The 20s is one ugly MF.
It sucks the life out of you and still demands more — (Leave him alone karishika eehy sucking his blood, Tufiakwa)
I’ve got a writer’s bloc still I’m penning this — and nope, that isn’t a flex. It’s more of a tribute to everybody in their 20s who are depressed, broke or heartbroken and yet still have to climb on a rickety yellow Danfo to Lagos Island every Monday morning to make things work. For very little pay.
I realized it isn’t precisely Lagos that snuffs the life out of you — it’s the age; and the hustle that comes with the age. Remember clearly that Oxford scholar and philosopher (and also endsars correspondent of the police force on IG live) — Azeez Fashola or Naira Marley once quipped and I’ll quote:
“Lagos is enjoyable, some folks are doing fine. Malo fo bi awo.”
There’re no truer words.
I don’t think Lagos or location is the primary problem — our age is. We’re the underdogs. Some top shots make success grins or perfect smiles on magazine covers and we’re the unseen hands behind this.
The recent graduate who draft the documents behind the scenes. The recruit engineer who ACTUALLY develop the million-dollar ideas. The creative who strives to combine his talents with his 9–5 job because it’s Nigeria and being an Ojodu Tupac won’t pay the bills. The lone entrepreneur who hopes her ideas pop one day. The young lawyer who’s striving for a better pay because her take home can’t exactly take her home, it takes her to a state of paranoia as to what and how tomorrow will be. The bearded guy who sits on the couch all day sending: “application for graduate internship” to hr@whateverthehellyourofficenameis. Anybody who feels deeply connected to the Lekki massacre on 20–10–20.
We’re the lost generation even though we’ve faced the harshest of obstacles.
I’m not saying we all have it badly. Every MF on LinkedIn seems to have their lives together until I jam them on twitter. I’m just trying to say — whichever your issue is — I’m here for you.
Employed or Unemployed. Paid or Unpaid. Booed up or Booless. Holy are thou or Humans evolved from Apes. Straight or did they caught me. First class or I sell bitcoins. Kiddwaya or straight outta Ajegunle. I’m right here for you.
With no iota of fake love,
Twenties.
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