On my way back from CDS today, something happened that made me realize just how much fear and bad news have started affecting the way I see people.
A Hausa man — or rather, an Aboki — stopped our vehicle and entered. Before we even drove off properly, another mallam flagged us down and handed the driver a box to deliver somewhere.
Fifteen minutes later, we picked another Aboki. Then another.
That was three of them in the vehicle, plus a mysterious box. Deep down, I knew they were genuine business people — they even had their market on their heads — but my mind kept racing.
They were speaking their language, and I couldn’t tell whether they knew each other or if it was pure coincidence. Even though Port Harcourt is relatively safe and we were on a major road, my anxiety didn’t care.
No matter how much I reminded myself that “not everyone is evil,” fear kept creeping in. And honestly, I blame the constant stream of terrible news we consume daily. It’s reshaping how we see people, making us suspicious of innocent strangers for no reason.
As corps members, they warn us repeatedly:
Don’t travel in uniform.
Don’t walk around alone in uniform.
Always be alert.
Always protect yourself.
Three days of intense security lectures drilled all that deep into our heads.
So there I was — me and my colleague, in full khaki — feeling like actual targets for no real reason.
I don’t even know what to say anymore. Maybe I do need a break from social media. Or at least retrain my algorithm, because I can’t keep misjudging innocent people.
I don’t want fear to turn me into someone I’m not.
Written by Ifeoma Bassey
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