Before I begin this rant, I would like to point out that I do not regard myself a pessimist, I would prefer to think I am a realist. I try very hard not to dwell on superfluous ideals that probably would never yield fruit, I believe in calling a spade a spade and not a working tool. I believe that there are certain heights you should not attempt to climb if you are not armed with a certain type of gear, and I don’t advise people to build castles in the sky. Yes, I am a realist, I think that is what I am.
My reason for this post is really not far fetched. I would not hide it, I am one of those people who were not born with the proverbial spoon in their mouths,
since I was 19 (a little late even at that) I had learned how to work to earn money to cover certain responsibilities I had to myself. Now at half of fifty I have learned how to bear the burdens of others from my own toil. Every day on the ride home from the place I call work, I mull over the day’s activities, I ask myself, “Is this really what I had set out to do when I bagged my degree?” Sometimes this rhetoric plays over and over again in my head with no answer provided. It’s a continous cycle, never ending.
As an undergraduate I had great dreams. I talked about them daily to whoever cared to listen, I read hard, worked hard, with the hope that in time I would be an inch closer to my dream. I have always wanted to have a career in Diplomacy, to become a renowned Diplomat and Professor, one whose opinion would matter to the high and low, someone who would impact on lives far and near with policies formulated with the interests of people at heart. I wanted to mount rostrums in classrooms and bequeath the knowledge of tactful relations on a global scale to willing minds, I did have great dreams. However as I muse over my present, I ask myself, how valid are these dreams? Am I still allowed to ponder on ways I could wade towards my dream? Or am I to focus on letting the tide take me anywhere just as long as it yields all I need to support myself and the people whose burdens I carry? How valid are the dreams of the average Nigerian youth who has no attachments whatsoever to big wigs and people in the corridors of power? What is the likelihood of you moving up the ladder when it is not even within your grasp? So many questions, no answers. I am a realist, and so I choose to dwell in what I see today. The hope that is born from wishing things would be different is lethal, quick to push even the most happy hearts to depression.
What does one do then when it seems like you are living a wasted life all because you are not on the path to your actual goal in life? What do you do when you have little to even enjoy from the work you put in where life has thrust you? What do you do when you cannot stop mulling over the fact that your country is so fucked up that there is almost no room for grass to grace analogies? Are you still allowed to dream? Or do you live to die? I would be glad if someone could profer answers.
Someone out there might be in this same predicament, feel free to share yours. If you have professional advice to share, it is more than welcome.