Hashtag faith

In this religion, the smartphone is the temple and the influencer is god

in a cute basket for a Sunday picnic with a red chequered tablecloth. Soon, followers flocked to her social media platforms, hanging onto every sponsored post and product recommendation as if they were divine decrees.

As the following grew, so did the devotion. Hashtags became prayers, with worshippers fervently typing #Blessed, #ClosetoNature, and #PeacefulLife under each post. The influencer, basking in the adoration, starts posting photos of lavish lifestyles and sponsored vacations with “Feeling #blessed by your devotion” captions.

In this new religion, the temple is the smartphone screen, and the holy text is the Terms and Conditions. The clergy are the verified accounts, and the sacraments are the latest beauty products and fashion trends.

As the influence continues to grow, so does the temptation to monetise status. The influencer begins selling branded merchandise and offering premium content for a subscription fee. The faithful eagerly open their wallets, eager for a taste of the divine.

But like all empires built on social media, the influencer’s reign is not without its pitfalls. Scandals erupt as former disciples come forward with tales of exploitation and manipulation. The influencer’s carefully crafted image begins to unravel, revealing a flawed human being behind the filters and hashtags. Not wanting to lose the title, the influencer releases an “apology video”. The followers see their god crying. It is ugly. The room is dark today. There are no rosy cheeks, and the hair is unkempt. The nails are not pedicured, and there is snot.

The faithful realise it is just another human being and the number of followers comes down drastically. Critics tell them to take it as a cautionary tale about the dangers of placing too much faith in the fleeting world of social media. As the dust settles, the faithful are left to ponder their misplaced devotion. As they search for meaning in the glow of their screens, another charismatic person posts a video of storing detergent pods in mason jars. had his house by the side of a lake. A nearby swamp with mangroves was an ideal and safe haven for hundreds of fireflies.

But time has brought many inevitable changes to our once beautiful landscape. The pond in my courtyard no longer exists, the canal which used to flow silently along our homestead is now a village road, and the marsh alongside Obby’s house has given way to encroachments.

The village has grown into a city and electrification has robbed us of the velvet darkness that gave the best backdrop for fireflies to display their magical glow. Only very few of these glittering insects remain now.

Though we are blessed with many amenities now, development has taken away many of the natural wonders.