THRESHOLD

"Shut up!", she yelled, with sufficient rage in her tone to pass the message accurately enough not to be mistaken for a friendly command. The succeeding silence was not without much shock, immensely surprised heads stretching from study cubicles, sparse murmurs and attention drawn to one corner of the chilly ground floor of the library. Only one head seemed not to bear any expression deposited from the one-and-a-half second sound three seconds ago which had rapidly changed the mood of the room; her's. Her focus was fierce, guarded with palms on both sides of her head; she needed every drop of it which she had just gone the mile to secure. Whether that was uncalled-for, insensitive or totally manner-less would be resolved later. No one confronted her then; they either lacked courage or information. Her reaction therefore remained puzzling to almost everyone till the staff, identified by the school ID Card hung over his neck, walked in.

"I just couldn't take it anymore!", she explained. Her tone was lighter though laden with ample emotion as she swerved into a chronological account of the moments afore on the librarian's request. The library was the only place that held a promise for quiet study for students of her kind on the campus on such busy weekdays. Exams had begun for some and it soon would for others. For her, it was her finals. "These people. Same thing. Every time!" she continued, stretching out her slender hands but vaguely pointing to any particular person as she went on. Her frustration was understood by most who kept an ear for the ongoing explanation while the lad at whom she stared and to whom she spoke managed to show only little expression as he listened. Soon after, she was done. "I understand, but you didn't have to be that loud", he queried after a brief sigh. There was a brief pause then "I'm sorry, it was just so annoying and frustrating". "It's okay, just keep it silent from now on, okay?", he said mildly. And turning away from her, he said again, in a louder tone "Keep it silent people; you know the rules!" then walked away just as he came.Those few minutes and the brief yell that preceded seemed to have made a lot of difference.The small-statured pretty-looking westerner in her gray pullover could continue her study and the level of noise that had triggered her reaction never surfaced again, at least not for the next four hours.

"We all have our limits, Luke" said Kelly as they walked down the corridor leading out of the library complex. The gentle-looking, tall, African guy walking beside her responded with a smile. She noticed it and added "I know, I overreacted or something but I didn't really mean to be rude or anything ...". "I know!" interrupted Luke. "I understand. It's okay sweetie", he added, pulling her closer to him and giving a peck somewhere close to the forehead. She knew he meant it- and he actually did- even though he hardly knew that side of her before their relationship. Before, she was only a soft-spoken, seemingly smart, shapely, blond classmate whom he had found it difficult getting his mind off. But that was then, he knew better now. He knew what could make her feel like the luckiest girlfriend on campus and what could switch her mood. Luke didn't actually see what happened back there though he was also in the library; he was on a different floor; they didn't always study together, but her account of the event was sufficient and the trigger qualified for the latter. "We all have our limits, baby" he said. Kelly smiled, flung her arms across his waist where she would keep it for the rest of the walk and they walked on. They were a cute couple. But Luke's decision not to query her for the unladylikeness wasn't just a cute move , it was wise. He had his limits too.

In fact we all do. I believe there is always that point that marks a transition, "the starting point for a new state or experience" in attitude or behaviour of both animate and inanimate things on this earth and it manifest in different ways. It could be that point when you just wanna scream your fury out into the air; that point where you stop being you and snap into another you; that point when you 'tear your shirt' and make up your mind to 'face it' head-on; or that point when your dam of discipline can seemingly no longer hold back the urge to shut-up the reckless word-hurling mouth before you with the fling of an arm. Otherwise, it could be that moment you decide to let-go someone or something you love for the better despite how hard for you, unfair to the other and unnecessary to others it may seem; or the moment you realize your repeated failure is no defeat and rise to challenge the uncertainty of success like you've never done before; or the moment you begin to "flee" from certain encounters instead of risking another fall under the pretense that you would "overcome", despite how ludicrous some people may perceive it. It is that moment you realize things just can't afford to remain the same. That is the point...the Threshold.

What matters is not whether or not we could be bent till we snap - because we all could - or how we ought to react at snap-points - because we are all different - but the nature of our plasticity as visible from our thresholds, its manifestation and the events it ushers. This differs from person to person and from issue to issue. Certain people are more tolerant than others on certain issues than on others. Some have so trained or been trained that their thresholds on many matters have been pushed too far away to be reached by everyday odds and people (possibly why extreme measures such as in interrogation and torture are employed sometimes to 'break' suspects into giving away themselves or others), others are just that way by nature. There however, exist a breed that would never snap even at the face of 'fatal' triggers. Though this is uncommon, it is possible and sometimes a necessary skill to possess. But considering the average individual, every human would break if bent hard enough; that point is his threshold and it usually ushers an unusual phase, response or reaction which differs too. For Kelly, it was a loud "shut-up!" for a noisy library; for the guy in a relationship thorned by too many heartbreaking ups and downs, it could be a sudden 'it's-over-ish' statement or attitude to his partner;for the simple-hearted friend whose generousity has been taken for granted too often, it may come as a sudden display of cynicism and distrust.

We sure cannot and are not expected to know every one we see or meet so precisely as to predict their every move and reaction. However, there are certain truths we must not fail to keep in mind. Having noted that people have limits and it differs, while relating and interacting we must learn them and observe their tolerance level and threshold reaction on various issues so as not to mistakenly step too hard on their toes or be blown away by their 'explosion' even when we could predict they had had a little too much. Friends, colleagues and even strangers could act or react - and do strange, extreme and incredibly unbelievable things - in ways we never had imagined if pushed hard enough.

