From Naijasinglegirl Diary; I spent the first three minutes of this phone call repeating the verses of Psalm 91 along with my caller with particular emphasis on verse 10. When we were done, my caller handed the phone to his partner.

"Please try and limit yourself indoors except its absolutely necessary."
"Wash your hands every 30 minutes."
"I heard Obalende is a high-risk area. Don't go there!''
"Remember, anybody that coughs around you is a suspect."
"Anywhere you see blood. Run!"

"Okay mum & dad. I'll be careful." I assured them and heaved a sigh of relief.

Since I live 750 kilometres away from my family, my parent's 5-6 minutes long 6am phone calls on 'daily tips to escape Ebola' has slowly become an alarm clock for me for the past seven days. As at last week Thursday, everyone in my village inclusive of those swimming in illiteracy took it upon themselves to inform me on how to rid myself of Ebola.

'Nne, soak yourself in salt water for thirty minutes.' 'Add salt to your bathing water' 'rub salt all over your body' 'Drink a glass of lipton and warm salt solution.' In a bid to please everyone and stay alive, my strategies are to restrict myself to the confines of my room as much as possible.

There shall be,

1. No More Banking
This means I'll have to manage the little money left in my house. If I go to the bank or ATM for any withdrawal, the banker/ ATM might dispense bank notes deposited by an Ebola carrier which means I might bring Ebola money home.
Since its not possible to quarantine money, I hereby dash Diamond Bank all the money in my account.
After all said and done, what happens after I exhaust the last kobo in my money box?

2. No Marketing
I'd have to improvise with the foodstuff left in my kitchen. If I mix with the crowd at the market, I might put myself at risk of Ebola. If I engage in any sort of buying at the kiosk within my estate, the agege bread I pick might be the one an Ebola carrier weighed earlier or the change given to me by the iya mora might be money handled by someone suffering from ebola. So therefore, whenever I buy stuffs of N10 with N1000 note, iyamora would get to keep the N990 change for herself so I don't bring Ebola money and Ebola bread back home.
But what happens when my foodstuff is down to the last morsel of garri?

3. No job for me
The goal is to limit myself to my bedroom as much as possible so I'd have to put all my job hunting adventures on hold. Most job tests comes in form of computer based aptitude test at the company's HQ and what if I unluckily handle a mouse or keyboard an ebola victim handled? What if I arrive the interview venue armed in a full protective vest and gloves amongst other less meticulous humans? Would the HR find it funny?
A week after, I may end up with a stupid regret email and ebola.
But what happens when Dangote calls me for a computer based aptitude test?

4. No new friends
Handshakes symbolises the beginning of a new friendship. If I happen to meet a guy I like and he stretches out his arm for a handshake, would he let me soak his hands in a pot of methylated spirit before that?
Besides that, I'll be stuck indoors and the chances of a husband dropping through my roof are 0.000000001.
But what happens when I finally find Mr Right at 40 and he refuses to wash his hands in methylated spirit?

5. No relationship
Gone are the days of accepting invitations from guys to 'come chill at my crib'. Sorry, I have my own fridge now.
During cold nights, I'll have to forget any form of physical intimacy, drink hot tea and cover myself with the blood of Jesus. Ebola is real people!
Right now, I am open to only long distance relationships. After all, Ebola cannot be transmitted through skype conversations, emails and phone calls.
But what happens when I run out of MB and airtime?

7. No more suya
God in heaven knows the most hurting fact of Ebola is the fact that bush animals are hosts and y'all know I am one hell of a bad ass carnivore. I can say no to any living thing that breathes in oxygen. I can't even prepare noodles without adding any four legged creature I catch sight of.
Suya, peppersoup, antelope meat and the likes are now marked off my diet.
During the era of bird flu, my family got 3 full chickens for N200 each that christmas and we cooked them with holy water.
As much as I'll like to take advantage of the price slash in monkey meat, Ebola has made bird flu and HIV seem like a child's play.
But what happens when I'm offered a plate of assorted peppered bush meat prepared with scent leaves and palm oil?

8. No more okrika
Henceforth, I have no business with N50 okrika clothes popularly known as second hand clothes. What if the former owner died of Ebola?
Ok bra, Ok pants, Ok tops, Ok shoes, you would never find me at Yaba market making my pick on bended knees. I don't care if its Yvonne Nelson old pant or President Ellen Johnson old bra, nothing shall make me bring exposed Ebola clothes home.
Now is the time to get rich enough to patronise top designers or settle my beef with my Aba brothers.

9. Relocation
One day, I'll eventually get tired of sleeping and waking up in a bathtub of salt and steaming dettol.
I'll get tired of having boiled kolanuts for breakfast, fried kolanuts for lunch and roasted kolanuts for dinner.
I might look out of my window and find corpses of people who didn't take Ebola precautionary measures like me.
When that happens, I'd have to leave Lagos for least populated rural areas like those villages in Obubra Area of Cross River State, those forests in Benin, Oyi village in Enugu State or some other place far from civilisation.
But I'll have to trek from Lagos to the south since my goal is to avoid contact with humans including those in cramped vehicles.
But what if the landlords in rural areas have envisage this and are getting ready one room huts to let out for 200k per year?
Besides that, villages are the headquarters of monkeys and bush animals.
Forests in Benin are where bats and others ebola-carrying creatures flourish.

How far can my ignorance take me?