When the cassette tape played, I was seldom interested in the lyrics—how likely was a 6-year-old to care? Yet I could feel sorrow, compassion, and sadness in the singer’s voice. I imagined someone hurting her. Was she hit, betrayed, lonely? Her voice held a mystery I wanted to uncover, but she was miles away from me. Since I could not unravel the enigma, I let the thought go. As I grew older, my mother did not grow tired of playing the cassette tape. I could not hide from hearing it either, unless I could afford a roof over my head. One evening, during the holiday and with no homework to attend to, I had to ask her. ‘Mum, who’s this person always sad when they’re singing?’ ‘You mean all this time, you don’t know it’s Dolly Parton? And who told you she’s sad? When you truly express how you feel, it is not always a sad tale, my girl. Do you even know what this song playing is about?’ ‘Yes, ma. It’s her coat of many colours, just like the one Joseph had, right?’ ‘Eh en. Only hers was give...
There’s absolutely no big deal about this lockdown and the coronavirus outbreak. Despite my tentative unemployment and fear of the unknown, the shutdown means nothing. It is like another sixty-day public holiday. The type you get for no reason – like the collision of a few work-free days and some weekends. So that instead of closing on a Friday and resuming work on Monday, you enjoy your bliss from Thursday till Wednesday. Then the churches are closed. All football matches are cancelled. And there is a compulsion to spend this normal public holiday at home with your family. Exactly this is what the lockdown is for me. And there are no lessons to learn anew. No "aha" moments of any kind. Life is the same and there is no newness under the sun. The only exceptions are the things I noticed. One of such is that Zainab (my immediately younger sister) and I do not see issues in the same light. She was a youth corper in Ibadan until the family convinced her to come home, just bef...