Nigeria, Jan. 4 -- Every year, at the exact moment the calendar changes, humanity attempts something quietly radical. We count down not because time listens, but because we need to believe it does. Fireworks split open the sky in cities that have known war, debt, hunger, and grief. Champagne is poured where clean water is rationed. In refugee camps, in cramped apartments, in places where tomorrow already feels like a threat, borrowed phones glow as midnight arrives without permission. And for a fleeting, synchronized moment, the world agrees to begin again. Few rituals remain truly global. We disagree on almost everything faith, politics, borders, even facts. Time itself fractures us into unequal zones of day and night. Yet the New Year s...