I was coming from work after ten at night and I was wondering how would I get home. The only reason that triggered my thoughts was that I am nyctophobia. I prefer to walk and work during the day but sometimes my work pushes my boundaries and I am found myself trapped. Sometimes I want to carry out certain goals that I had set for myself within the stipulated time. I have always wanted to use public transport, and using public transport it’s my personal choice otherwise I could drive myself around. There are two main reasons why I prefer the public transport. First, it gives me the opportunity to read whatever I have in my hand. Second, it’s more sociable than any other form of transport, and hence giving me the exciting opportunity to meet new people and familiar faces. The other benefits are sight seeing and making my mind more relaxed or refreshed.
I had just walked a few steps from the working place when a colleague offered me a lift to Stockport. I profoundly thanked him. “I would drop you at Stockport bus station,” he said. “That’s fine with me as long as I am in Stockport,” I replied. In less than twenty minutes I was in Stockport and trotting fast to catch the bus 192 that had just halted for few a couple of minutes, dropping off and whilst other people jumped aboard. I rushed in and smiled to the driver who was about drive off. I was about to flash my bus ticket when the bus driver told me to go and sit straight onto the bus and not to worry about the ticket. Immediately I went and sat on quietly. I pulled out my book from the bag and I began to read. In the end I missed my real bus stop by one stop and it was because my mind was deeply engrossed in the work I was reading. Sometimes reading can move me to the pinnacle (s) of the mountains and I can reach the peak of mountain Everest without my legs being scratched and without leaving the comfort of my seat. It is the beauty of reading that drives me crazy.
It was when I dropped off from the bus when my nyctophobia or scotophobia began to accelerate. There was abundance of light where I was walking as I headed my way home but the nyctophobia feeling was greater in me than the faith that I always have. I began to realise that fear is the worst enemy of the human being. Like everything in the world “fear” have its pros and cons. Fear is good for the alertness of real danger and sends the impulses to do the involuntary reaction. As I strolled on the foot pathway that leads to my home, my mind drifted to and fro. I pictured myself back into the times I used to travel in the bushes of Africa for miles and miles alone, hearing the sweet melodies of different species of birds and the sounds of different wild animals. I walked into the deep valleys, thick forest that at times these meandering, rocky foot pathways were canopied with gigantic trees. I could sing any song that excites me. These were the times I would visit friends and relatives that were remotely secluded from any means of transport. If they see any mode of transport in their villages it will be like Christmas for them. On these journeys I would have carried a bundle of parcels. It made my journeys a worthwhile and when friends and relatives received me. I would feel appreciated and they would feel special regardless of the size of the parcel.
I thought deeply of all the journeys that I travelled in the forest, the bushes of Africa, that there was neither a day nor a night I feared to travel own my own. I was always filled with the joy when I am travelling and with less sense for exploring. So much pleasure would bottled inside me and it was always released when I began the voyage. I realised how much I was exposed to the danger of the wild animals, snakes, crocodiles and human beings that could have attacked me. But none of these things had ever set off my mind as I travelled solely in the bushes of Africa and blended well with nature. Here in the UK, I have to think twice before I go out, just fearing the unknown. UK is a very beautiful country with lovely resort areas, white sandy beaches, the exquisite architectural designed buildings and the list is endless but the streets are not as safe as the bushes of Africa. They are lights and cameras everywhere you go but none of these things would give you the best protection nor making you immune to the street crimes. They are a few dark spot areas but the streets are still not safe. Some bad people might think to mug you or face the worst. It may happen to you because you are at the wrong place and at the wrong time. It is ten percent of the population that tarnishes the streets of UK.
I once lived in a populated street. One evening an intruder broke the back door of my house and entered whilst I was asleep. He assumed that there was no one in the house since all the lights in my house were switched off. I was taken by surprise when I saw my bedroom door being opened slowly and my mind was racing a million times per second as I reclined on my bed. It was like watching a movie. Who is the person? How did he enter the house? What does he want? What is going to happen next? Why is the person opening the door slowly? Did I leave my door unlocked? But when our eyes met he fled immediately and I was afraid to pursue him fearing that he might have a brought a gangster or he might use a dangerous weapon to attack me. The incidence left me traumatised, insecure, and defenceless and to worse matters the local police did not arrest the person even if there was overwhelming evidence. It was down watered. The place I was leaving before had a bad reputation and it is three miles away from the spot where the Indian student was shot during the Christmas time in December last year. Knife crime is still an issue and young people of ethnic minority being targeted. Their destinies curtailed as they lay in graves.
