Growing as every other going child on the globe, I had a tinge of excitement. It was so much fun having to play with my siblings in a safe space called home, in an environment void of insecurity. It felt so good to have my parents get my siblings and I ready for school, church, birthdays and other public functions. We were always under their watch. Days transcended to weeks, which elapsed to months, at last the years passed, and I budded into a wonderful teenager full of dreams. I aspired to become an entertainment celebrity. Security was the least of my burdens, as my teachers and other administrative staff were burdened with that task for me and everyone else, as it was the case in the Presbyterian boarding school I resided in as a student. My parents worried more, hoping their daughter doesn’t get involved in some peer pressure mishap, or physical abuse of some sort. Their worry at this level usually got intense during holidays, as I had to mingle with others of my age group in the neighborhood, actually a new one we had moved into, upon the beginning of my secondary school journey. We all were oblivious of the plague that was going to hit us in the years ahead.
My time in secondary school passed well, but I got enrolled into a public school now to pursue my high school education. Life here was nothing like the boarding school. It seemed more like jungle to me, as everyone’s security depended first solely on their ability to exercise self discipline. I became exposed to a whole different kind of life. I made some friends, whom before I can think of blaming for a second now, for being the reason why I wrote my GCE Advanced Level exams thrice before I could make it to the university, I blame myself first!, for throwing away all the moral guidance and self discipline training I had amassed from a Christian boarding school and a decent home.
Eventually, I emerged a well groomed lady, entwined in the euphoria that comes with the obligations of attaining certain qualifications, worthy to meet the ranks of the elite class. This time around, I didn’t loose guard of my dreams and focus. Just like everyone else going about their business, I was busy with mine not until my community, a safe abode, becomes a breeding ground for armed militia, and a reason for radicalism, vandalism, and every other sort of violence imaginable to thrive. All credits to the unforeseen and unimaginable plague that had befallen us. I woke up daily to unending news about arbitrary arrests, rampant kidnappings, homelessness, rise in the orphaned population, economic stand still, social discrimination, and much more. More people were getting vulnerable and desperate over time. In effect to the occupation of a once secured and peaceful habitat by these monsters, insecurity and unrest became the order of the day. Peace seemingly became the most rarest commodity to find and most expensive to afford.
I got trapped in a scenario, where I leave from home to work and back, having to balance the glaring realities with work obligations daily. It was either a helpless trader lamenting at her daughter who had been sexually assaulted, or her son who had now become a vandal, or a young man who has been toiling to earn a decent living weeping at the aftermath of a ruthless burglary, that has left him with nothing to hold on to. I couldn’t get through with a single routine hospital visit without seeing futures of young aspiring girls packaged and served to them at the maternity as teenage motherhood, and maybe future single parenthood, as a result of the crisis. The type which for some reason unexplainable seemed impossible to be managed by the government my community had elected as their own participation to nation building through exploiting their rights to exhibit their civic duties. I got caught up in live action on the streets, amidst a perturbed crowd on a rampage, scouting for a place to seek sojourn from perceived danger, from armed militia.
After surviving one of such runs, I took my stand to get involved in the conflict that had stolen lives and separated families. I decided I wasn’t going to be observing and lamenting from the side, but will be one of those monitoring and resolving in every way I can. “But how had racial discrimination and marginalization fanned a socioeconomic crisis, into a full blown sociopolitical crisis of this big a magnitude, such that numerous unending social problems now became the standard of living amidst the glaring insecurity and stability? How did things get here, at a point when you can’t express yourself because you can’t identify to a superior ethnicity? How could one be judged just because they are from an assumed low class society?”, I pondered endlessly. My journey as an advocate against clandestine behavior began. I got involved with several organizations, especially nongovernmental, that provides multiple solutions for direful cases. It dawned on me as a democratic citizen as I was expected to believe that maybe my government too needs me to do my part, as part of the government, to help them resolve this crisis. The decision to help my government, from the angle of managing social problems as a youth impact leader was made. Every opportunity available to make my voice heard and impact someone such that they can start dealing with the scars of insecurity and unrest was exploited to full capacity by me. My idea of possible solutions from a psychological point, the ability for the affected to understand their present state, to a mental point of consciously deciding to accept that they have to move forward, and above all actively themselves in their recovery process by first starting to share their stories (as a sign of courage to overcome the pain), became of utmost importance and top priority to me.
The voice of purpose sounded even clearer, as the media updated me constantly of other communities facing the challenge of insecurity and unrest because of racial discrimination and sociocultural misconceptions. I watched communities like Rohingyans and Micronesians, just to name a few, struggling daily to live in peace, undisturbed without being attacked either physically, emotionally, socially, and even mentally. I am currently exploring the impact of racial equity as a crisis management tool and eventually conflict resolution. I hope to see upcoming generations grow experiencing the same peace and security I had access to. This dilemma was the last strike that opened my eyes to fulfill my purpose as a racial equity activist, and the suffering it caused was the source of my passion. Amongst the sweetest achievements ever, has been the opportunity to share my story to the world, and then World Pulse comes along offering their platform for this purpose. I could never have felt happier at the consciousness that my idea stands a chance to reach other communities with a similar challenge. It is on this note that I call on everyone in any part of the world who has heard the purpose call to join me restore global peace and security in their own way. My journey to restore global peace and security starting from my community through racial equity as a woman just began.