Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts

Wednesday, 19 June 2019

The Price of Going Viral

Image Courtesy of the Internet


A while ago, a friend of mine forwarded me a video of a man lying on the floor, foam seeping through his mouth, begging his wife (the one shooting the video), to save him as he was dying.

Fast forward, 2 months later, as I scrolled through my Facebook wall, I saw several other videos - a woman being beaten to a pulp by her husband, a husband exposing his wife for the whore she was, announcing to the world he was divorcing her.

You would think that's all fake news, wouldn't you? No. None of it was, and I can’t help but wonder about the kind of society we have become.

Granted, unfettered access to platforms such as Twitter, Instagram and Facebook have opened doors for many, myself included. Social media:

§  Introduces us to people we would not otherwise meet in real life.

§  Reunites long lost friends while blessing us with new ones.

§  For burgeoning writers, social media broadens one’s horizon. Had I not embraced Twitter, for example, I would not have taken part in pitch contests for my yet to published manuscript or received the valuable feedback I need.

§  Social media has also become a place to unwind, air one’s views, share knowledge, experiences and gain inspiration and insight into the world at large.

§  As every honest, adept social media user will tell you, there is something soul-stirring about seeing the number of views for your video rise. Of seeing that ‘like’, ‘love’, ‘retweet’ and ‘comment’ notification pop on your screen. A chemical called dopamine is released into our body, and we can’t help but feel a surge of pleasure that comes with it.

§  Humans are gregarious creatures and with that comes the occasional craving of validation. We revel knowing that our selfies, motivational messages and videos are well-received and that we have secured our own little community. One that embraces our so-called brand.

§  What’s not to like about following someone’s journey to Timbuktu, watching videos of animals being rescued, men surprising their girlfriends with marriage proposals, a baptism perhaps?

§  I’ve seen people gain instant fame and success via social media. Sometimes all it takes is sharing a status, tagging someone, retweeting and a mention for the right person to discover raw talent.

Beautiful things happen when human beings embrace their uniqueness, authenticity and creativity, offering something no one else can to the world. Isn’t that what we all desire? To bless the world with our gifts and talents, and to show what we bring to the table. Social media has made this dream even more accessible to most of us.

But, during my years of scrolling through my timeline, I’ve noticed an eerie trend. A much dark side of social media that causes us to sacrifice our rationality, humanity and dignity for instant gratification. One must be heard and be seen now.

          “I have a three-strike rule. If I post 3 times and you don’t like, I’m unfollowing you,” one Twitter user wrote.

          “To all my haters who only read but never like or share, f**k you,” another ranted.

One Facebook user, after going live and getting 12 views, deleted their video and suspended their account. They were done!

The problem with dopamine is that it is addictive, which means we must continuously seek the same level of attention to remain satisfied and sane. It is no longer about seeking our hearts and doing what’ right. It’s about how big a tribe can I pull by doing this? 

Unfortunately, for some of us, that means resorting to deprave means to gain popularity and the following are some of the pitfalls:

§  Our hearts have become somewhat hardened, and we become immune to human suffering. For example, what would be one’s motive for standing in a crowd, hiding behind a camera, acting aloof while recording a painful incident instead of coming to the rescue?

§  We all want our fifteen minutes of fame. To be the one that saves the day by providing evidence or highlighting a situation, but at what cost? Why is it no longer enough to do a good deed in secret and still be satisfied?

§  The so-called ghost accounts have made it possible for people to settle scores via social media. Information shared in confidence is shared needlessly, giving little regard for the consequences. We no longer know how to confront issues in person and resolve conflicts behind closed doors. Instead, we seek justice by airing our dirty laundry in public. When we've all logged out of our devices, no one spares a thought for the ruined lives. a

§  Thanks to smartphones, we have mastered the art of doctoring images to name and shame or out of revenge. Even if one eventually proves their innocence, isn't the damage already done? This little regard for human dignity has been the cause of many a suicide. 

  §  Need I remind you of the terrorists who showcase their work on social media?

I once read an article that claims inhumanity has always been ingrained in us, and that social media has just brought things to light. That may be true, but now that we are aware of the consequences, isn’t it time that we work towards curbing the problem and going back to the basics?





Saturday, 24 February 2018

Things That Keep Me Awake At Night.



Image courtesy of the internet

Sometimes it's the cold or the heat. Easily remedied by peeling off a layer or two of my covering, the hot water bottle or... 

On other days all it takes is a nagging word. That careless whisper among friends. A derogatory phrase or statement that unintentionally spills into my ears. I am not in the habit of eavesdropping, but I cannot 'unhear' the words spoken about me or to me. I spend minutes, hours, mulling as I try to decipher their meaning. The intention. When answers fail me, I remind myself of that all-important doctrine which says, I am the master of my thoughts. I have the power over my reactions. I choose what I entertain. So, I let sleeping dogs lie and drift off to sleep.

Sometimes it is the near-misses. Words I could have said to change an outcome. The missed opportunity. That wrong turn I made. If only I could undo it all. What is done is done, I finally let the harsh truth sink. It is only then that I begin to feel the weight of my eyelids.


