Dev, the perfect imagination turned reality. Life on Earth was cruel to me. Tragedy befell tragedy, and I sought an escape. I desired a world filled with a bed of roses, where sorrow is unknown and tragedy unwelcome. A world where things are done with ease. A world where I can live in peace without the fear of the unknown. Then Dev came—the perfect gift for humanity. The perfect world… or so I thought.

Dev was Nirvana for me, the hope of humanity. I remember how excited I was about this safe haven Negasi had created. My mother didn’t share this excitement with me and instead reproved me. Her words didn’t hold me down because I had known my mother to be very conservative, so without her blessings, I journeyed to the world of perfection.

Dev was a dream come true. Everything was so unreal—beautiful cities and towers made of glass projecting ads of different simulated fantasies like time at the beach, Hollywood’s red carpet with a bunch of celebrities, a ride in Cinderella’s carriage, a trip to the moon, and many more. A life where you don’t need a job, and your greatest fantasy comes true. In that moment, I thought I had made the right decision.

Memory is the only means of exchange in Dev. I was shocked, and the excitement in me was cut short. You give a piece of your memory to simulate your fantasies. This wasn’t the dream I was sold. Time is the most valuable commodity. Five happy memories are equivalent to a year in Dev. Simulations only cost one happy memory. People became desperate to elongate their time in Dev. Then the problem of memory hijackers started—they steal your happy memories and replace them with their sad ones.

A memory I cherished so much—the memory of my father and mother dancing to Olo Mi by Ebenezer Obey in the living room. They were so engrossed in the moment, they didn’t notice I was in a corner smiling. A reminiscence of their love was stolen from me. Sadness hit me like a wave and tossed me into the sea of sorrow. I realised I wasn’t in paradise but in Negasi’s mind.

I longed for my mother and father. I longed for home. I don’t even know how I feel anymore—it is no longer sadness; it has morphed into something worse. Perhaps it already has a name in Dev.

Now, I patiently wait until I run out of time so I can vanish into oblivion. Maybe there, I will find the peace my mind seeks.

Written by Akinwumi Olamide