Darkness Reflects on our Faces

Yes, the darkness reflects on the faces of young Africans, faces that should be bright with hope and vitality, now worn and aged far beyond their years. They carry the weight of a life they’ve been forced to endure, a life not of their choosing. This is not some imaginative tale. This is the raw, painful reality we endure. A truth that grips the streets of Nigeria, where dreams are smothered before they can bloom, and where the promise of a future is buried beneath the debris of broken systems. We’ve been deceived, lured by sweet words and hollow promises. In pursuit of short-term gains, we fell into traps set by those who swore to lead us to better days. A majority of the population, unable to be manipulated or misled, stood tall in hope, only for the rug to be yanked from under our feet. In the struggle to regain our footing, a leader was shoved down our throats, not one chosen by us, but one strategically planted, like a chess piece in a game played far beyond our control. As we scrambled to understand, as we tried to catch our breath, seeds of division were sown among us. Unity, once our strength, was torn apart. And this leader, oh, he was not just another figurehead. He was a strategic thinker, well well-calculated. We know not where this path leads, so we all struggle to see the vision through the fog that clouds our way. Shoved into unwanted circumstances, young Nigerians find themselves in a dark tunnel, one with no light in sight. The future that once gleamed with potential now feels out of reach. Those who went ahead of us, the ones who were supposed to light the way for the younger generation, have cast long, oppressive shadows instead. They’ve shattered the maps and destroyed the guides that were meant to help us find our way. And now, we, the dreamers, feel hopeless, wandering in circles, grasping at fragments of lost ambition. Yet, in the midst of this darkness, there are still a few, blinded by vision, refusing to yield to the darkness. For those who cannot see must sharpen their other senses. In the blindness forced upon us, we learn to listen more intently, to feel our way through the chaos, to trust that our hands will find the path even when our eyes cannot. The few who remain steadfast, and determined, use the blindness of their vision as a tool, a tool to hone their instincts, their resolve. But let us not pretend that the road ahead is anything but brutal. There is no way around this tunnel we find ourselves in. The only way out is through. And to make it through, we must blind ourselves with our vision, not to escape reality, but to see beyond it. We must smell the scent of our dreams even in the stench of decay. We must hear the call of our purpose even when the noise of defeat grows deafening. We must speak our truths boldly, even when lies surround us. And we must grab hold of what we seek, even if the world tells us it is out of reach. The Nigerian condition is bleak, suffocating, and relentless. Our nation, once rich with promise, has turned into a battlefield of survival, where young people carry the scars of struggles they shouldn’t have to bear. But the youth, have learned to endure, to adapt, to fight back against the tide of oppression. And as the darkness continues to reflect on our faces, it also serves as a reminder that we are still here, wounded, yes, but not defeated. Blinded by vision, we will find our way through this tunnel. We will carve a path out of this despair with our bare hands if we must. Because even in the darkest of nights, those who refuse to yield can still find their way by the faintest light of their own dreams. And in the end, it is not the darkness that defines us, but the way we rise through it. So, will we let the shadows swallow us whole, or will we become the light we so desperately seek?

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