The day is Friday, 25th of February. The time is 9:24 P. M. The hostel is practically empty because everyone is at this huge church program where Pastor E. A. Adeboye is.
I am on my bed, waiting patiently for my phone to charge, when I hear a plane fly across. The first thought that comes to mind is “Awon Russia ti wa pawa o”, but then again, my friends are at this church program. What if Russian soldiers are targeting the gathering and they throw a huge ass bomb or missile?
I sound like a Yaegerist. Fuck.
Back to reality, everyone is low-key panicking about this Russia and Ukraine feud. Personally, I still do not understand the bone of contention, but I know they’ve been at it for a while. A lot of people have also chosen to turn a blind eye to it, as it doesn’t concern us. We do live at the very bottom of the food chain, so the chances of dying from missile attacks might be slim.
However, these war threats got me thinking.
“The world is ending” is a phrase that has been since time memorial. I have heard it times without number and because I grew up in a Christian background, I’d crawl into a corner and confess all my sins, just in case Angel Gabriel loses his shit and blows the trumpet. I was always scared of the future, I never gave a shit about the past. As long as God can forgive me for stealing my Grandma’s money, I don’t care if the world burns into ashes. Heaven is assured.
Now that the world is ending again, I sincerely do not care about the afterlife. I don’t care what would become of me if I was recruited to fight the Russian army. I care about all the things I have done, up to this very point. I care about the love I lost and I so desperately want back. I care about failed friendships now, cause, if we’re all going to die, we might as well grab a couple of slices of pizza, cry and make up for lost time. I care about the risks I’ve been scared to take. I care about… yeah, I kinda lost count of all the things I care about. (I’m not always like this, I swear)
For me, I never expect much from life. If we’re all going to die, there’s pretty much no point of struggling and trying to make it. But now that that the world might be ending, I regret not signing up for those writing competitions. I regret not singing when I had the chance. At least, I have been to the beach, I can tick that off my invisible bucket list.
If the world was ending, I wouldn’t want to die broke. I want to make my first million but that seems like a far stretch if I haven’t even made my first 100k. If the world was ending, I’d want to kiss my grandmother and hug her for a long time cause she’s older than this oloriburuku man called Putin. It is disrespectful to her age and chieftancy to be threatened like a chicken. (If you’re Russian and you’re reading this, that word means kind hearted man)
If the world was ending, a lot of you would do a lot of things without regrets. Like fall in love with your best friend or sleep with someone else’s boyfriend. You could rob a bank too, whatever rocks your boat.
If the world was ending, I want all my friends to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the most distant and the most shitty friend. And it might as well be too late, but I love you. And if I could turn back time, I would love you all the right way.
If the world was ending (I know you’d eventually read this) you’d come over, right?
Yours in peril,
Oluwatumininu.
