PRISONERS OF HOPE
Ishola Eniola Daniella
This piece reflects the delicate line between hopelessness, hope and what I think hope is.
It’s also a piece that I hope people will read and think about in ways even I, the author, didn’t think about.
Prisoners of hope simply means, somehow, someway we’ve all been held captive by hope, whether that is a good thing or a bad thing is purely subjective.
Hopelessness isn’t bad, and hope isn’t good. Hopelessness isn’t good, and hope isn’t bad. Just two sides of the same coin.
PRISONERS OF HOPE
Usually, hope would whisper gently in my ears, and I would pretend to be deaf.
She would wave her tiny hands in my face, smiling widely, and I would pretend to be blind.
He would talk about his big dreams, and I would feign indifference.
Perhaps, I have spent too much time looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, and now I have accepted the cold, dark loneliness of the tunnel.
Maybe, where others see a bright future, all I see is a dark present.
What use is hope?
People are dying, the planet is crumbling. What shall I use hope to do?
Does hope only work in an anticipated future?
I sit with a pen in my hand, and a notebook in front of me. Eureka!!!!!
I think I figured it out! I know!!
I know what hope is!! I know who it is!!
Hope is the woman that goes to work everyday, and comes back to her family, tired and exhausted, but ready to pour love into her home.
Hope is the man that strives to cater for his family, amidst the chaos that is life.
Hope is the elderly woman that sets up a stall by the roadside everyday to make ends meet.
Hope is the little girl and boy that hawk their goods in the Lagos traffic, never wavering in a system that is against them.
Hope is the child that goes to school everyday despite an uncertain future.
Hope is every human being striving to live another day whilst going through an active genocide.
Hope is You.
Hope is Me.
Hope is everyone that wants to make life easier for others.