You forcefully open the double doors to your room to see your reflection in the large spotless mirror staring at you, as you try to avoid the Master. Your image kills the mustard seed of hope you have been trying to nurture – your eyes exhausted from too many tears. Your lips are chapped, and the glory of your skin is in the past - your beautiful skin as your mother would remark. You wonder if it’s because of its fairness or the hairless sight of it, or the chubby feeling when touched. And then you reckon the eyes of your mother are not yours. Your beauty lies in your freedom, you think to yourself. You affirm that you don’t belong here, not in this castle with grey walls, lofty ceilings, and heavy brown curtains. Not viewing ancient paintings of wars. Not on a bed for a crowd and certainly not wearing these expensive clothes too pure to smear. You recall the first day of your arrival at your new home. You were greeted by a servant who avoided your eyes as he bowed his head and sai...

"Have you heard what is going on in town now?"
"Oh that one na old news sef...na so we see am o my brother. Wetin we fit do? Na only God fit help us..."
And then there might be committees set up to combat the negative views of the given news; a way of looking into the issue by the government. In no time there will be new news to take its place and the ball just won't stop rolling.
Unemployment has not always been, but it is now the Normalcy Talk like "no water, light, food, housing, etc. When it becomes normal it becomes accepted comfortably like a prodigal son returning home. It becomes celebrated via speeches, conferences, songs, films and the like, still it never goes away...Stalemate. Are you a Normalcy Talker? Aren't we all?
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