That morning, I realised how bad the power situation in the country had gone from bad to worse. Discordant tunes from the popular ‘I beta pass my neighbour’ generator and other sizes of the useful distractor drove me nut with noise pollution. My closest neighbour decided to make his weapon of mass deafening work from 8.pm to 6.34am. Sometimes I wonder if that household was running an underground morgue that needed electricity for twenty-four hours. Who else could you blame if not the man who gave his daughter’s hand in marriage before the break of dawn. The power distribution company enjoyed being paid for the darkness it supplied people.
Baba gave the rumor mongers smiles when he announced an ease in the lockdown the following week, due to the economic hardships brought on the populace by the Wuhan bug. It was, therefore, cheering news that the lockdown would be melted down and relative normalcy would return. However, the NCDC reports were still scary. No flat curve yet in infection rate. One thousand, five hundred and thirty-two (1532) were infected and mortality had moved from forty (40 )to forty -four (44) with two hundred and fifty five ( 255) discharged cases. No doubt, hunger cases would had been more devastating if they were recorded.
Dimeji had his first online training on zoom that day. He discussed how the training went. He said that the facilitators did not join on video and that debarred him and his online classmates from seeing their faces. I became so familiar with zoom classes because of my engagements to the extent that I became a resource person on zoom class to my friend, Dimeji Aberuagba.
Dear Diary I’m back here to update you because my sleep was halted after a dream. My dream was about an online class. My mind travelled around the activities I had been indulging in. I was in a class that did not conclude due to poor network issues, a constant feature in the daily life of an average internet user in Nigeria. The previous day, an online meeting was hijacked by hackers. The meeting was inflitrated with pornographic materials which embarrassed everyone connected. That was a lesson for my upcoming wellness program for creative artists. Only registered participants would get meeting identification code.
Shortly after the dream truncated my sleep, the real source of my insomnia was revealed. It was the noise from my neighbour’s generating set. Power was restored but the neighbour’s generator was still on. I prayed that sleep would find me again before the dawn of another day.
Written by Funke Awodiya
Image : Tai Oderinde-Abeleshindogba