A Drowning World

by Ranti Oyebode

The world is sinking.

It has been for generations. Tokyo went under first, then Mumbai. Next were New York and Osaka. Before you could blink, the water levels were rising 14 inches a year instead of 0.14. I am from Jakarta, a city that now exists only in stories and faded photographs. Before I took my first breath, it was already overcome by the waves.

As the water continued its relentless advance, swallowing city after city, my family and I found ourselves constantly on the move, seeking refuge on higher ground wherever possible. We were among the lucky ones who had managed to secure passage on one of the last remaining ships that roamed the ever-growing oceans, searching for habitable land.

But even aboard our vessel, safety was a fleeting illusion. Supplies dwindled with each passing day, and tensions among the passengers simmered beneath the surface like a dormant volcano, ready to erupt. The bustling ship that once felt like the civilization we used to know now felt like a ghostly echo of the world we had left behind. The atmosphere served as a sad reminder of the civilization swallowed whole by the relentless tides.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, I found solace in the quiet moments I spent alone, staring out at the vast expanse of water that stretched endlessly in every direction. It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, a constant reminder of the fragility of our existence in the face of nature's unstoppable force. But as the days turned into weeks and months, a glimmer of hope emerged on the horizon. Rumours spread among the passengers like wildfire, whispering of a mythical land where the waters had yet to reach. A sanctuary untouched by the ravages of the rising seas.

It was a long shot, a desperate gamble in a world where hope was in short supply. But for me, it was a chance worth taking—a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounded us. An opportunity to escape the life I was living—sitting around waiting to die.

Leaving my family behind was the hardest decision I had ever made, but I knew that if there was any hope of finding a place brimming with life, untouched by my ancestors, I had to take the risk. So, armed only with a small boat, I ventured into the unknown.

The journey was long and arduous, fraught with danger at every turn. Nature was not kind to those she felt had neglected their duty. However, as I continued forward, I saw a forest. An actual forest. A forest filled with brilliant sequoias and redwoods like the ones I had seen and read about in books. Mountains rose like emerald jewels, their lush greenery starkly contrasting the water around them.

As I approached the shore, a rush of emotions flooded over me. Relief, awe, and disbelief mingled within me as I stepped onto solid ground for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The earth beneath my feet was damp and fertile, teeming with life. With each step deeper into the forest, I felt a sense of renewal. Birds chirped overhead, their melodic songs echoing through the trees, while small animals scurried about, oblivious to the chaos that had consumed the rest of the world. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to dream. For a new beginning and a chance to rebuild and start afresh in this untouched paradise. But as the sun began to set, casting golden hues across the sky, a nagging doubt crept into my mind.

Was I truly alone in this haven, untouched by the waters? Or were there others like me, seeking refuge amid the chaos? Only time will tell, but for now, I allowed myself to bask in the beauty of the moment, grateful for the chance to see a world untouched by the ravages of the quickly rising seas.