I don’t watch the news.
There, I’ve said it.
I don’t watch BBC, not Sky News, not Nigerian news, and not even those Instagram pages that wake up every morning determined to inform you that the world is ending. I don’t even open Twitter anymore…Or X…Or whatever we’re calling it this week.
I have a very simple philosophy…If something important happens, somebody will tell me.
That has been my philosophy for few months now.
And honestly? It has been peaceful.
I work from home. I transcribe people’s meetings, interviews, conferences, podcasts and occasionally videos. My laptop is basically my colleague, supervisor and landlord.
I wake up, work, eat, watch movies, sleep, and repeat. Sometimes I go grocery shopping. That is my social life.
My parents call me from Nigeria and tell me I’m too recluse, while my friends send me videos and I ignore half of them. Whenever somebody starts talking about politics, immigration, protests, wars or whatever terrible thing has happened that morning, I quietly disappear.
Because I am tired.
Tired of Nigeria’s bad news…Tired of Britain’s immigration news…Tired of headlines about migrants…Tired of politicians talking…Tired of everybody arguing…Tired of waking up every morning to discover that humanity has found another way to disappoint me.
So I stopped watching. I decided that if I couldn’t control the world, I could at least control what entered my head. It worked.
Until Thursday.
Thursday was completely ordinary, I finished work around five, closed my laptop, stretched and decided to go ransack my fridge. There were some promising ideas but I was actually craving for something in the fridge…
Steak.
I closed the fridge, “Okay.”
I looked at the clock, the shop was only a few minutes away. I could walk, so I changed, putting on jeans, a sweater and trainers. I grabbed my purse, keys, phone, done. I didn’t check the news, of course I didn’t. Why would I?
I stepped outside. The weather was cold and cars passed occasionally. I put my headphones in, but didn’t even play anything. I just liked having them there.
I walked for a few minutes, then felt strange. I slowed down, the street was quiet. Usually there were people everywhere…someone walking a dog…children coming home…people returning from work…more cars and buses…somebody inevitably shouting into a phone.
But today…Nothing. I looked around, maybe it was the time, maybe everyone was indoors and maybe I was imagining it.
I continued walking. I looked up and saw a group of boys ahead…Teenagers…Five? Six? I wasn’t sure. They were walking toward me, at first, I didn’t think anything of it.
I decided to observe them closer and noticed their faces. They weren’t smiling, they weren’t chatting and they were looking directly at me. My stomach tightened and I slowed down, but they didn’t.
One of them said something I couldn’t hear, another one pointed at me. My heart began beating faster…I looked behind me….Nobody…I looked forward again…they were closer…much closer.
I suddenly had that strange feeling you get when your body knows something before your brain does.
Run.
That was the first thought.
Just run.
I turned, and one of them shouted.
“Hey!”
I froze, then they started moving faster. My heart dropped, they were coming toward me, fast.
I ran, I don’t remember deciding to, my body just did it. I grabbed my bag tighter with my trainers hitting the pavement. Behind me, I could hear shouting, I didn’t turn around. I was thinking about everything at once…my parents…my apartment…the stupid steak…the fact that I might actually die because I wanted steak. I was almost crying.
Suddenly, I heard someone shout from the opposite direction.
“Leave her alone!”
A man appeared and moved toward the boys.
“Back off!”
They stopped and he stood firmly in front of me. One of the boys shouted something back while the man pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
They began arguing and the man raised his voice again.
“Leave. Now.”
Slowly, reluctantly, they backed away and then disappeared around the corner. I stood there, breathing like I had just run a marathon with my hands shaking.
The man turned around, “Are you alright?”
I nodded, or at least I tried to.
“Yes.” My voice came out as a whisper, “Thank you.”
He looked at me carefully, “Are you sure?”
I nodded again, and I finally asked, “What was that?”
He hesitated, “You haven’t heard?”
I shook my head, “What happened?”
He looked surprised, “There was an incident earlier.”
“What incident?”
“There was a clash nearby.” He lowered his voice, “Things got heated.”
He looked in the direction the boys had gone, “Some of the younger ones have been targeting foreigners.”
My stomach dropped, “Foreigners?”
He nodded, “Yes.”
I suddenly understood. I understood why the street had been so quiet. Why people were staying indoors. Why those boys had looked at me that way. Why they had started running toward me. I felt sick.
The man continued talking, explaining what little he knew. I barely heard him because my mind was already going somewhere else.
What if he hadn’t appeared?
What if I had fallen?
What if I couldn’t run?
What if there had been more of them?
What if they had caught me?
What would have happened?
I didn’t know, and that was the scariest part. I thanked him again. He insisted on walking with me for part of the way to which I didn’t argue. For once, I was happy to have company.
On the way home, I kept thinking about one thing…I didn’t have to be outside. I wasn’t going anywhere important, I wasn’t going to work, I wasn’t meeting anybody, I was literally going to buy steak. That was all.
If I had known what was happening…I would have stayed home and I would have ordered online. Suddenly my little philosophy didn’t seem so clever anymore.
“If it’s important, somebody will tell me.”
What if nobody tells you?
What if you’re the person who needs to know?
What if knowing isn’t about being nosy?
What if sometimes…Knowing is safety?
I reached my apartment, unlocked the door, locked it again and stood there with my back against it. My heart was still beating too fast.
I walked into the kitchen after some minutes, opened the fridge and looked at the other things in the fridge. I stared at it for a few seconds, still in shock, and suddenly made a nervous little laugh.
“Well…”
I picked up my phone. For the first time in months…I opened the news. I was suddenly unsure whether I was more afraid of what I might find there…or of what could happen the next time I stepped outside without knowing.