INTO THE VOID

People have been nurtured to believe in fate or destiny. That there is some laid out plan for each of our lives; a blueprint for all to follow, a script for us to play out. They believe that if you fall out of tune from this orchestra, then life will ultimately have no meaning. Well, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I believe in logic; the theories and laws that shape the world we live in. I believe in science, in causality, in cause and effect. I believe in gravity and heliocentrism. I believe Pythagoras’ theorem and The Laws of Motion. So what is the difference between the aforementioned people and me? We are all believers, right? Well unlike them, my beliefs are backed up with proofs, numerous evidences validating these eternal principles. Wise men of antiquity have given their lives in hours of research and experimentation to prove what they postulated. Isaac Newton; so absorbed in his scientific pursuits had no time for amorous affection and died a virgin; a monk in a way. Galileo was mocked, ridiculed and sentenced to death for claiming that the earth was not the centre of the solar system; a claim we now know to be true due to satellite imagery, a claim that governs all space expeditions. These men amongst many others have given me enough reason to believe, while those who believe in destiny do so based on baseless claims and fantasies. I do not blame our ancestors for their tales and fables. People fear what they do not understand. So the gods, the mythologies the fairytales were all excuses to cover mankind’s inability to explain certain phenomena. If the friction of clouds in the sky creates electricity that flashes and makes a loud noise, worship it and make up stories about some Zeus, Odin, Sango or Amadioha. Irrespective of the civilization, ancient humans resulted in believing supernatural events were responsible for things that happened around them that they could not fully understand. It is a system that worked. The basis of the society and political structure all rested on such beliefs. But I am perplexed at the fact that even with all the modernisation and advancement in sciences; people still choose to believe these fallacies… “Is this really your valedictory speech or an advocacy for atheism?” At the sound of the question, Xaviere pulled back the foolscap sheet he was reading so intently, looked to the direction of the sound, cracked a smile and then burst out laughing. “Father Michael will have you expelled on your last day at this school for sure” “For what, saying the truth?” “Saying what you believe is the truth. Life isn't exactly black and white. What is good or evil? What is right or wrong? Everyday these lines are blurred up. You can't just impose your opinions on people” “Brotherman, we have been in a Catholic school for 6 years...that's exactly what they have been doing” “Won't you be surprised if they didn't? It’s the Vatican value” The boys burst out laughing again. “Xaviere” Andrew said, “Just let people believe in what they choose to believe in” Andrew Paul Macpherson moved all 6 feet 2 inches of his body off the table he had been sitting on. A favourite of the basketball team, member of the St Matthew Catholic School Debate Club, 3-time interschool Chess Champion and the second smartest kid in class; second of course, only to Xaviere James Williams; his best friend. They had been friends ever since the seventh grade. It seems just like yesterday that he watched Xaviere step into class with his oversized blazer, his frail structure swimming in that big piece of clothing. His tie was not properly knotted; the tail end was longer and tucked it into a space between two buttons of the long sleeved shirt that was roughly tucked into the cream shorts. His belt buckle was all inclined to the left. The sock on his left leg was very high up and that on the right was not. He was shy and socially awkward. He sat in the front row, squinting even behind his huge square framed black glasses. “Myopic astigmatism…” Those were the first words Andrew heard his soon to be best friend say. The closest he had heard to words prior to this were the babblings of Xaviere's soliloquy when he solved his maths exercises. He was always the first to finish but never submitted first. He waited for one or two people to raise their hands before raising his; his arm bent at the elbow and fingers shaky. The boy reeked of self doubt. It was during recess that Andrew asked about his glasses and then Xaviere will go on to explain various eye defects like an Ophthalmologist. Whenever he was explaining a concept he knew well, he tends to forget his shyness. He becomes absorbed in every detail explaining it like he was the one who postulated such theories or invented those ideas. A trait Andrew secretly admired but never admitted. Those were the good old days. Xaviere's life has not exactly been the liveliest; to be honest he is a boring person incapable of creating small talk. He would immediately revert to talking about Da Vinci's Vitruvian man or some old boring stuff no one has heard of whenever he is indulged. He called it “The curse of knowledge”. His life in high school was an endless series of train wrecks with momentary commercial like breaks of happiness. Such moments included winning the 1st place price in the school Science fair, winning the interschool speed math contest and some other education related award. Andrew was the only one who made his stay St Matthew Catholic School pleasurable. Their endless debates about religion and politics, their chess games which he always insisted he let Andrew win, their book reviews; although he wasn't into the romance genre whenever it was Andrew's turn to pick a book for the week, it was always some cheeky love story. What choice did he have than to read through pages of endless fantasies about unrealistic relationships? Those were the times. But it's all over. Xaviere is now a premed at Ontario College Canada and his best friend Andrew Macpherson is taking a gap year in Africa; using the time to in his words “Discover myself”. And by self-discovery, Xaviere knew he meant endless partying and music tours. Xaviere always wondered what Andrew's fascination was with African music. With Drill and grime, that was understandable; they did school in England for 6 years but afrobeats...really? What did the blonde haired, blue eyed son of a member of the House of Lords love about Burna boy and Wizkid? “Africa is the source of everything. Remember Olduvai Gorge, the pyramids, Addis Ababa, the empire of Kush. They are our origin. Music also comes from Africa. Afrobeats is the purest form of musical art. How don't you get this? You’re Nigerian” Andrew said gesticulating like he was in a heated parliamentary argument. Throwing his hands when he spoke was a habit he picked up because of his regular debating. “My father is Nigerian” Xaviere responded. “I am Canadian. Yes, my father is Igbo from Enugu in Nigeria but my mother is Canadian and I was born in Canada, hence by UN law of naturalization I am a citizen of Canada which makes me Canadian”. “Why does everything have to be a damn lecture with you bruv? Just enjoy the music” Andrew said. He must really be enjoying the music now. “Gap years are luxuries only these rich white men who do not know what to do with their money can afford”. That was Mr. Chinedu Williams response when his son told him about what Andrew Macpherson intended to do. “You will study hard, like you have always done and make this family proud. Biko don't let this opportunity pass you by. I know what I had to do to make it to Canada. If you know how I spent time in Aba market selling goods for my uncle...” Xaviere's father then proceeded to tell one of his “From grass to grace stories”. These stories Xaviere knew all too well. Although whenever Mr. Chinedu told these stories, he did so with fresh vigor as though he has never told them before. But Xaviere didn't need to be reminded to study hard. He did study hard. He enjoyed studying. He has been studying for a long time. That's how he got the highest score on the Catholic Cardinals’ Scholarship Examination that got him into St Matthew Catholic School; the all boys boarding school for the rich and affluent. He studied, that is how he became valedictorian. He wished he could tell his father this but talking back to this man who sacrificed everything to make his life better would be the ultimate disrespect. In situations like this all he could do was nod and listen. He studied hard because it was his duty as a first son; an Okpala to bring glory to the family name. He studied that is how he got into Ontario College Canada on 90% scholarship. Now, sitting in a seat at the back of the Humanities lecture theatre, he was making his parents proud. He was doing it. Following the blueprints his father had drawn out. It was a dilemma for him; that he was so accomplished yet so unfulfilled. Nothing had really changed; here he was boredom laden, sitting through a psychology lecture, uninterested, the professor blabbering on about behavior patterns and genetics. Nothing this man said was striking to him; theories by Sigmund Freud, Tim LaHayes temperament analysis, not even zodiac signs. While these concepts might wow regular college students and it did wow them, this was child's play to him. The only reason he was offering this course was because he chose it over Evolution. That would have even been more torture; having some marine biologist talk about Darwin and Lamarck. “Excuse me, is this psychology 101” “Yes it is and you're 15 minutes late” “I'm so sorry; I got confused on my way here and went to the Faculty of Life Sciences” “That's a first. People normally get lost in Management” The class burst out laughing “What is your name young lady?” “Petrichor” the girl answered “Patricia?” “No sir, it is not Patricia, not Pamela, not Palomar. My name is Petrichor” she said very sternly this time. “Like the smell of sand after rain” Xaviere quipped. The whole class turned their heads towards the direction of the voice; that British accent, in the direction of Xaviere. There he was seated upright with his afro and glasses. The hair and eye defect he had gotten from his mother. But his beautiful caramel colored skin was all his father's doing. Xaviere, this shy nerdy kid who has never spoken two complete sentences to a female without stammering just said the meaning of this tardy girls name audibly enough for a class of 50 to hear him from behind. “OK then that settles it. Miss Petrichor, you’re welcome please take your seat.” Xaviere suddenly became very attentive, gazing at the Professor Edward Muller and stealing glances at this female with an eccentric name. He did not fully understand what was happening to him. Just a few moments ago this was a boring class. Now here he was, tingling like the taste buds of that dog in Pavlov’s experiment. Like a golden retriever his ears were perked. He did not really know what was going on. But he just wanted to this girl’s attention. “This has been a very interesting introductory class. Please go through the books and do your research. Our next class would be even more interactive and interesting depending on how well you read. Stay in school and don't do drug kids.” The class burst out laughing. The lecture was over. Although it was just 35 minutes since she came in, it felt like eternity. Xaviere made a few contributions and answered some questions to the admiration of his course mates and Professor. But the mystery girl was not interested. For a man who did not believe in destiny or fate, he was pretty convinced that his being in this class today at that exact moment with this young woman was more than mere coincidence. This is not the first time he has tried to get a girls attention though. His mind suddenly remembered Mary Peters.