It Takes A Step Or None At All
Featuring: A Four Year old Photograph of a Coursemate From Uni
“For my 21 to 25-year-olds, I see this time as a time of pressure and change. Life does not have part two but it gives you many chances at healing and growth. This is one of those ages…You are learning. Learning about certain inalienable truths - you are not special, money is hard to come by and you’re not sure about what you want or who you are…You are not behind. You are on your path…”
— Excerpt from “getting older and turning 30”, by
15th October, 2019. It has been 1,411 days since I took this photo on my first camera, a Nokia 3.1. It is one of my earliest photographs—one of the few from my teen years.
I did not want to be a photographer when I took it. I did not want to be anything. I was not philosophical or hopeless either; I just did not care. Today, I do. I care so much I have hidden my clipper and scissors away because this is no time to be captured by the Philistines. This, too, shall pass.
Like many of my photographs from my young career, I did not plan to create this one. It was the most memorable time; it was the most forgettable time. My days were filled with wonted tours through the Chapel, lecture halls, hostels, and cafeterias. Of course, I was often more present at the latter two. The bliss of sleep was second only to the opportunity to eat more ewa agoyin or egg rolls.
This photograph found us on one of such tours, from a lecture hall to the hostel, I presume. It was like most days, largely unremarkable in hindsight. Hence, I cannot lie that I recall anything else but a minute before this photo was taken—when I became vividly aware of the frame, stopped walking, clicked the shutter button and decided I was somewhat satisfied with what I got.
It would be nearly six months later, during the lockdown, before it became what it is today: black and white, instantly nostalgic, a welcome memory for the many who recognise those three trees and the winding footpaths, those who remember the simple joys of walking from anywhere back to our rooms.
I wasted it, the easier years. When not doing enough was less consequential and showing up was half the battle. But what good is regret after mishaps have been acknowledged? Of course, I messed up.
Today too will pass, and 1,461 days will follow. I will live, write, photograph, and learn, or do nothing at all. You could join me if you'd like—not like you have a choice. See you in 2027. Ready or not.
Last Time: The World is Your Spotlight
A Streetlight Portrait of the Artiste known as Blainboy
A little over a year ago, I met Stephen, preferably known as Blainboy, the subject of today’s photograph. The Port-Harcourt boy with a knack for style, stories for days, and the confidence of a man who bet on his horse because it was his horse. He was a lot of things, but sure he would win was the thing you could not miss about him.
Today’s newsletter is dedicated to the memory of Victor Ntui Etta. Our time spent talking was not enough.
And to everyone who’s been reading through August, thank you. I will see you next Sunday,
Be kinder to yourself,
Tam Olobio