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Something about sitting in a dark living room and watching the scented candle elegantly wave it's flame back and forth reminds me of what it is like to dream
I'm not talking about the kind of dreams I dream now; dreams of world travel and career opportunities
I'm talking about bigger dreams. Dreams the magnitude of a mother's love for her infant.
Dreams you dream as a child before the world slowly fills your ears with sweet whispers of doubt
Before your heart is clouded with fear and "realism"
I'm talking about the times when I believed, truly believed that I could change the world, that we could change the system.
That Nigeria could become a safe, uncorrupted, ideal country.
That women all over the world would one day suffer no harm, no violence, no injustice just because of their gender.
The days I had such a strong faith in the world and in humanity
Days, I believed that people with my dreams did not surround me but I would grow older and find these people who so adamantly believe in change who dream the dreams I have dreamt all along
We would grow camaraderie, bonded by our desire for change
By our disgust at the Nigerian government, by patriotism
That we would build a dynasty so powerful that it would rise and extinguish injustice
That we would in fact change the world
The days I believed Nigeria was a country worth dying for
But there is a sad tune that comes with age
It slowly dawns on you that you are not the first to have these dreams
If others could not change the system, why should I think I can?
It feels like my fingers have grown longer, physically but they would never be long enough, never be wide enough to touch every corner of the world that needs healing, that needs change
There was a time I felt like an Amazon
A time when I did not doubt the size of my arms, the potential of their reach
But as I grow older, I start to feel smaller
Like a mustard seed lying in a vast dry desert filled with white grainy sand
I would never grow enough to fully stand
Or when I do, I would have given into realism and abandoned the belief that I, of all people could change the system.
Maybe this is my necessary path to wisdom
Maybe I'm just realizing that there is a right time for the reality of a dream to be birthed
Maybe I need to give myself more time
But I wonder how I would know when I get there
How would I know when my fingers are long enough?
How would I know when the hands of the clock are perfectly aligned?
I guess time would have to tell
But in the interim, I have to keep my dreams away form the red line
Fight the cynicism embedded in the threads of the very same world I am trying to change
I need to rediscover how to dream like a child.
It's 4:18 AM, sleep is finally welcoming me home. I watch the candle flame kiss the glass one last time and blow its light out remembering one of my favorite quotes:
"The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do."
Sweet dreams...