While we note that positive thresholds and extremes also exist, we must be more conscious about the negative ones as the results go accordingly. The results of negative triggers could be fatal to relationships. Words said and wrongs done may be forgiven but hardly forgotten. Distrust and silent hatred could be planted in hearts and would remain even if they never grow. Regret, plenty of explanation, apology, and lots of time would often go in in attempt to fix such results , however, with no guarantee things could be fixed back to exactly how they were before. So be warned!

For us, we must look into ourselves too. How easily do we break when triggered negatively and how much would it take to push us past our positive thresholds? That, indeed, defines reasonable our personality, strengths and weaknesses. Would we stick with a wrong or an unpleasant act or path until something (event) very humiliating or terribly heart-breaking gives us a push or would little experiences and friendly advice be enough to spur us to take the challenge to do the right and necessary? Are we very sensitive to offenses so much that our wall of reactions is usually only a few insulting words, hits below the belt, and disappointments behind us? Your threshold speaks a lot and means a lots too. Beware!

It's a two-way thing and matters much. It may be instinctive but could be observed, understood and kept in check. It is a critical point; the Threshold. Be aware!

The SoLOiST

...Played same notes for a few bars, plied same route at some point, were mates sometime. He was just realizing; we are mere cohorts of individuality. Sad as it felt, this feeling didn't erupt from inexperience. He had been too reluctant to accept reality when it hinted and, yes, he felt foolish but was justifiable. What he couldn't figure out was why he was the only one who lacked that consciousness then. But actually he wasn't and would have realized that if his emotions were more in-tact at the moment. There were others who took those youthful days with as much ignorance or slackness as he but he wouldn't be consoled by that.

There was no time to wish for a rollback, crying in the silence of depression wouldn't help either. Cynicism may, he considered. It was an extreme he never believed in but it now felt necessary. So he made a resolution and ,slowly, steadily evolved into the man who would later be named a name that describes his present life, perspective and act...THE SOLOIST.

It was now perfectly clear. We were born into the same home but different destinies. We have walked through the same years or number of years but different experiences. Even if we had the same qualification, we sure have different ability. We are different people, individuals. We are all on our own. Therefore, being who he now was was not a decision he had to make. It was a pre-existing status he merely had to realize, operate as, and get used to - which he hoped he would. He was ready.

Twenty-two year old Maxwell Thames, sprawled on his fluffy Tabriz rug, reached out for a remote control lying about one feet away from his left hand, felt around the buttons for a few seconds with his fingers then, pointing it forward, made some music play from the stereo set standing somewhere close-by, about three metres away from his feet. Dropping back the remote, both arms swept an angle at the elbow and found his palms behind his head where they met, intercepting his head from the rug. Then his eyes closed as his mind wandered a few years back.

It was the Redwood High School days, 1992. Schooling was fun, especially with his bunch of friends and their variety of craziness. It wasn't a very big group. They were five but that was just the core. The entire circle was larger with people joining and leaving, active then inactive, fighting and bonding. That was how it was for the entire period from fourth to fifth grade. But the five remained relatively together. Everything was just fine, academics too. Though they weren't scoring the same marks in the weekly class quiz, it wasn't bad enough to throw them apart. Jun usually scored the highest among the five and sometimes in the entire class and they all knew it. Even before the marked sheets would arrive, guesses would be on the wait and on some crazy days bets. Pretty often, the argument was whether or not he will break his 'record' this time. "I say yes," Max would usually say and that would almost automatically throw his usual 'rival', Gab on the other end; "no! mine is a no!" Her name was actually Gabriella but she acted too much like a 'he' for the name. She was a tomboy, but a really cute one, though she didn't look it. Her braided hair, un-made-up face and dressing was never enough to give her away if she hadn't spoken or been in a conversation. You could hardly notice her boyishness from afar but close up her energy and sarcasm were a mismatch for her fully feminine face and figure. Of course, not for the group. They were used to her, everyone else among them and themselves.

Audrey and Debby would take our sides too while the owner of the script had a good time and took his - even he could never be too sure what the outcome of day's assessment would be. On some other days the bet would be if he would 'top' again or not. Whoever lost would have to give up a reasonable portion of his lunch for that day for those on the other side and take some serious ridicule. But lunch would still be fun, loud and attracting a lot of attention as usual. Their closeness was envied by many of their mates but that didn't matter much. They simply rolled on. Teenage-hood was exciting. [to be continued...]

Who says I cant rap?

"wen I speak less they say am speechless/now they questn ma swiftness/but y'all knw am d best/am d remedy 2 empty floors, n enemy to wack flows n melody/gen-t-ly hacking hate frm d haters' memory/n so d stage keeps calling me/ ma fans keep bugging me/hugging me/mobbing me/ just cant stop loving me/ so u can scream ma name or stand alone in shame/cos am da destiny/da game/ n thats y i came"....rap, lol!

Anybody?!

Hello! He-low! I know, I’m not alone. I know. But so sometimes it feels. And though I see no walls in the vast expanse of possibility’s horizon, I hear it. Echo. Calling. “Hello-o-o, anybody there. Be mad with me! Anybody?!”

Peering within for an answer, ears hoping for the bonus of a second voice paved with courage and blessed with a heart to match, too irritated to take another gulp of the nonsense with no anger, I’m desperate. “Anybody?!”

‘Anybody?!’ Indignant at the stench of decay and with vision fisted for change, men are sought and women who are only so declared by gender. Angry, equipped with exposure, ready and mad for a war to restore green-faded-into-black back to grounds which for decades it has never tread; stable sanity. Our Nigeria needs them. And now, only those mad enough can be the heroes.

“Anybody?!”