Image courtesy of the internet.

Occasionally it is the hefty bills. Those red letters the postman keeps tossing through the letterbox. That pile I have not dared to open. The endless phone calls from the lender. As if one reminder is not enough. Don't they know that threats and final warnings will not change my circumstances overnight? That if wishes were horses, I would be buying their electricity and gas company? That I will be the CEO of the most magnificent bank in the world? Yeah, tell that to my sleep.  

Excitement. Joy. Superimposed upon worry. It could be the pains of motherhood. On the one hand, my heart bursts with pride to see my children grow. As time shifts them from one stage to the next, I hold my breath and hope they are learning what they need to learn. At night I break into a cold sweat when I imagine the world in a few years’ time. The time when they will have to fend for themselves. When I am no longer around? I pray I am a good role model. That I have done enough, doing enough. For now, I am glad they are sheltered in my bosom. But I worry the world will soon swallow them up. Things are constantly changing. Wherever they go, messages and indoctrinations are continuously being injected into their brains, subliminally or otherwise, through the internet and other channels. I hope and pray that our preparation will prevent them being tossed out to the sea. Or that when that happens, they can find the strength and courage to swim back to shore.

There are times when I lie awake at night planning and plotting. It’s not what you think. It usually starts with the panic that comes with the realisation that I have wasted the entire day, my whole life. As the guilt of hours spent watching the marathons of Scandal and Autopsy on Netflix rips through me, I go into full-blown panic mode. How could I let the precious hours go to waste without filling a page or two with inspired words, perhaps a bit of editing? My dreams will not materialise out of thin air. At which point I spring from my pillow and compile a comprehensive list of all my deserving accomplishments. Don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for the little things. After all, ‘gratitude shifts your energy and brings you more of what you want.’ I toss these platitudes around to quell despair. I give myself a pep talk - Bertha, you deserve to rest. You deserve some ‘me’ time. After all, you completed a chapter yesterday. You saved a life at work. Now, that is a good compromise, don't you think? 


Sometimes during the small hours of the night, I wrestle with my raging mind. How it shows no mercy by dragging me to back to yesteryear. Back to my roots. Those earlier times when my parents still roamed this earth. Before death snatched them away. As I lay my head on the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, I swear I can see my father smiling at me. I can hear his laughter and smell his snuff which, even now, still tickles my nostrils and almost makes me break into a violent sneeze. 

The yearning for my mother's gentle touch also disturbs the night's tranquillity. I long to hear her sweet voice egging me on. Slowly, the fond memories turn to horror. As reality sets in, sweat and tears drench my nightgown and my pillow. I stare at the ceiling. There is nothing to see except darkness. Nothingness. The void left behind makes my heart jolt with grief. My chest tightens. Sometimes I can feel it being pulled sideways as if by the surgeon's retractor. God, why? Why torment me with such memories if there is nothing I can do to turn back the clock?

There are some moments during the night, which quite frankly, I could do with a pick and a shovel to bury ghosts. Relics from the past. Those friends and lovers with whom I have parted. Why open that Pandora's box if it only curtails my sleep with things that no longer concern me?  Thanks to social media, all it takes is a tap and a click to glimpse into someone's life. Poring over pictures and comparing. How the heart rests when one sees the bulge around their nemesis's waistline. One can't help but notice the banger sitting in their driveway. Hurray! My life is better than theirs. I have a cuter husband. The lies we tell ourselves when we succumb to such whims. I suppose it is human nature to wonder. But I would like to think that such nights are sparse and far in between.



I wish you all pleasant dreams. Come back soon. 

Take care!

Saturday, 12 November 2016

Social Media And Me: Branding And More....


Social media is excellent for business. And for burgeoning authors too. I remember a time when I swore I would rather chew my leg than be seen on Facebook and Twitter. Today, here I am blogging, tweeting and Facebooking my heart out. It is because I have realised that the world has changed, and it will continue to do so. Technology is here to stay, and the sooner I embrace it, the better for my writing career.

Not every writer is into tweeting and Facebooking. However, one cannot ignore the fact that social media now plays a significant role in the world of writing. For some writers, it means the difference between failing and succeeding. Most reading materials are now readily accessible online. It is easy for one to reach many readers in an instant and all it takes is just a click of the button. To turn a blind eye to this truth is utter naivety. And, it is for these reasons that I reckon it does not hurt to be flexible in our approach.

Social media has its downfall. We are a gregarious society and with that comes the desire to be loved. To be embraced and accepted by our audience. There are those who will profess not care in the slightest. I am sorry, but one must be made of stone not to give a damn. The truth of the matter is, everybody cares how others perceive us. It’s human nature. We are bound to feel a sting in the chest if someone or a group of people whose opinion matter to us do not acknowledge our existence. A family member, a friend, a church member, a colleague, a customer or indeed fans. We care.

Also in the world of social media, it is not enough to just toss your product into the world and hope people buy it. You cannot just run a business campaign and think that is enough. One must go a step further to succeed. Everyone is talking about brands nowadays. The brand equals who you are and what you represent. The world wants to know that. Build a reputation, cultivate trust and form relationships with potential customers. Customers will need to decide if your brand is something they wish to align themselves with. Once they know and decide, results start to show.

