The Unbroken Spirit: A Woman's Journey Through Adversity

It was a cloudy afternoon in Sango Ota, Ogun State, Nigeria. The clouds darkened, signaling imminent rain as I embarked on a journey to a new home. Laden with the burdensome weight of gas, kitchen utensils, and some small clothes, my backpack seemed to grow more oppressive with each step. Sango Ota, renowned for its industrial prowess, now revealed a dual nature—an area of progress marred by the plague of potholes.

As raindrops fell, I sought temporary shelter, contemplating the trials that lay ahead. The tangible weight of my belongings mirrored the emotional burden I carried. Gazing at the empty streets, I began to ponder Sango Ota—the dichotomy of industry and deteriorating infrastructure. The roads, once pathways to progress, now stood as threatening entities filled with uncertainties, unsafe conditions, and the heavy financial strain of transportation costs.

As the rain subsided, I hailed a motorbike, navigating the treacherous roads that tested not only my perseverance but also the resilience of the community. The relentless splashes of swamp water, the rhythmical rumbling of potholes, and the precarious balancing act with a gas cylinder on my lap became metaphors for the emotional hurdles accompanying my physical journey.

Reaching the first bus stop, I descended to walk through waterlogged roads, steering my way towards another bus stop to get to my destination. The road was submerged—a swamp of murky water and debris from the gutters. Resolutely, I waded through, guided solely by the sense of touch, nearly stumbling as my leg betrayed me in unpredictable depths.

Through this, the onlookers, stationed at their makeshift stalls within the murky water, were either empathetic cautioners or indifferent spectators. Undeterred by their gaze, I pressed on, purchasing necessities along the way. I finally emerged from the submerged part of the road to the dry section. However, the rain started drizzling again, prompting me to shield my phone by keeping it in the small part of my backpack. Little did I fathom that this simple act would soon unravel into a moment of profound distress.

“Madam, close your bag before they snatch your money,” a voice from behind warned. Swiftly dropping my gas cylinder and kitchen utensils, I secured my bag, only to realize my phone was missing. Panic surged as I frantically searched, but it was gone. To think that I was tired and almost depressed but still pushing through just to get to my new place to eat and take care of myself—the thought of my phone made me feel numb. I looked up and down, observing everyone in the crowded market, “No one can help you, Maggie; you are on your own,” I said to myself.

‘How could I be so careless? I’ve never been careless like this before. It must be the tiredness and the load in my hand,’ were the thoughts running through my mind. I was still hopeful that I could retrieve the phone, so I begged a woman to help me call the number. She accepted the phone rang, and the guy who stole it picked up, saying “hello” before cutting the call. The woman tried the number again; this time, it wasn’t going through. At this point, I gave up and thanked the woman for her help.

Continuing my journey, tears welled up as frustration and fatigue wore me down. The realization of being alone in this struggle heightened the emotional toll. The cool breeze on the keke ride failed to ease the tempest within. Amidst my strife, my thoughts expanded to encompass the broader community and how they coped with the deteriorating road system, further aggravated by relentless rainfall since May 2023.

Arriving home, I collapsed on my bed, physically and emotionally drained. The deteriorating environment and the relentless onslaught of climate change on the community lingered heavily on my mind. I pondered the escalating costs of transportation, recognizing its disproportionate impact on women working far from home.

At this point, I felt we had collectively failed in mitigating climate change, jeopardizing not only our physical environment but also profoundly impacting mental health. The struggles faced by women navigating through adverse conditions underscored the urgent need for collaborative efforts to safeguard both the planet and the collective well-being of its resilient inhabitants.

As the raindrops fell, so did the silent cry of a planet in distress, urging us to heed its call and work towards a more sustainable future for all. This journey, marked by challenges, also stands as a testament to the strength and resilience of women who continue to press forward against all odds.

Relating to SDGs:

This saddening journey echoes the core principles of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), particularly the need for environmental sustainability (SDG 13 – Climate Action) and the well-being of communities (SDG 3 – Good Health and Well-being). The tale underscores the urgent need for robust infrastructure and resilient communities to withstand the impacts of climate change, aligning with SDG 9 – Industry, Innovation, and Infrastructure most especially how it affects us mentally.

Moreover, the disproportionate impact on women emphasizes the importance of gender equality (SDG 5), shedding light on the challenges they face in the wake of environmental degradation. The narrative calls for collaborative efforts to address these issues, resonating with SDG 17 – Partnerships for the Goals.

This chronicle serves as a clarion call, imploring us to integrate sustainable practices, gender inclusivity, and community resilience into our pursuit of a better world, aligning with the broader vision encapsulated in the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals.