The present lock down across the country has seen the birth of different activities–challenges, dares, online courses and quizzes just to mention a few–all in a bid to fight the boredom.
For persons born into a mismanagement-plagued African capitalist society that has perpetual engagement, slaving, drudgery and toil as the hallmarks of success, young people in the universities seem to be the most hit by the boredom and they have taken up these anti-boredom activities with such vigour that can either leave you amused or disgusted–depends on who you are.
Send me an anonymous message, I won’t know who wrote it.
As extreme as this sounds but it calls for concern if there is anyone who is not familiar with this sentence by now; if you weren’t previously, this lockdown has made you. Kubool’s anonymous messenger lets people drop you “a friendly message” or at most tell you stuff they don’t like about you—if they don’t tell you how much they want to fuck you and spank your ass, that is. Yes, e be things.
And of course, it
was is fun.
Like most simple initiatives and ideas, this also got taken to the next level by the innovation of some person who dared thinking outside the box—whether this was out of boredom or genius is not in question.
our class an anonymous message, me we won’t know who wrote it. Same game, same procedures, but different purpose. You send an anonymous message about your class—observation, suggestion, grievance and confession of affection and subsequently the answers get posted on the class Whatsapp group. I
Close your eyes.
Everyone is now talking about who they want to fuck, whose work they want to eat, whose nipples they want to feast on, who has a killer ass, who likes to fuck both men and women, who fucked who behind an abandoned building, who doesn’t care who they fuck, who should fuck off, who is hypocritical to the point of feigned disinterest about this whole business of fucking, who they won’t fuck even if the firmaments fell, who needs mouthwash, who needs to have a change of trousers, who needs to get a thorough bath, who needs a good fucking, who should get body spray(even if it’s the Hausa variety), who needs to stop wearing that underwear, whose mouth they want to stick things into, who isn’t as cool as they think, and all those trappings that come with internalized misogyny, objectification, homophobia, envy, incertitude of the self, malice and toxic masculinity.
This little-dance-on-the-cliff’s-edge of a game has brought folks to the harsh realisation that because people decide not to talk about a thing does not equate being ignorant that it went down. And of course, people are bound to fall into different categories based on reactions and response.
These persons are shocked by the brazenness and ‘vulgarity’ of the messages either out of their religious disposition or a strong sense of moral obligation to civility and courteousness. Sometimes, it is neither; their shock can be a direct result of finding such bawdiness alien—you know, having gone to a nice private school with lush green lawns and students who speak supri-supri English about how their summer in London ‘was lit’, coming back home to lunch on a dining table with a frilled table-cloth holding a two-course meal and getting tucked in bed by 8:30 after being read Snow White. You get the picture.
The Falsely Shocked
They are shocked but all that shock na jonzing. Unlike the sincerely shocked, the falsely shocked are, because they are supposed to be shocked. These set of people reply each anonymous message with a message expressing their shock because they have sighted one or two people from their campus fellowship who would be proud of them for that public show of disapproval and [unrighteous]indignation. Outside Whatsapp, they enjoy the view from the moral high ground and are gifted at guilt-tripping other persons into the admission of wrong, often publicly. They may or may not be actively involved in the business of fucking but they enjoy the accompanying gist when other people are on the line and they often nurse perverse passions in the secrecy of their hearts and hostels. Hell, they author some of those messages.
They are not concerned about whatever hurt anyone is going through because of anonymous messages. They love the anonymous messaging game not because they attach any intrinsic value to it but because they find it all fun, exciting and boredom-breaking. They are quick to break into a laugh over the faintest shades. They don’t care when they get shaded; more fun if the shade thrown at them reveals the most scandalous of their escapades. Na fuck we fuck, we no kill person is their mantra. In fact, they savour the fact that their body counts and prowess are brought to light and they secretly hope that their street cred gets a boost. Most of the lecherous messages are authored by people who fall into this category; they are perpetually on the prowl. No scruples.
The False Free-livers/ The Hit Who Get Hurt
Upon surface examination, you would mistake them for free-livers because that is what they strike you as until they get hit and subsequently hurt. It is all fun and jonzing until an anonymous message comes for them detailing what they did in night class the previous semester. Unlike the free-livers who get hit, laugh it off and make jokes out of the hit, false free-livers burst into tears visibly or internally in their houses; how would you know when they have released a rain of laughing emoji in reply to the message in question? These persons mask their pain with all na cruise and are quick to call anyone who gets offended by the anonymous messages immature. They neutralise their hurt with pretend emotional maturity and false open-mindedness.
The Tremblers<p value="They enjoy the banter and the <em>jonzing
“Perhaps not being wanted to get fucked by anyone hurts more than getting fuck threats.“
When these people get hit, they throw tantrums much to the amusement of everyone. They resort to lame-ass tactics like sending incantations- and cuss words-filled voice notes, threatening arrest or rustication(just imagine). Sometimes, they double as meddlesome interlopers and carry the matter for head when their friends get hit; they insult everyone and are often too blinded to see who is on their side and who is not. Their measures are quite counter-productive which makes it all the more hilarious because more messages just keep pouring in about stupid, ugly, swellheaded and stuck-up they are. That is if someone doesn’t chip in how they know who they are fucking lowkey. And how the person is such is an unbalanced bastard. It is important to note that they are not averse to the concept of anonymous messaging, they are enraged by the fact they didn’t hear what they wanted to.
The Unnoticed Matadors
Like the real matadors, they wave red flags—laugh at every shade, assist every act of savagery, draw people out on the group chat, suggest people who should get written about, tell everyone times and times over how they are enjoying the evening—just to incite the bull called ‘anonymous messages’. You don’t get it, do you? This set of persons want people to write an anonymous message about them, so they try their best to tacitly, and through their speech, say “I’m here, write about me please, someone please write about me now” but unfortunately, they are rarely found interesting enough to be so honoured. Lmao, someone came to your mind.
The Shepherds In The Wilderness
These are the ones who feel extremely offended not because they were hit or anything but because of quite the opposite—they were not hit. In some cases, these people are on the fine line between faux intellectualism and self-styled nerdiness. Everyone knows them, everyone looks at them, everyone talks about them but no one finds them interesting enough to write them an anonymous message —people don’t find the need to tell them anything beyond asking them for things they need and the value they add as per school matters. They tend to grow aggressive and generate strong damaging blasts of incel energy when they feel their self-perceived importance is but a farce. Like the shepherd in the wilderness, no one remembers them. Unlike the false free-livers, you can call them the un-hit who get hurt.
They tend to mask their indignation and loss(sort of) behind facades of moral uprightness, intellectualism, disgust, disinterest, intellectualism and sometimes, political correctness. Perhaps not being wanted to get fucked by anyone hurts more than getting fuck threats.
This is the person everyone wants to get down with. Quarries react in the following ways:
1. Revel in their desirability and the fact that everyone drools over their ass.
2. Get apprehensive about the whole thing because since the days of John the Baptist…
3. One and two.
Needless to say, a person can fall into two or more categories. I think we forget those persons who thank their stars the wind didn’t blow their way; we live to die another day.