On Sunday, 18th of May, I forced myself out of the house, all thanks to my friend, Hameedah Adam, who kept reminding me that I mentioned wanting to attend her sister’s exhibition. I had told her to keep me in check because the introvert in me might decide to curl up with a book and not venture out again. Now, the exhibition, What We Carry, is by Haneefah Adam—her sister, whom I’ve had the good fortune of experiencing during the Maggi Diaries episode I filmed with her in December 2023.

Aside from making me and the other guests comfortable, she also made sure to crack jokes to ease our tension before we went on camera with her. So I went for the exhibition, and it was such a therapeutic moment for me that I wish I could relive it over and over again.

The thread works interactive art made me feel a series of emotions at once. It made sure I stood still to ask myself deep questions and answer them by myself. It was also an opportunity for me to rewrite the outcomes of past trauma—by rewriting it through the use of the green thread I selected and looping it over resilience and creativity. All I felt was a purgatory of emotions that left me misty-eyed.

Now, that is not the crux of what I want to talk about today. I want to talk more about how most of the things we do nowadays are performances. In fact, Sunday made me reflect and tell myself to do better in experiencing this bounteous wonder we call life. In the moment of it all.

As I walked into Didi Museum, a group of girls were also strolling in. Along the line, they clogged up the stairs leading into the museum. I stood gently, wondering what was keeping them, only to realize they were snapping and taking shots of the artworks lining the stairs. Oh fine, normal normal. They excused themselves and allowed me to pass.

Next, I got upstairs and began to go from artwork to artwork, trying to pinpoint what could possibly be Haneefah Adam’s headspace as she created these pieces. Paints. Metal works. Tie and dye. I was jolted out of this by murmurs and mini disturbances. It was those same ladies trying to organize themselves to take a series of pictures with some of the art. Then they stood for several minutes in front of the thread exercise, trying to get the perfect angles and photos. Like clockwork, the moment the perfect shots were gotten, they left.

They never left one spot. They did not walk around and were absolutely not interested in the exhibition. They were interested in taking photos and videos that were probably going to end up as “content.” I hate that word so much. They’ll probably have a voiceover with a nasal accent in an attempt to sound less Nigerian but still not American enough to be trolled for faking it.

I was confounded. I wondered what the whole point of them dressing up and leaving the house was for, if it was all to get a few snapshots and go on their merry way. They could not be bothered to immerse themselves in the art but were rather interested in the performance of showing that they, in fact, did immerse themselves.

This is not new. People go to the cinema and spend half of the time sending streaks of most of the movie to their streak list. People go bowling and would rather record angles and videos to share later than fully focus on the experience.

We are no longer living. We are performing.

Please, this is not me berating people who snap. I am more focused on people who record, capture, and are more obsessed with how what they’re capturing would look rather than actually being in the moment. There should be documentation, but it shouldn’t be so much that half of the time is spent snapping and snapping away.

Do you know how crazy it is watching someone have multiple takes of them enjoying ice cream? Yeah, some people take it the extra mile. The swirl of the fork around the pasta must be perfect before they streak their followers. People laugh multiple times to get the perfect laugh sound to share with their followers. And please—some people even reshoot their gasp of surprise at their proposal because the first take didn’t seem like they were surprised enough.

Performance.

Nothing is sacred anymore. Nothing is enjoyed in solitude anymore, and it is crazy. We all cannot be influencers whose day-to-day work revolves around sharing bits and pieces of their lives. Some things should be tucked away in our memories. We should know less about each other.