If you’re an author, this means having to show what you write about. Demonstrating what readers can expect when they buy your books. Can a writer not explore various forms of writing? Experiment? Can’t they just go where inspiration takes them? Why the need to brand? Align oneself with a concept?

Whether we are aware of it or not, we are always branding ourselves anyway. Every individual is inclined to certain things. Subscribes to a specific school of thought. Believes in different things from the next person. Prefers to post certain things on social media and not others. Choice of words, inclinations towards certain genres, our passion. If that’s not branding, I don’t know what is.

 As a writer, I hone my craft daily. I continue to explore and grow in different ways. I am still digging deep and discovering who I am as an individual. I am also considering how I want the world to perceive me as a writer. What I represent. What I am about as an author.

I know the kind of message I want to send out into the world. I want to spread love and light being part of it. But, this process is not without some disastrous consequences. I have noticed that there is a real danger to lose ourselves in the process as we often get caught up in the idea of selling and end up selling our souls to the Devil. We gloss ourselves up as we pander to the society’s expectations. We throw away our values, compromise specific standards and sacrifice our dignity to please the customer. Nothing at all wrong with wanting to satisfy that all-important customer. After all, that is why we do what we do, right? But at what cost?

Social media, as I have discovered, can be the making of us, but it can also destroy us and change us in so many ways. When we sell a product or indeed a piece of writing, it is not at all uncommon to give into the temptation of wanting to hide our true feelings and values. We may even change our words and rein in on our imagination and creativity for fear of being judged and rejected. When this happens, we present a fake persona, a packaged image which we feel will appeal to our potential customers and those watching.

I recently joined Instagram where every photograph is the picture of perfection. Facebook and Twitter too. We often select the best image of ourselves and indeed enhance it, with the help of apps, to present the best possible image to the world. Our lives, as far as social media is concerned, are always perfect. We are forever smiling, checking into fabulous places, jetting around the world and everything is splendid. Very few will dare reveal the not so appealing part of their lives, and I can appreciate why. Studies have demonstrated how social media has and is playing a role in mental health problems such as depression, stress and anxiety. People are made to feel inadequate by comparing their lives to the illusions that they see on social media, and I think this is tragic.

Back to authoring, I am reminded of a time when a friend suggested that I was better off using a different name to sell more books. A name which was more comfortable to pronounce, perhaps which appealed to a kind of reader. Well, excuse me! I like my name just the way it is, thanks. If a reader chooses not to pick my book because of the name on the cover, then it is their loss. I genuinely believe that if it is my destiny to succeed as a writer, then I will realise my goals despite what my name looks or sounds like period. Changing my name or persona to pander to a specific group of people is not going to make me a better writer by any means. It is only going to suffocate me and thwart my real potential as a writer, for no one looks like me, writes like me, thinks like me and is me. I am my own person, and the world will just have to deal with that!

There are those who will tell you not to show the world what you believe. Your faith, spirituality, because not everybody goes to church or believes in what you believe. They will advise you always to be ‘politically correct’ as not all your customers or readers will believe in what you believe. But, isn’t that defeating the whole purpose of branding? Can we ever appeal to everyone? I think not.
I understand it is just business. I get it. Image and likeability are everything, but wouldn’t you rather be liked for being your true self, and acquire genuine followers than disappoint them when the real you surface? Isn’t it better and more satisfying to be admired for who you really are than spend a lifetime pretending to be something you are not? Because you cannot keep the charade forever and forever is too long a time to be suffocated.

How many people have been disappointed after meeting their crush for the first time and discovering that they look different from how they appeared on social media? How many fans have had their hearts broken when they found that their icon was leading a double life? How many celebrities that we loved and admired have committed suicide because they were tired of pretending to the world that they had everything under control? Their bodies got tired of eating relying on drugs just to please you the customer. They got tired of binge eating and then sticking their fingers down their throats to maintain a certain figure to please you, the customer. They got tired of bleaching their skin to appeal to your ideal. They got tired of spending money they did not have. They just got tired.

The society forgets that those who serve them are human beings too. They want to mould these people into something they are not. I am not naive so as not to understand that when you put yourself out there, you subject yourself to all kinds of scrutiny. That is OK. But no one is perfect in this world. And when I say be your real self, I am not at all suggesting that you should air your dirty laundry in public. My message is, be who you are, sell what you need to sell, build your brand without fear of being rejected. The people who matter will appreciate what you are offering regardless of your weight, the colour of your skin or how weird your name sounds.

The consequences of allowing ourselves to be driven by insignificant things are not worth the sacrifice in our lives. Our human dignity. Our peace and happiness. When our bodies and souls finally give up on us, the people we aim to please may mourn us for a while. But, soon, someone else will come along and steal their hearts, and you will quickly be forgotten. Therefore, my message is simple. Stop pretending and just be. There are people out there who will appreciate what you are offering anyway and decide to join you in your walk. When it is all said and done, wouldn’t it be a comforting thought to know that the legacy you leave behind is something borne of your genuine self? That which is purely you. UNIQUE!