THE CAT IN THE WATER - by Quietly Loud

There is something unusual about watching a cat slowly get used to water. Not because the cat is violent. Not because it is dramatic. But because you know, naturally, that cats are not so comfortable with it. Their resistance is expected. Their discomfort is normal. While randomly scrolling through videos about pets, I came across one about desensitizing cats. The person in the video explained how, over time, a cat could be trained to tolerate things it would naturally reject — being touched in sensitive places, being carried around, even being placed in water. At first, I found it interesting. Then, suddenly, blurry images and remembrance of words comes up in my mind. Because the more I watched and listened, the more I realized that Nigerians have also been desensitized. Not to water.Not to touch. But to horror. For years now, Nigerians have been exposed to violence so repeatedly that many of us no longer react to it the way human beings should. We scroll past kidnappings the same way we scroll past dance videos. We watch footage of people crying for help, families begging for ransom, children missing from schools, and then we continue with our day because somewhere along the line, survival forced us to normalize fear. Every day, people are kidnapped.Every day, people are killed.Every day, families wait for phone calls they pray will not come. And yet life continues. People still go to work.Students still attend lectures.Markets still open.There are still weddings, birthdays, festivals, celebrations. Today is Eid. My hostel is almost empty because everyone has gone home to celebrate with their families. During Christmas, it is the same thing. During New Year celebrations, it is the same thing. Life keeps moving. And maybe that is the most frightening thing of all. Not the violence itself, but how normal it has become. Somewhere in this country, while people are laughing over food and taking pictures with relatives, another family is probably trying to gather ransom money for a loved one tied up in a forest. Somewhere, parents are praying that their children return home alive. Somewhere, somebody is watching a video of a hostage pleading for help while knowing nobody is coming. And we have learned to live beside that reality. That is what desensitization does. It does not happen in one day. It happens slowly. Quietly. Repeatedly. Until eventually, things that should shake a nation only trend for a few hours before disappearing. A teacher was murdered publicly. Children were kidnapped from schools. Families were destroyed in front of cameras. Videos were uploaded online for citizens and the so called leaders to see. And what happened afterward? Nothing. No outrage strong enough.No urgency strong enough.No humanity strong enough. Worse still, even citizens have started speaking about tragedy like weather reports. “They kidnapped people again?”“It’s not new.”“We are already used to it.” Used to it. That sentence alone says everything. How does a country get used to human suffering? How do people become so emotionally exhausted that horror no longer horrifies them? What happened to us? And the painful part is that the problem is no longer only at the top. Corruption has spread so deeply into the roots of society that even among young people — the same people we claim will “change Nigeria” someday — the same sickness already exists. Two days ago, I experienced a student election for the second time play out in my university, and all I could think was this, the foundation itself is already damaged. The manipulation, selfishness, dishonesty, and hunger for power are not waiting at the top. They already exist at the grassroots. So when people say, “The young shall rule,” I sometimes wonder and then what? If the same corruption is already growing in the next generation, what exactly changes? Maybe this is the bitter truth many Nigerians are afraid to confront, we have adapted to dysfunction. We have adjusted ourselves emotionally to insecurity, corruption, violence, and failure because constantly reacting to every tragedy would destroy us mentally. So instead, we survive by becoming numb. Like the cat slowly adjusting to water, we have spent years being trained by repeated trauma. Now, things that should disturb us barely do anymore. And honestly, I think that is more dangerous than the violence itself. Because when people lose empathy, when a nation loses its ability to genuinely react to pain, when human suffering becomes ordinary, society begins to rot from the inside. Maybe Nigeria’s greatest tragedy is not corruption.Maybe it is not terrorism.Maybe it is not even bad leadership. Maybe the greatest tragedy is that millions of people have been forced to emotionally adapt to all three. We are becoming comfortable in waters human beings were never meant to survive in.

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