Everytime I look at myself in the mirror, I see the wears and tears of restless years. I am aging, and so is the world.

While I may count the trials which have besieged me, like the problem of my rebelling son, the same can not be said of our world. Where things fell apart remains a mystery. Maybe that is the intersection it has with my life. We both fell for no fault of ours. 

I was an ambitious journalist, wife and mother. I dreamt of big things and its spark was a light that dazzled the stars. 

Divorce came. Without a father, Dozie became an unleashed wildling. Our world, on the other hand, was Eden before global warming.

There was the chlorofluorocarbons. Then came the proliferation of weapons and nuclear warheads. Thoughtless declaration of war, and outburst of terrorism. Eden was lost. Our paradise crumbled. Nature responded with floods and hurricanes. On the ruins we left, the living are starving and displaced.

You turn the radio and the headlines reads gruesome destruction of villages and displacement of villagers by bandits and armed herdsmen in Nigeria. Yet, the senate is caught in a web of political feud, subtle gender inequality, and god-acclaimed image.

Our national anthem is changed but nothing is done to raise the standard of living of citizens, most of whom operate below the poverty line.

Independence might have been a dream come to pass, but our current status begs the question if we are truly liberated.

Today, the holocaust of the last century appears to be two billion light years away. But it was ambition, hate, segregation, and ultimately the assignment of power to the wrong leaders that took the world down that historical path. These are issues we have not addressed in their roots.

Tomorrow, Dozie will come home for holiday. I might look at him and wonder where I went wrong as a mother, just like our world. Or maybe, I will hang on to the faintest glimmer of hope that he is changed.

The truth is undeniable. My home is broken. However, Dozie can become the glue that brings the unity. I have not stopped hoping for the reunion of his father and I.

Similarly, we must acknowledge that the war in Gaza is not an alien cry. If ceasefire was achieved once, it can be made permanent. It is achievable.

The plight of Ukrainians is a banshee's wail. It could be us tomorrow. 

The tyranny of the strong over the weak, is a path that has never been rid of blood.

Like my son, our world today is a mess from our past. Nevertheless, we can begin the journey to its healing today, for the sake of tomorrow. And when tomorrow comes, we can boldly say "we tried".