I hate my Job

WHAT DEATH STOLE FROM US. Ours is a world where busyness reigns supreme. We live, grow, age and die for money. While growing up, we were human beings that lived life as simple as the snap of our fingers ; but when adulthood came, it was an uncle with all the facial features who flogged us when mama went out but hands us a bar of chocolate when mama is wide awake. It made us robots, programmed by our ego and live our lives just to share a bed with hypocrisy. I’m still trying to understand why life gives us breathe and still poisons the air. Is it because our hypocrisy billows, because our ego must be pleased and our reality is afraid? Or because we are the cards while some powers greater than us plays gamble with our lives? Everything is happening too fast. While we're busy with social media, our lives runs faster than our shadows. We sleep and wake up to another world who was busy toiling all night to make our years of labor look stupid. Yet we still fight for the things that we should have laughed over. We array ourselves in so much bureaucracy, trying to put our flesh in a competition with the computer. I can imagine, the way life seats and laughs so hard at the simple tests we’ve failed; trying to pronounce ‘cinematography’ when we were asked to recite the letters of the alphabet. Today I spoke with a friend. I asked her how she sees life and she said “ People die young. You can die young. People will inadvertently move on. Live your best life in the light of God. When people say call them please do, you never know when they will die”. Those words became streamlined and swam to the deepest parts of my sacred wild thoughts and it made me realize what death stole from, perhaps, why I love death. We spend our years trying to please God and figure out where He lives. We do this so much that we forget we are on earth and our flesh still rings bells in the forgotten places to remind us we’re still humans who flaws make perfect. We make God the center of our lives in a way He gets ashamed, seats on the edge and gapes at our common sense to help us out of our misery. But what if God is in our minds, waiting for our truest sincerity to meet him? This we don’t know, we may not know and we don’t care. But death brings us back to the reality we are scared to embrace. It tells us that we are nothing but a symbiotic experiment that will one day become a palatable meal for other organisms. In life, nothing lasts forever except regrets. A feeling that stirs up strife and gets us drunk with contempt. It’s quite unfortunate that we listen to it and enjoy the song it plays in our head, so much so that we do everything possible to flee its territory. But how can we when our ego is ever present to defend itself. In life, people come and go. Some faces will be lost tangibly, but memories will keep them safe. So, why not make friends with memories and let fate make love with tomorrow? For the future is us, and tomorrow is a person with breasts who never fails to give life to the future and nurture it forgetting it is no robot as well. We are the ones who should be feared and not death. We only make death look wicked by the way we treat our kind and still cry when our inadvertent wishes of busyness ride horses. We are the generation that finds it very easy to find love but incredibly hard to keep it. We are the generation that death does a favour. We are the generation that loves the normal people and forget that ‘ab' is the only things that makes abnormal seem strange. But what exactly did death steal from us? Is it a loved one that made us form an ocean with our eyes? A loved one we never told or showed how much we love them, but frown our faces for the whole day when they err for just some hours after days of throwing our teeth in the air for laughter’s sake. Did death steal our worth? Or does it tell us that the respect we so much crave for is to be given to mother earth someday. Did death steal our humanity and make us mean? Or did it show us the reality we hid below our bed and cover with a very dirty rag to be forgotten? A reality of vanity. Of enjoy life while it lasts and be kind. Of you only live once. Of the lives we reject because wearing a tuxedo is more honorable than a khaki shorts. Dropping our common nakedness and picking up all the friends of formality. I think death is a thief. A smart one, because it stole where we are heading to — the era of robots — and brings us the hidden parts of our humanity that makes us cry and feel sober. Death stole our hardness and gave us love. *You can die young*... These words sank deeper than I imagined today. Life remains a puzzle that even the experts fail it at some point and death is the judge. Life is too simple to be too official and formal. Play, laugh, cry, dance even if you're too bad a dancer. Do the daring things. Get drunk sometimes. Create memories and laugh out loud at how stupid you can be. Take some time off and be totally human. Robots don't enjoy this. Don't be one. In all these, wait for death; for it arrives to remind us we are only visitors and can be sent packing at anytime whatsoever. Don’t be scared of it, but tell those you love that you love them. Tell them often, and be not selfish, for nothing is truly yours except death. 

 •Achi Gp Nuel.