“Where there is a will, there is a way”.

I could have written epistles to commemorate the events of this year but I figured, I would simply write from my heart. So here goes!

2022.

I’ll start with the obvious. I went about my regular life; library, cafe shops and home, until February 24th. It still feels surreal and somehow I don’t remember details days before but I can recall quite clearly the hours before and after the invasion.

February, 23,2022.

I’d been to the library a day before as was and still is my routine. Returned home a few minutes past 6 pm, watched a few TikTok videos ( I was so low at the time and I needed something to distract me. It worked for some time at least), and had dinner. The events of the year have blurred some of my memories but I recall, my roommate cooked dinner. Something tells me it was Jollof rice. But that’s just one piece of this story.

Due to the severe anxiety I was dealing with, I struggled with sleep. My sleep cycle was so messed up I had to indulge binaural beats, meditation yoga and sleep sounds on Spotify to help calm my nerves and induce sleep. I can’t say it was completely successful. Eventually though, I think just about 10pm I slept off.

February, 24,2022.

By 4;30am my phone rang and rang ceaselessly until I picked it up. My friend Gozie was on the phone! “Orly, are you safe?” Why? Of course I am. You woke me up from sleep. “ Russia has invaded Ukraine”. This began the travail and series of sad, overwhelming emotions I endured for the next couple of months.

I recall saying often in the last few days how blurry the year has been. In fact, so blurry I had to recall most of the year’s events only after I’d gone through the photo archives on my phone. At some point while glossing through the photos , I remember just stopping abruptly to yell, rather quietly: so all of this happened this year?! I can’t decide yet if this attitude is my subconscious response to psychological stress or maybe I’ve just always processed life like this. Quite genuinely difficult to tell. You know, things kept happening too fast it became almost impossible to pause and process.

I did not have the smoothest experience with friends this year, either, I’m afraid to admit. And I’d be grateful if my friends still have a soft spot for me. After all that has happened and still is happening, I barely had space in my head for others. It’s also possible that I’ve always been this person- you know, distant, introverted, maybe and the current situation only just amplified it. For my siblings and family, I think it was different . Mostly because I made the conscious effort to not be distant even while struggling to get a grip on all the events going on at the same damn time.

Phew!

January. No scratch that, I remember December of 2021. Cold, as usual but it’s mostly easy to remember because I was burnt out. I checked out for the year much early in the first week of December and honestly now that I think of it, it’s still a miracle how I managed to get through the rest of the weeks after that. I was so mentally exhausted and drained. Then came January 2022. And February. And then 4:30 am, February 24th. The rest of the year, as I said before, is blurred.

A few days ago, my friend asked me somewhat enthusiastically, what’s your plan for the new year. I surprised myself with the scratchy and sarcastic laughter first, then a half-hearted reply next. “ Survive, I’m just going to survive”. Of course, she found it amusing, unexpected yes, but amusing. Survive? She asked. Yes, survive, I responded. I wrote a long list of things in January yet nowhere did I foresee a war or the events that followed. So yes, the main goal for next year is survival. We held a quiet moment together and then eventually she said, ‘fair point’.

Nigerians have a funny way of creating new words to describe life and the toll of adulthood. The recent one is Shege. This year, we saw shege. A collective despair and despondence that words fail me to describe. Most of us, young adults working really hard to graduate medical school and get our lives together just barely a year after the pandemic. Well, we are all praying, hoping, that next year will have no resemblance to this year. We want to breathe. You know, deep, long, reliving gusts of air from the deepest part of our lungs.

It will be 2023 in a few hours. Here's my prayer for the new year:

May your days light up with more happiness than you ever imagined.

May the sun shine its rays and magnificence through the darkest crevices of your life.

May the universe crown your days with joy and laughter.

May you find ease as you tour through life.

You grieved silently, yet, in the coming year, I pray you never have to cry in muffled tones while others sleep.

May you find help and helpers in times of need.

May you heal in the places you hurt.

May you experience peace.

On the days your arms are weary and ripped, utterly exhausted from the chaos and throes of life, may you be surrounded by love and support for the days ahead.

Like the Igbo child Òbiánuju, may the rest of your days be crowned in plenty and abundance.

May the new year bring tales of good news, comfort, serenity, love, health, unity, security, verve and new air.

May the new year bring a ton of fortunes your way, opportunities you never dreamed of, people you wouldn’t have thought of and incredible success on your adventures.

May the God you believe in endue you with the ability to survive amidst all the bumps of the previous years and if you do not believe in God, may your Chi guide your feet and shield you as you journey through life.

This new year, you thrive.

Bloom. Prosper. Blossom. Florish.

Have a wonderful 2023.

Happy new year in advance.

My love and best wishes,

Christabel.

❤️