The Light at the End of the Tunnel Was GREEN.

Surviving a pandemic in the unemployment capital of the world.

***********************************************************************A moment happened on June 6. This moment has stayed with me and festered for over a month. Every time I think back to this moment, the more it speaks to me.

It was a moment I knew I had to capture. I'm not a photographer by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I just counted and I have only six selfies on my camera roll, the last of which was taken in February. I am not a person who takes pictures. But, there was something about that moment that needed to be captured, because it was so profound.

Today I revisited that moment and captured yet another picture. The whole experience starting from June 6th till today July 20th has been very inspiring to me. I hope by the end of this article, it is inspiring to you to.

Here is the picture I took today.

I know. This picture isn't Insta-ready. There's no filter, the color is kinda washed out. Right now to you, this is just a plain old plant.

But you see dear reader, this isn't just any plant. There is meaning to this plant and for you to understand why, I must start at the beginning.

Around February of 2020, all over the world the news of the Coronavirus had begun spreading.

I live in Nigeria. I love Nigeria. It is a place full of heart, laughter, strong people, and a lot of love.

Still, it is the country with the largest number of people living in extreme poverty. According to CNN's 2018 report:

Nigeria has overtaken India as the country with the largest number of people living in extreme poverty, with an estimated 87 million Nigerians, or around half of the country's population, thought to be living on less than $1.90 a day.

The prospect of a pandemic was too gruesome for a country already dealing with so much poverty.

But one cannot will a pandemic away and by February 27th, 2020, the first case of the Coronavirus was confirmed in Nigeria. Within days, the numbers were rising.

It shook up EVERYTHING.

A country whose people were already running on empty started seeing offices and businesses shut down. Jobs were being lost. To realize the gravity of this you must understand that even before the virus, a lot of these jobs were paying staff as low as N20,000 ($53) a month. This was a big deal.

By May 7th, my state was officially on lock down.

The following weeks were the hardest. People calling in to the radio said the same thing:

The virus will not kill us, the hunger will.

People were literally not eating because they had no means to pile up food or "save for the rainy day". Children were out of school and forced to stay with parents who had to find a way to provide sustenance.

Like with any country, there were the affluent to whom the virus was only a mere inconvenience, but to the many, this was a matter of life and death.

When the lockdown was eventually lifted, the people who live in my side of town came together and did something so beautiful, so profound that it still sits with me today.

They decided to come together and plant a seed.

A symbol of hope. A symbol of restoration. A symbol of better days. A symbol of growth.

Masks on and practicing social distancing regulations, these people already living on nothing found the will to not only continue going on amidst the times, but to also encourage others with the hope of a better tomorrow.

This picture was taken on the day the seed was planted. 6th June, 2020.

It wasn't much. It wasn't fancy, and it wasn't a spectacle.

But it was powerful.

That moment inspired a poem I wrote later that day. I called it The Light at the End of the Tunnel Was Green. I hope you like it.

We planted a seed in the ground

Not too long after, the storm came pouring

The skies greyed and the sun didn't shine

Overnight, our dreams drowned

We searched with flashlights and candles

Ran out of batteries and matchsticks

We stood in the darkness

Hands intertwined with the other, we waited for a sign

We moved forward not knowing where we went

The grounds were muddy, sticky, wooden scents

At the end of the tunnel we saw green

Bold and bright, color like we'd never seen

It led us back into the daylight

One lone seed restored our collective sight.

I've sat with this moment for over a month and these are a couple of things I want to say.

1. There is no reason not to wear a mask or follow social distancing guidelines. If even the poorest of people here in Nigeria can make DIY masks and wear them as they stand over an open grill roasting corn all day, then discomfort isn't enough of a reason not to wear a mask. Please be kind enough to look out for the other. It costs you nothing.

2. The Light at the End of the Tunnel Was Green is a very hopeful poem to me and the message I take from it is: the smallest seed can bring forth the biggest tree. A little act of kindness goes a long way. The seeds we planted before the pandemic (little savings here and there, little life-skills we learned way back when, a Vocal sign-up I made 2 years ago) are what have now blossomed and are keeping a lot of people afloat. Nobody knows what tomorrow holds. Take that chance, make that saving, write that first post, sow that seed. Tomorrow, that might just be the thing that'll grow into big bright leaves and pull you back to the light.

3. Give back. The people who came together didn't financially have too much to give. What they had was the ability to give hope and so they gave that perhaps not even thinking it would affect anybody the way it did. Please give back whenever you can. With your actions, with your resources if you can, find a way to give back as much as you can. It really does go a long way.

We're all in this together. Around the globe. Hand in hand we're fighting this virus and hoping for the day it is all behind us.

Until then, please let's continue to be kind and to show as much love as we possibly can to those around us.

We will get out of this dark tunnel. I can see it already. The light at the end of the tunnel is green.

If you liked this, please leave a tip if you can. Every dollar counts and goes such a long way for me + I'll appreciate it forever. If you can't tip, please leave a like. Those always mean the absolute world to me as well.

I love you so much. Until next time, have a wonderful rest of your day.