Eromo Egbejule: Suppose the world ends today… (30 Days, 30 Voices)

I’d hate that I hadn’t tried to protest the actions or inactions of government and my fellow citizens and that indirectly I’d been involved in the demolition at Maroko and the eventual end of the world.

Life is too short to “remove USB safely”. Or so I have heard.

Remember that 2009 Roland Emmerich hit disaster flick, 2012, starring Nigerian-born Chiwetel Ejiofor based on one of the various apocalyptic prophecies suggesting that the world could end in July or October or December of 2012? Of course, every non-delusional human must have realized a long time ago that these stories are just as truthful as rumours of Oprah Winfrey getting a divorce.

But then remember the Lagos state government’s reason for demolishing the Makoko settlement on the Lagos lagoon? Negative impact on the environment.

Well, suppose a viral substance long dormant somewhere in the shanty town since the days of Bashorun Gaa or Aare Ona Kakanfo was unearthed mistakenly during the Makoko demolition exercise and the world plunged into ephemeral midday darkness after a lightning bolt streaks through the sky like the cracks in the ceiling boards of a haunted house.

When light returns, 90 percent of the world’s population is dead or missing. Lovers disunited, families separated, internet connectivity cut off, phone lines down and electric power gone. You and a select few remain. Perhaps y’all were pinging or you had sunglasses on or you were sleeping or thankfully, praying. Somehow though, you were focused on some other surface other than those the Sun was reflected upon, or the solar body itself. You know it without being told, that this is the end of the world.

What would you do? Or what would you wish you had done?


First, let’s establish a few things.

  • There is no world to save and hence no need to contribute my quota to world peace;
  • The exposure of this viral substance has damaged the ozone layer beyond repair and so I cannot save the environment.
  • For the duration of this piece, there is no such thing as a religion (I am a Christian in real life though);
  • Hopefully, I’d be in bed, with the delectable and oh-so-hot Mila Kunis (make that Jessica Alba or Meagan Good for the parts 2 and 3, should a petition for sequels arise from the Black Women Appreciation Society) sleeping beside me. Note please, that the preposition used is “beside”, not “with”. The latter is for a later action;
  • For some silly reason, I am wearing Louis Vuitton sunglasses IN BED! So we are both saved and
  • Lastly, there is no other living human around us for as much as a 20, 000km radius.


First, I’ll confirm that the internet, my greatest addiction is not up and running and that other essential utility services have been disrupted. Then I’d go to a car dealer’s and get meself a Range Rover Sport only, for navigational purposes, drive to the closest gas stations nearby and take fuel, subsidized at full rate.

Next, I’d hit the banks on my street, practically knocking myself for forgetting to Google while I still could, the bank honoured to have the safes of Dangote and Adenuga in its possession. I’ll stash as much cash as can fill the Thames.

After that, I’ll get to the closest shopping mall closest to me and propel my legs to the Levi and Channel stores to get stuff for the missus and I; stuff that I’d only been privileged to see only in catalogues and when window shopping.

Off I’d go to Shoprite and jejely select from the variety on display, an inexhaustible range of chow that will keep Mila/Jessica/Meagan and I from starving to death.

Then, I’d drive home and sit to think about the things I could have done.


I’d regret not spending more time with the parents and my siblings and especially want to be kicked in the butt for not appreciating hourly, the sacrifice the former made to ensure that I became a man they are mostly proud of.

Also, I’d wish I had more friends and I’d most certainly I was more outgoing and vivacious. Thoughts of the birthday parties of now-missing friends, that I’d missed going to, would sting me.

My eyes would wet while reminiscing that I’d shrugged off the occasional beggar who’d looked at me with pleading eyes and motioning lips as I came down from the BRT bus.

I’d hate that I hadn’t tried to protest the actions or inactions of government and my fellow citizens and that indirectly I’d been involved in the demolition at Maroko and the eventual end of the world.

My heart would cringe because I’d now know that I could’ve pursued my goals aspirations with more drive and ambition

The truth that I’d been cut off from the rest of the world would eventually sink in. Gradually, I’d come to full realization of how possession of everything doesn’t guarantee full happiness.

If it were you, what would you wish you had or hadn’t done?

Life is too short to procrastinate doing what is right or what has to be done. This I know.


About 30 Days 30 Voices: The series is an opportunity for young Nigerians to share their stories and experiences with

One comment

  1. Jeez,just stumbled on this today.So nice to see this…Please how can I post my own story.

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