happened then a group of girls in the department felt they weren't getting much attention or taking much seriously as the guys in the department. First of all, you should know this, most of the work we do then requires computer computations, an area where boys excel girls two to one. This led to a series of stickers and banners on the departmental notice boards, lectures and awareness were held in the tea room upstairs, mostly on their gendritification plans. I can't even fully remember how I was caught in it, but I got caught in a heated debate with some members of the uprising and said somethings without giving much thought into it, 'women are ever in extremes, they are either better or worse than men.' I said (to a friend of course, without giving much thought to it, why we are having a casual discussion). And I thought it ended there, if only I know that was just the start to a great feminine war. Nay, it felt more like a jihad; at least in war you know who your enemies are and why. Silly me, and I was wondering why I couldn't get a girl from my department. Things I said and the ones I didn't, all came back to haunt me in the form of a two-headed anonymous slander message. But I was still thankful for the most part, I was still one of the few people that made it out with few hits, and with recent knowledge that came to light, I was able to clear my name and give some apology where due.
One thing I learned from the whole happenstance is; if you desire peace in this life, you're your secrets undisclosed, and nothing, I mean nothing is a secret in this life, you might say confidently that nobody knows that you have skeletons in your wardrobe (one of them is even wearing a skirt), because you believe no one knows or no one has talked about it or at least talk about it to your face, doesn't mean your secrets aren't out there somewhere playing peekaboo with some lousy mouther. The sun must shine, man must whack, some people must blab, you just have to accept that. It may be on purpose i.e., your friend just decides to be a two-face bitch by blabbing out the confidence, or maybe it just happened without given much thought to it and the said to be friend got carried away or perhaps he even wants to brag about it to make himself looks cool or gain a favory from the recipient, whatever. Bottom line is, your secret is out there as long as it is out there. Just like Buddha said, but mine lacking a touch of divinity, "three things cannot be long hidden; the sun, the moon and the secret you told a friend." And also, as Freud said. "He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore."
I don't know to who, but this need to be said; an indiscreet man is more hurtful than an ill-natured man; for as the latter will only attack his enemies and those he wishes ill to, the former injures indifferently both friends and foes.