I do not know that glorious thing that can be exchanged for freedom. Even the flesh confinement that religions urge believers to espouse is measured basically in relation to sex (outside marriage), food (when you need to fast), lucidity (of thou shall neither hate nor kill) etcetera. But a long period of custody that divorces you from the daily sun, the moon at night, the rain, visitations, longtime friends and family members – leaving you absolutely with no idea of what time of the day or night it is – is indeed a different and dreaded experience.
With women (in the case of men, usually moved by sight); men (in the case of women usually smitten by attention) locked in a common room that leaves little privacy to the sanctity of either sex, and with plenty alcohol as willing companion, containing or endorsing the riotous feelings depends on the individual. May your loyalty never be put to test.
Beyond mere imaginations, I have been in the Big Brother House twice in the past, playing the game of confinement with fellow journalists (the first with a set of 14 from different countries in Africa, and the second with five others from Nigeria), albeit without a prize. And I can tell you for free, that one night, as in the case of the two experiences, was enough to understand the importance of freedom; even when you have plenty to eat and drink.
Yes, the house is indeed beautiful too, the colours endearing. The Jacuzzi, recycling its warm water invites one to royalty; the lawn, dotted with beautiful flowers makes for a garden of meditation; the early morning games and exercises reminded me of my days as Man o War cadet; the music, once played transformed me into the deluxe club mood. Yet, it is a customised studio that hosts one of the best reality shows in Africa.
In a digital age where we are indulged daily with news around the world; in a social media age that has brought people closer through audio visual chats; in this mobile telephone era where talk has become common and business-inclined, you can imagine how far-away and exiled one would feel without the cell phones, note books, laptops, watches and any other gadgets that could connect you to the outside world. We surrendered them all.
Being locked up with these relative strangers, you get to know them better (either by liking a habit or being irritated by one). But perhaps one night was too short to pick a quarrel; after all we weren’t competing for a prize. But you go home with an impression of someone whom you think is either lousy, or lazy, or unkempt, or lacks decorum, or someone whose point of view you never agreed with. That way, impressions are created and alliances are formed.
I found friendship with James Chavula, Sam Banda, Chiku Kimani (all from East Africa); there was so much to learn from these guys who are great journalists in their own rights. Thobelo from South Africa made my day on the second occasion. The football enthusiast is moved by a passion to better the society through a child-development initiative. He introduced two books to me – ‘Who Moved My Cheese?’ by Ken Blanchard and Spencer Johnson and ‘Breaking the Jewish Code’ by Perry Stone. The guys from Nigeria I was already familiar with, and because we share the same political challenges, I leaned towards the strangers just to have a better understanding of other clans and relate their experiences with what obtains at home.
Big Brother thought I was politically-inclined. Well, I got into some political discussion with Thobelo and Niyi, prodding the former more about what an average South African thinks the government is not doing right. That I think may be the last thing a Nigerian citizen will consider an error against its government. I think that in Nigeria, we are in the eye of the storm.
Well, there was a lot of sharing! We had to cook and share meals, share a bathroom and share either one of the two bedrooms with beds like that of secondary school pupils.
But this was just a visit by journalists. The real show is one that takes the real contestants on a journey of three months where depression might likely lead to outburst that often gives whatever strategy of winning away.
This time, there is N45million as the total package for the eventual winner. It is not a game for the faint-hearted. As much as you don’t want to lose the game, there is a kind of relief in the eyes of contestants when they are evicted. Confinement is no child’s play. I was glad to leave after only one night on both occasions.
