Whose house am I going to sleep tonight?

I tried to close my eyes on my bed, but the thoughts in my head and the pressure from my window gave me a sleepless night.

I knocked on my friend’s door, but he is out there struggling to buy fuel even at 11pm.

I packed my bag, heading for my father’s house, but kidnappers have taken over the roads, and train services have been halted for fear of attacks.

Whose child am I gonna be tonight?

If I am a government child, I may end up becoming a yahoo boy because I have spent many idle months out of school due to my lecturers’ strike.

If I was no man’s child, I could be harassed, raped, kidnapped, maimed or killed without even making it to the evening news.

Yes, I am my father’s child, but he lost his job, we can barely afford two-square meals, going to school has become a luxury, and the business he tried his hands on was hit by the bad economy, terrible government policies, inflation, insecurity, high cost of living and the absence of basic amenities.

Which region am I going to claim tonight?

I could have been from Benue, but armed herdsmen have destroyed farmlands and killed farmers at will.

I could have been a Kaduna boy, but terrorists have finally settled down there and made that place their stronghold.

I’d love to hail from Ondo, but I can’t go to church to worship my creator and pray with my two eyes closed.

I even look like someone from Owerri, but my brothers over there have turned against their own people, killing them in the most gruesome manner.

They say I will be better as a Lagosian, but I almost got drowned by a flood the other day, while some of my neighbours could not make it out alive.

I rushed to Abuja, the centre of unity, but gunshots from 300 Boko Haram members disorganised my Kuje community and we have never remained the same again.

Who among my friends am I going to visit tonight?

David, in a desperate move to leave the country, has agreed to give out his kidney to the daughter of a big man.

Nuru, who we often hang out with for a drink every weekend, has stopped taking my calls because we don’t have the same political interest for the next elections.

Which denomination am I going to worship tonight?

I was a Christian Catholic the other day, but my mother was shot dead right inside the church.

I switched to a Pentecostal church, but my aunt was kidnapped, ransom collected and still got killed by unknown gunmen.

I was angry and dropped Christianity for Islam, but some of my fellow worshippers take laws into their hands by lynching their fellow humans and setting them ablaze.

I was disgusted and chose to be a traditionalist, but the military has destroyed all the shrines in my village and my leader has been shot dead, now I don’t have anyone to fellowship with.

Whose house am I gonna sleep in tonight?

I am now left roaming on the streets in the middle of the night, a much more dangerous place to be, and the next morning uncertain.

I don’t know where and how the morning will meet me. I am just hoping and wishing and praying that it doesn’t get worse when tomorrow comes.

Israel is a journalist and can be reached via [email protected]