I’m not quite certain if I have aquaphobia or bathophobia. Aquaphobia is “a specific phobia that involves a level of fear of water that is beyond the patient’s control”, while bathophobia means “the fear of depths; a fear or anxiety associated with the sea or water bodies of various types.” If there’s anything that I’m scared of, besides death, it’s deep water. I’m extremely afraid of water in rivers, dams and lakes. I’m not sure if I also fear the sea and the ocean, because I’ve never set my feet in any one of them.

When I see deep water, I think of two things. First, I think of drowning. Second, I think of the creatures that inhabit the water. Perhaps this is why I sometimes suffer from bad dreams, where I normally find myself running away from water snakes. Maybe my nightmares have been induced by the hallucinations that emanate from my fear of depths.

My home is close to a man-made dam. When I’m at home, I can clearly see people fishing, and water birds swimming and wading. This dam is only 50 metres below my family’s yard. It’s been there for as long as I can recall, for ages. I’ve been living here since I was born. My parents said that in 1979, when they first embarked on building the house, the dam already existed. That was even before I was conceived.

When I was five or six, I began playing in this dam. We would go into the dam, try to swim and throw stones at the water birds living in the dam. I would only partake in these activities when my mother was not around or not watching. She would not tolerate any nonsense from us, her children. She wouldn’t allow us to take any chances with our lives.

My mother was a stern woman. She knew that playing in the water was not safe for children. She would tell my siblings and I that we should desist from swimming in the dam because she considered that it was risky to do so. Her concern was that we might end up submerging ourselves and drowning. When she saw us toying around near the dam, she would shout to us and tell us to move away from the dam. If we failed to obey her instructions, we would get spanked. Hence, we were always conscious of the consequences that would follow. Nevertheless, at times, we would lose focus and start doing what she normally prevented us from doing. But then we would suffer her punishment.

Despite that, other older boys from within the village or from other villages would come to the dam to swim during hotter days. Most of them were good swimmers, and I wished that I could swim like them. All the same, there were yet others who were not really good at swimming like myself. They were still novice swimmers, but were ready to learn to swim like the best. I was tempted to join these boys when I witnessed them gathering besides the dam. I wanted to go and be with them, but when I thought of my mother, I would distance myself from them and observe them from far away, from my home’s yard. I had a good view, but being in their midst was something else. It really felt so damn good.

There were many things that drew me to join them: the amusing jokes they normally cracked and the actions they used to do after repeatedly inhaling benzene or glue. They were so funny to watch. I was always happy to be around them. Listening to their conversations made me laugh my lungs out. Sometimes, as they got more inebriated, they would begin acting strangely. They would point their fingers at the water as if they were witnessing something that captivated their thoughts. Perhaps they were just experiencing hallucinations. I’m not sure because I’ve never “smoked” glue or benzene.

They would end up throwing themselves into the water to dive and swim. As they floated, they would embark on competing against each other. They would race to the other side of the dam. Those who were good at swimming would swim across to determine who would emerge victorious. The beginners would not go in too deep, they would play it safe. They would wade in the shallow water to practice, and as they got better they would also start to compete. Through constant encouragement from the experienced swimmers, the novices would want to prove that they could also make it across the dam.

Nonetheless, as the swimming continued, some of the new swimmers would start to sink as they experienced fatigue. The best swimmers would come to their deliverance. These experiences did not deter the new swimmers. Instead, they strived to better their skills until they were nearly perfect. Then they would challenge themselves again.

Tell us what you think: Are you afraid of deep water?