Today, my worst fear came to life.
Wait. Do you have fears? Are you like me? Is there anything you are very much afraid of? Come one, don’t tell me nothing! I know many parents are scared. Scared of so many things. Some are scared that on a cold day in November, their only son will refuse to come for Family Prayer. And then, after the prayer, mummy will go into David’s room and ask him why he has refused to come out for prayers. And then David will remove his headphones, sit up and say,
‘I no longer believe in God. He doesn’t exist.’
He will say it quietly. He won’t shout it. And that will only make it worse. And so mummy will stand transfixed, not knowing whether to call daddy or start casting out the demon called atheism.
‘And mum,’ the teenage boy will add, ‘My name is no longer David. Call me Dave’ And then he will put his headphones back on his ears and slip into silence.
I bet some parents are still scared of that day. Some are expecting. Some are experiencing it already. Some don’t even know it’s already coming. It’s like The Day of the Trumpets. Some are expecting while some don’t even know it’s coming at all.
To these parents, the fall of their teenage son is their worst fear.
Some guys out there too have fears. Crazy and scary fears. Some are afraid that one day, they will no longer be able to have sex. Yes. Sex. These are the guys who spend their nights between different laps. Today it’s with the Egyptian. Tomorrow it’s with the Phoenician. Next week, it’s with the Mother of Dragons. And then the day will come when they will start to feel something strange beneath themselves. First, they will think it’s nothing. And so they will keep on living life. Until the day will come when they will feel pressed. And then they will rush to the toilet and zip down. But nothing will come out. They will push and scream and do all that can be done. They will be feeling the liquid. But nothing will flow out. Nothing but pain. Excruciating pain. Pain beyond measure.
For these guys, their worst fear is the disease that is knocking on their doors.
Ladies have fear too, right? Single ladies. Married ladies. Old women who call themselves ladies. Men created men by God who call themselves ladies. Primary school girls who call themselves ladies. Ladies! Ladies! Ladies!
Some ladies are afraid of the future. Have you ever spoken to a girl and hear her say she’s afraid of old age? No? Come on! I’m not the only one who’s heard that. Anyways, some girls are afraid of old age. They are afraid of wrinkles and lines and frowns and a coarse voice and a ‘witchy’ laugh. They are afraid that one day, one black day in July, when the birds have gone to sleep, when monsters are contemplating whether they should come out of their shells or remain aliens and objects of fantasy. Some ladies are afraid that on this fateful day, in the dark, they will grow old. And their beauty will fade away. They are afraid that their well shaped eyebrows will one day grow bald. They are afraid that one day, their sexy smiles will turn into grimaces. They are afraid that one day, their full breasts will fall down like the wall of Jericho and sag. They are afraid that their smooth legs, the ones that have led many men to the pits of hell, will one day become as rough as stone. They are afraid that one day, they will walk the streets they once walked and no one, not a single soul will call them or say hi. No one will call and say they like their shoes. No one, because there will be no shoes. Only slippers and sandals.
That’s some girls worst fear. They are afraid of it like hell. The only good thing about their own fear is that, it has a solution. Invest in your inner beauty and you will never grow old. I promise.
Yeah! I said, my worst fear was confirmed today. This morning.
I bet by now, some of you might have guessed what my worst fear is. No, it’s not that. It’s not that thing about STDs. It’s something worse. Something that, if it should happen, it will be like death.
I’m afraid that one day, I will wake up in my room , pick up my pen and try to write. And then I will not be able to. I will think and think and think but nothing will come. And then, like a herdsman discovering an oasis for his camels, I will realize that the writing blood in me has dried up. This, my friends, is my worst fear.
And something like that happened this morning. I picked up my device, opened a Word document and nothing came up. Nothing. I thought of writing about the Night. But I couldn’t. I thought of writing about Love. I couldn’t. I thought of writing about this brown girl who speaks a foreign language. Still, I couldn’t. And then, fear came upon me. Alas! My worst fear has been confirmed. I screamed.
My two friends asked me why I wasn’t going to the hostel and I had no answer. I did not know how to tell them that I was scared I could no longer write. And that if that fear was true, I would not last long on Earth’s surface. It sounded strange and scary. I cried within.
But somehow, somehow, I have still been able to write like a thousand words on my being unable to write anything. Perhaps that means something. Perhaps it means my ink is not totally dried up after all. Perhaps, there is still little. A drop. A driblet.
Anyways, whether a drop or a mighty ocean, one thing is certain. I am still a writer. And my worst fear is still at bay. Merci Dieu.
So tell me, what’s your worst fear?
Happy New Weekend.