My heart squeezed in my chest. My veins became visible. My brows furrowed. My breath quickened. My voice broken. When I suddenly came across clips from the Lekki massacre of 20th -10-20.
People died! Youths were shot. How do we deal with this? How can one heal from such injustice? Just two seconds into the video I bolted. It's been months since I've thought about the ENDSARS protest. Now I know the traumatizing effect still lingers.
How do I heal? How is healing even possible. Am I supposed to? Or am I supposed to feel this rage? But then how much rage and anger can I hold.
We are scarred. Society scars us with injustice. And we are supposed to just keep living like it never happened. What kind of world do we live in. What kind of world do we really live in?! How is it okay to gun down peaceful protesters who are protesting against police brutality?
Beneath my anger is surprise.
Suprise that this sedimented anger at society is still in my heart. And Beneath that surprise is fear. Am I next?. Will I be the next Nigerian Guy that gets stopped harassed and shot just because I hold an iPhone or I got a hairstyle like Odell Beckham?.
How did we get here? Who led us to this point. It's not. It's. It's killing my soul I swear. My body's paralyzed. And I feel my soul slipping out of me. I feel my mind going insane. How is this a reality? How is this our reality? How is this my reality!
Another thing I fear. Is if this will stick with me forever. I don't want it to. Yet I don't want to dismiss it happened! People died. Children. Women. Young Guys with full lives ahead of them. What was their crime? They demanded the right to live.
I'm just sad. I'm exhausted. We protested! And got killed for it! What else is there to do. I don't know what exactly to feel cause I feel all these at once.
I'm broken. I wish I could stay strong but I feel guilty for not being able to. This cruelty is too much. Not just in my country Nigeria but all around the world. I just watched a white man kneeling on a black man's neck for nine minutes. I see Asians attacked. I watch school shootings occur as our planet becomes unlivable with each second.
The world is fucked up! But Is it meant to be? Am i. Are We! Meant to just take it for what it is? How is that that it's my generation that gets to clean the mess of our forefathers?! What were they thinking? What the hell were they thinking. Didn't they pause to wonder what the effects and consequences of their actions on future generations.
More importantly. How do I not be like them? I am a teenager. I'll definitely someday like to have kids. I don't want my kids growing up in a world of police brutality, racism, global warming, tribalism, terrorism, banditry, kidnapping, hate attacks.
That's why despite the warm tears dripping all over my journal as I pen this. I decide not to give up. Not to stand down. Not to succumb. Because this is not about me and my feelings. It's something bigger. It's about right or wrong. Evil and good. Light and darkness.
It's about standing up. Taking responsibility. And amending wrongs. So my kids and generations to come won't have to deal with all these shit that traumatize their brain development like it's doing to mine.
I can't give up.
Despite the oppression. Despite the hopelessness and emptiness, I may feel I can't give up.
I just can't.
YOU ARE READING
'19' Last Days Of Being a Teenager |Memoir
Non-FictionNotes on Coming Of Age and stuff.
