It Exploded 💥

BOOM

Jul 15, 2026

It is safe to say introductions are no longer necessary, but it never hurts to say “Hello, once again.”

Boom

This is a word people from all walks of life will define in different ways. If you are a chronic gambler, “boom” means luck, and the money is rolling in. If you are an economist, a boom is a sign of prosperity.

But what if you work in a nuclear facility or with anything related to electricity? I would say you are either about to meet God or ready for a long spell at the hospital.

Two months ago, the electricity distribution in my area went awfully bad. It went from fifteen hours a day to 30 minutes in five days. It was stressful and at some point, I was pulling my hair out of my head.

Two weeks ago, they went back to regular programming. One random day, NEPA left the light on for two days straight without blinking it. As a Nigerian, when that sort of thing happens, suspicion should naturally follow. So, I thought to myself and concluded that we had probably used our share of electricity for the next two months, based on projections from the past month.

Let me tell you about this past Sunday.

When you are about to have a bad day or week, the signs are always there, but because you have decided to channel your inner Odeal, you refuse to smell the coffee or even read the signs, and thus your ordeal begins—no pun intended.

Saturday, 10 PM

England Vs Norway.

This is a match I wanted to watch.

Why not? I had nothing better to do.

Let’s get a few things out of the way. I am in no way English. Hell, I don’t even have an English name. As for the language, I don’t even respect it. I just try my best not to butcher it whenever I speak it. As for Norway, my closest relationship to the country is the series Vikings. I was not raised on Norse mythology and I have no dreams of Valhalla.

Simply put, I had no business watching that match deep into the night.

By the 70th minute, I could barely keep my eyes open and found myself dozing at different intervals. Towards the 80th minute, Norway scored a disallowed goal and the sudden high-pitched commentary from the commentators woke me up in an instant and my phone almost fell from my hand. Sign number one.

The match would eventually go to extra time. At this point, I would watch the match for a minute and doze off for another three. By the time Jude Bellingham’s winner went into the net, I was well asleep, and thanks to another sudden high-pitched commentary, I woke up almost immediately, and this time, my phone fell but my foot cushioned the worst of the fall. That was my cue to call it a night. Sign number two.

Sunday, 3 AM

I woke up to drink water and met the dying embers of Argentina Vs Switzerland. As a kid, I loved football. As an adult, I feel that love waning with every passing season. But the World Cup is different, a once-in-four-years event. So, whenever you can catch a match, you do that, regardless of who’s playing.

Argentines have a high tendency to be racist. Between the moaning, the diving and cheating, only Lionel Messi makes them watchable. As for the Swiss, they claim to be masters of neutrality, but neutrality is the way of the coward, and do not even get me started on their banks. On the other hand, they make nice chocolates.

Extra time

Penalties

Argentina goes through to the semifinals

The Swiss go back to the Alps.

After the match, I spent time downloading books on my laptop to read later.

Sunday, 5:30 AM

There is a mosque around the corner from my street. I do not like that mosque. The water there tastes like iron. It leaves a steely taste in your mouth long after you’ve forgotten about the taste of water on your tongue. So, I try my best to stay away if I can.

But that morning, because I had done too much sitting the previous day, I decided to pray at the mosque. I didn’t bother using their water for ablution, and I took my own water along.

The morning prayers are always short. In no time, I was back home. I went back to bed and hours later, I was up, ready to attack the day.

Sunday, 10 AM

I switched on my laptop and continued to binge-watch Heroes. A show I first saw back in boarding school. Over the last few weeks, I have been binging shows and movies that once brought me comfort, in an attempt to fill the void in my heart and find some semblance of happiness.

Last week, I watched the entire collection of Daniel Craig’s James Bond. I did not even feel a pang of guilt. I just wasted away by way of watching movies.

Hiro Nakamura, Peter Petrelli and Claire Bennet kept me company that week and that morning.

When I got tired of watching Heroes. I checked on some piece of writing I never completed and made some edits.

My stomach grumbled and I realised I had not eaten anything in half a day. Sigh!

I put my Spotify on shuffle and the first song that played was Brymo’s Money Good—even Spotify was mocking me. I shook my head when I considered the emptiness of my bank account.

I stood up from my chair and away from my laptop when I remembered that I had left some slices of bread in the freezer.

I opened the freezer and the bread was nowhere to be found. Did I eat it? I cannot remember for the life of me.

Then it happened!

BOOM!!!

It exploded.

Fire. Smoke. Explosion. The whole shebang.

My laptop exploded seconds after I stood up from working on it. The way my laptop fried, I could have easily lost my sight assuming I never stood up from where I was.

Mind you, I would not classify myself as a chronic gambler, nor am I an economist. But the moment my laptop exploded, I might as well have been a Nuclear Engineer. I looked back from in front of the freezer where I was to where my laptop was busy sizzling like a tasty barbecue and I could not believe what I was seeing. I could see my laptop burning, but a small part of me wished it were my brain that exploded.

At this point, I could feel the light in my eyes disappear.

I ran towards the remnants of my laptop, and the smoke emanating from it began suggesting tales of another explosion. I took the laptop outside dropped it on the floor and began cursing my luck. I had to open the windows, doors and switch on all the fans to get rid of the burning smell.

For the remainder of the day, I was staring at the wall like I had been newly admitted into a mental facility.

Sunday morning was the last time I slept well. Monday morning saw me checking out laptop prices, and every scroll followed a tired sigh after seeing the prices of laptops.

Sign Number Three.

I tried clearing my drafts and completing a piece of writing. Let me tell you, it’s one of the most tedious tasks ever. When you have consistently written on your laptop for years, and all of a sudden, you have to write on your phone, trust me you’d grow some type of hatred for what you have to do.

As I tried writing this newsletter, I wish I were kidding, my phone almost fell once again.

And on that note, this is going to be the last piece of writing I am going to do on this newsletter for a long time—unless Lady Luck smiles at me, then you shall see me in a matter of months, of course. But if this streak of bad luck is extended, I’m afraid you might not see me till next year.

If that’s the case, all I have to say is:

Happy New Month

Happy New Year

Congratulations on your new job

Happy Married Life

Congratulations on the birth of your kid

Happy everything else.

I remain forever yours, Nezo.

A Tale of Multiple Nezo(s) is powered by my continuous descent/ascent into uncertainty and motions of human experience. From time to time, I have to stroke your ego and tell you that the world is incomplete without you, to appeal to your generosity. Today is one of those days. Feel free to buy me a coffee here

Current Read - Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski