I woke up this morning thinking about courage, how some people can be so daring, so fearless, that it makes one pause and interrogate one’s own experiences, even to the point of self-discomfort. Courage has many faces. Sometimes it inspires admiration; other times it provokes bewilderment.
I remember a time when I would whisper silent prayers just to gather the nerve to cross an overhead bridge. A flyover felt like a personal test of faith. Height, speed, exposure had a way of reminding me how fragile the human body is and how easily confidence can evaporate.There are moments when I think that even the most hardened sinner should have a soft spot for caution.
Truly, it is puzzling to imagine that anyone, whether in a car speeding down a highway, a plane suspended in the sky, or a ship floating on restless waters could be consumed by desire of any kind, no matter how tempting. At such moments, instinct should redirect the mind. These are situations where one remembers God the most, because every slight mistake, every mechanical fault, every unseen error lies beyond human control and squarely in the hands of fate, or, as believers would say, the Almighty.
Perhaps this is why people pray before journeys and why friends and relatives instinctively say “safe journey.” It is a collective acknowledgment of human vulnerability.
Sociologists have long argued that rituals around travel are coping mechanisms, subtle ways societies manage fear and uncertainty.
Even Émile Durkheim would agree that such shared expressions reinforce collective consciousness in the face of danger.
Yet the thought of indulgence while on board, a private jet, no less, sent my mind wandering. I caught myself saying “wow,” some people truly have liver, as we would say locally, even well into old age. Fear, I once believed, grows with age because maturity brings reflection.
Younger people, driven by youthful exuberance, may appear fearless simply because they have not yet learned to pause. But then again, perhaps daring has less to do with age and more to do with temperament.
This reflection was stirred by a headline making the rounds, reported by Intel Region:
South African adult-content creator reacts after Adams Oshiomhole claims private jet clip was AI-generated.
The story, dated February 4, 2026, details how a video allegedly showing Senator Adams Oshiomhole aboard a private jet, massaging a woman’s feet, went viral and ignited widespread reactions across social media. Initial speculations suggested the woman might be his wife, Lole Fortes, but disagreements over appearances quickly fueled deeper online investigations.
Soon, Nigerians dug further and identified a young South African influencer and adult-content creator, Leshaan Dagama, linked to TikTok and Instagram. On her profile, she describes herself as a “professional sugar baby,” openly cautioning financially unstable individuals to keep their distance. Meanwhile, the 73-year-old senator, through his media aide, dismissed the clip as AI-generated.
What complicated matters was Leshaan Dagama’s response. Unlike the senator, she did not deny the video. Instead, she confirmed she was the woman in the clip and urged Nigerians to redirect their anger toward their elected representative, stating plainly, “Your senator is the problem, go be mad at him, not me.”
Yes, someone is indeed a problem here. To me, the situation feels like making advances during a funeral or in an examination hall, the kind of spaces where the mind is expected to be restrained, focused, and aware of consequence.I thought such feelings thrived in moments of rest, peace of mind, and relief.
Who truly has all that serenity while suspended in the air, thousands of feet above the ground, without at least one moment of remembrance of the Almighty? One does not need to be a saint to expect a pause, a line that should not be crossed. Perhaps this is not just about one man or one video, but about the daring nature of man itself: our strange ability to defy fear, context, and even common sense, sometimes to our own undoing.
Bagudu Mohammed
