The Call of the Unknown

In our new age world, brimming with opportunities and adventures. I slowly, but eventually came to the conclusion that my life was like a square. I was in a way, living by the rules made by the society I found myself in. 

In Nigeria, just like in most societies to a certain degree, the daily life of a white collar, blue collar, pink collar or any colour collar jobs to be honest, revolved around mostly a predictable daily life routine. 

As the sun cast long shadows on the pavement as I walked out of the office building for the last time, walking the street of Adeola Odeku, one of the famous streets in Victoria Island or like we fondly call it V.I, a city once habited by the British during the colonial era in Nigeria. 

I barely had any belongings from the office, so no card boxes were necessary to pack my things. Except for my headphones, which for some reason seemed to match the heaviness in my heart. 

I had just lost my job, and with it, a sense of stability and purpose that had defined my life for about 5 years.  

But also, there was a sense of relief of not having to wake up at 4am in the morning to catch the office staff bus. Or the endless traffic that was almost always present on the way back from work. 

"Yes, I won’t be missing that ", I said to myself, as I stepped into the bustling city streets of one of the most populated cities in Africa, Lagos, or as we fondly call it, Lasgidi, with a population of 15 million (about twice the population of New Jersey). 

The noise and commotion only amplified my feelings of uncertainty. I had always been a planner, sometimes impatient with executing my plans, most times impatient while waiting for an outcome after executing. 

I preferred the comfort of the familiarity of my routine before now, the certainty. 

I came from a middle class family, we had ups and downs, sometimes growing up we got what we needed not what we wanted. 

From that early age as a teenager in a boarding house at Kings college in Lagos. I wondered how it would feel to be able to go anywhere I wanted at any time.

And then as an adult, working a shift based job in customer service, and depending solely on my salary. I got that same feeling in my gut, sitting on my office chair, imagining how it would feel to be able to travel to any country at any time without any restrictions. To actually live life and not just exist.

As a working class citizen, now all I had to do was stick to the rules at work, and I got paid at the end of the month. Not enough to provide me with the life I wanted, but just about enough to help me maintain the life I had and needed. Like my mum fondly said, "Enough to keep the body and soul together ". 

Currently, standing at this crossroads, both literally and figuratively, at a street junction, waiting for the next possibly crowded bus to come by to take me to my destination. I knew that life had thrown me a curveball—a chance to choose between the known and the unknown, between struggle and adventure. 

The labour market I found myself in was one of the most competitive and densely populated in the world. I knew that if I stayed, I would face fierce competition, battling against countless others vying for the same scarce opportunities. 

The thought of navigating through a sea of resumes, endless interviews, and countless rejections sent shivers down my spine. Was this the path I really wanted to take? In Nigeria, we had no social benefit like there is in France. 

The unemployed are left to fend for themselves. We had no government health insurance that I was aware of. The public hospitals tend to be more affordable than the private ones. Hence when there is an emergency, you rush to the public hospitals. You are greeted with a lot of waiting people. God forbid it's a life-or-death situation, you could most likely die while waiting to be attended to. 

I got back home early that day, having a slight sense of relief that I didn’t have the leave the V.I late, because of the notorious traffic it is known for. V.I is an Island where most of the big companies or their headquarters are located. 

A lot of people who worked there lived on the mainland. Several routes and bridges separated Victoria Island from the Mainland, the most famous is the Third Mainland bridge. 

Sometimes unforgettable for its award-winning traffic jam or hold ups. After work, I and some former colleagues would joke amongst ourselves, while we were in the company’s staff bus, staring at the Third mainland bridge from afar. 

The traffic was usually so much that from a distance, the brake lights from the cars on the bridge looked like Christmas lights. 

So, it was a sense of relief to have escaped the almost predictable traffic that would occur later that evening. 

However, deep within me, a childhood dream flickered like a distant lighthouse guiding me through the storm. France—a land of romance, art, and culture—had always held a special place in my heart.

 I had dreamt of strolling through the charming streets of Paris, savouring the delicate flavours of French cuisine, and immersing myself in a language that sounded like poetry to my ears. It was a dream that had remained dormant for far too long, overshadowed by practicality and responsibilities. 

But now, with my back against the wall, I saw an opportunity to breathe life into that dream. The thought of venturing to France, a country where I had no basic knowledge of the language, both thrilled and terrified me. 

It was the epitome of the unknown—an adventure waiting to unfold. Could I muster the courage to leave behind everything familiar and embrace a new culture, a new language, and a new way of life? 

I weighed the options before me. On one side, the predictable path, a struggle through the overcrowded labour market in search of a stable job, the potential for financial security, and the comfort of a settled life. 

However, an obvious reality stood glaring as well. At least more than half of the population in the city had the same degree I had (a Bachelors) or even better ( a master's degree) .

On the other side of the coin, I could take a leap of faith, a journey into the unknown, with the promise of adventure, personal growth, and the pursuit of a long-forgotten dream. A dream I watched my high school friends achieve with what appeared to me, to be relative ease. 

I realised that sometimes the biggest risks in life carry the greatest rewards. Some rewards were instant, others were delayed. 

I won’t say I have received all the rewards yet, because in survival mode, you don’t measure. You just keep planting seeds and see which one's bear fruit. 

During this brief period of oblivion, like the hope a lighthouse gives to a ship during a storm, my mum gave me hope. Relentless, constant and always readily available hope, backed up with prayers. It's still a source of strength for me up till this day and till my day on earth. 

As we contemplated my future, I knew that if I chose the path of struggle, I would always wonder what could have been. 

The allure of the unknown beckoned to me, whispering stories of personal transformation, serendipitous encounters, and the discovery of a world within myself that I had yet to explore.  

Sometimes, those whispering stories changed to blunt statements. Statements like” it’s either now or never “and “You are not getting any younger”.