I love the toilet. My best pieces have been inspired or written while I sat on a toilet tube.
In the toilet, the walls of distraction crumbles like that of Jerico and leaves you with an unimaginable access to creativity. Uncle Lexy knows this. He used to be a writer before the intensity of life’s hustle scuttled his passion. Writers flourish in the toilet.
I pity those people – or writers – who don’t have access to a toilet. I want to believe that this is why we’ve seen a decline in the number of good writers in Nigeria.
Let’s take for instance, those living in face-me-I-face-you apartments. Here, many people share the same toilet. You won’t even spend one minute inside the toilet before an impatient co-tenant yells “Oga, abeg do fast. Person dey wait for you!”
Not even on days when you have a running stomach. They won’t be kind to you. They don’t care. In fact, you had to wait on the queue before it got to your turn. When you entered the toilet, you had it at the back of your mind that numerous heavily pressed folks are waiting for you. So, you try to minimise time. Thereby, stifling your chances of a toilet imagination.
Many potential good writers live in this kind of condition. No wonder Nigeria has been declining in writing.
Me, I thank God that I have a toilet where I can spend up to thirty minutes. The toilet is my fortress. My engine room of imaginations. When I’m short of what to write, I take a trip to the toilet. Sometimes, the toilet is all I need.
If Nigeria wants to improve in writing, then we need to build more toilets. What makes it more interesting is the fact that this post was actually written in the toilet!