Our quest to stall time by moving forward

We move forward to stall time, halting the certainty of our approach at the finish line. It appears plain to the common eye that we grow restless—even baulking at inertia as long as we believe we keep advancing in a direction that points forward. But the big question lies in why?

If the big question is why, we begin with the first instance: knowing the inevitability of time. Reminded are we of our immortality and fragility in the aches of our bones, the vitality of the young, and the carefulness of the old. In this observation, some of us secretly wish for time to halt our convergence at the end. However, we aim to halt that approach by making headway in our lives and on the world.

To put it plainly, we keep progressing because we know our time runs short. Now imagine if we had infinite time. Would we progress, or would we become slaves to our immortality—unchanging like our bodies?

In what way are we stagnant?

We find ourselves obeying the tenet of inertia, some more than others: that we resist change at our own peril, even at the behest of an external nudge. It’s no surprise that we’re stubborn to change, requiring real effort not to grow our limbs but to stray away from our nurtured path. Why is this incident so? We’ve been bent into shape as we were nurtured by the forces of family, society, and the world, thus becoming our shortest path. Consequently, change or any other activity tends to loom like the longest distance that requires ascending the mountains.

I know Nigeria obeys inertia too well by refusing to become better. But I can’t blame the land, for if I’m to hate, I should hate the people for failing to impact change. The world bends according to our will, and if our will is to remain as a rock that refuses to weather, the world refuses to change. Hence the people, Nigerians, obey inertia too well—even when they clamour for change, they desire the mechanisms of the past that have led to the present dilemma.

We see it in the repetition of mundane customs that speak of a glory of the past that has no place in today’s climate. Most importantly, we see it in our elders—that stubbornness they chide the youth of roars greatly in their bones with defiance at the world. So, what do the youth do? They model themselves after the old because that’s the routine of humanity: altering little in generational trends. Ultimately, our cohort needs a revamp to defy the current Nigerian inertia; otherwise, Nigeria never makes it.

The second big question is: how do we defy inertia?

The truly disobedient ones compel activity even at the slightest nudge; in a way, they move with the world. To defy inertia is to flow with the natural order of things, changing at whim. If people we consider immobile are sturdy in their resolve to keep still, then those who budge are steadfast in their resolve to approach perfection. However, we know perfection remains unattainable, and only by moving forward do we discover this fact.

While it requires great force to make us steer from our paths, we hate stagnancy, and we sometimes despise those who we think do not grow but choose to remain comfortable in their shells. In our shortsightedness, we fail to notice that those who remain stagnant do it because they’ve grown accustomed to time. To them, they do not wish to stall time; rather, they wait for the end of their time. Such complacency is not peculiar to human nature, as we eventually reach that point in our lives.

Often, we move backwards to find out how we’ll move forward

If we were to retrace steps we’ve once taken, we’d see a different path that lies ahead. Even when we regress, our regression exists to show routes that point onward. I don’t think of time as our enemy—a certainty that spells the end because our bodies ultimately breathe their last. Rather, time is our friend, a companion that defines our path. Thus, we keep advancing, not just to stall time but to extend our presence in the world even when we breathe our last.?