YOU ARE!

I’ve spent most of my time the past couple of weeks drowned in novels. In one of these novels, I was introduced to Nnu Ego from the famous ‘Joys of Motherhood‘ who exposed me to the feeling of intense hunger. It was so descriptively put that even I with a full belly felt the wrenching feeling in my gut and my stomach began to rumble. At this pivotal time, I realized that at no point in my life had I ever experienced such hunger for food. The type of hunger that you know that you have no means of quenching.

Sometimes ago , while in serious thought about how I probably needed a raise from my dad, I found myself in a micra (one of those brown and yellow tiny cars driven by very insane people who have no regard for their cars or others cars). I sat at the back and the only other passenger was a man (roughly in his 30s) and his son (roughly about 8 years old). It was quite obvious to me that they could not afford to pay for the trip for two people, hence the man carried his son on his laps. In all of my privilege, I decided to keep to myself on the trip.

Whilst pretending to keep to myself, the boy asked his father rather seriously why his father had refused a job he had been offered. I could only assume that the father had only just recently rejected the offer. The father patiently ran the son through the expenses that he had every month for his family and how such a salary would leave him with scarcely any money for the son’s school fees. He said ‘If I took that job with that salary, you won’t be able to attend school still’. This gave me the impression that the son had not been able to attend school for so long. My heart sunk. I felt this feeling of sadness so much that I just wanted to come out of the cab.

Now, the salary was smaller than the allowance which I was planning to launch a protest for. I immediately became aware of how much privilege I had. I did not have to take a Micra. I compulsorily have to attend school. I am also exposed to enough funds so much that I had time to plot my displeasure. I also have someone to complain to about how the cost of living had really sky rocketed. All of that is privilege and I did not even realize.

In all of my free time, I find myself thinking about how the average man is surviving with a world that’s changing ever so swiftly and I am burdened with an intense feeling of sadness. And that’s  all I can be, Sad. Look at my privilege shining right through. I have the time to be sad.

I came across an Igbo word in one of those such books. Ogadinma. Everything will be alright. And all I’ve been thinking about is maybe I could have simply said to the man ‘Ogadinma”, Things shall be good. But I imagine that if I had said that to him, he might have been upset or rather frustrated. Or maybe it might have put a smile on his face. I’d never know.

Next time though, I’d be sure to say it. I think its the most little service I could offer. And I hope you would too instead of showing indifference. Ogadinma. If by chance, the person asks you what it means, reassuringly put a smile on your face and say :

with all love,

Oluwayemisi.