Dead dreams are hard to resurrect


This year has fast become one of sober reflection for me. I don’t know what exactly kicked off the ‘thinker’ in me – maybe it was seeing my slightly-older aunt with her four kids all happy and jolly-looking or the fact that Agbudu Udi now has pipe-borne water courtesy of Gov. Sullivan Chime. Whatever the cause of this incessant need to rationalise things, I welcome it.‬‬
‪‪ It takes a person of character – good character- to pause and admonish herself for having dreamt foolish dreams with gold plated chariots. I’m glad to know I am that person.
For the past three years I’ve been chasing a dream, a foolish dream. One I cherished as a girl. A dream I now see as a hindrance. Thank God!‬‬
‪‪ In retrospect, it wasn’t such a foolish dream. You see, I wanted to bag a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I have this love of health administration and stethoscopes. Were it not for my abject laziness as a teen, I would’ve ventured into Medicine. Sadly, I was a misguided bookworm: a lover of fiction, a dreamer, an adoring fan of mills & boon paperbacks. Akpabio didn’t have a chance in hell of prying me away from my love of fiction, to the dreary world of equations.‬‬
‪‪ I remember graduating from secondary school with my head in the clouds. Having failed to fall in love with the sciences, I immediately burrowed into the arts. Boy, was it fun!
When I enrolled into college for my LLB, I told my father I was going to become a kick-ass lawyer and fight for Children’s rights. He was superbly impressed! I was impressed, too; of my zeal to do good. Sadly, nary a good have I done as a self-proclaimed advocate of human rights since then. Well, there was that one time I stood up to a policeman to fight for the fundamental human rights of a total stranger. It was instinctive, that urge to right that wrong.‬‬ And it felt good.
‪‪ To be frank, I think I was daunted – yes, daunted! – by the amount of hard work to be done. For all our promulgations and ratifications of Human Rights Laws and Charters, Nigeria is akin to the Amazon jungle where only the fittest, smartest and luckiest survive to see a new day.
Jeez! I feel not only retrospective, I feel sad, too. Very sad! Weepy sad! I lost a birthday mate – we were born the same day and year – to the sleazy world of addiction-induced crime. He was arrested for armed robbery.
This is a boy who rocked FGC, Enugu. He was an It-boy. The go-to guy for reps. He made girls swoon with his quiet ways and nice physique. I grew up thrilled to have him as a birthday mate. Now, I’m just sad. Weepy sad like he’s no more.
I should’ve done something a year ago, anything, when I was approached by his brother to solicit on his behalf. That was my first visit to SARS. I was horrified to see my birthday mate bedraggled and limping. I was doubly horrified to hear he was incarcerated for armed robbery: he stole a phone from a young woman, in order to feed his cocaine addiction, he confessed.
I wanted to scream: Why? How? What happened to my birthday mate? Who is the three-headed demon that introduced him to drugs and ruined his life? What can be done? Did he seek professional help?
Questions! Questions! Question! Questions his parents and siblings have no answer to. Questions that I’m afraid are too late to be answered. My birthday mate has gone down the drain like dirty soapy water that one is happy to see slide into oblivion.
After many a tryst with the law, my birthday was arrested while robbing with arms. I wanted to ask, what kind of arms? Was is it a razor, knife, cutlass, gun, bomb? But, I held myself. The evidence, they said, is overwhelming.
So, here I am on the precipice of a new week, about to resume work at my old law firm that I ditched in favour of the glittering lights of Lagos, sad, sober and full of thoughts. I imagine he had dreams and his family chersihed some hopes for him. Dreams and hopes that are long dead. Dead dreams are hard to resurrect.

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About Egoyibo Okoro

Beautiful. Friendly. Opinionated. Feminist. Scholarly. Apolitical. Christian. Sometimes, I write in Engli-Igbo and/or pidgin English. Just so you know, I am naturally disgruntled about a lot of things, most especially gender inequality, human rights abuses, racism and corruption. #EndChildMarriage. #EndTerrorism. #EndPoverty. #EndRacism. #EndImperialism. The Igbo say, "egbe bere, ugo bere, nke si ibe ya ebena nku kwa ya" - Live and let live!
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