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WHAT MY MOTHER AND DOLLY PARTON TAUGHT ME

When the cassette tape played, I was seldom interested in the lyrics—how likely was a 6-year-old to care? Yet I could feel sorrow, compassion, and sadness in the singer’s voice. I imagined someone hurting her. Was she hit, betrayed, lonely? Her voice held a mystery I wanted to uncover, but she was miles away from me. Since I could not unravel the enigma, I let the thought go. As I grew older, my mother did not grow tired of playing the cassette tape. I could not hide from hearing it either, unless I could afford a roof over my head. One evening, during the holiday and with no homework to attend to, I had to ask her. ‘Mum, who’s this person always sad when they’re singing?’ ‘You mean all this time, you don’t know it’s Dolly Parton? And who told you she’s sad? When you truly express how you feel, it is not always a sad tale, my girl. Do you even know what this song playing is about?’ ‘Yes, ma. It’s her coat of many colours, just like the one Joseph had, right?’ ‘Eh en. Only hers was give...
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THE EGYPTIAN OR ME?





THE EGYPTIAN OR ME?

On my way back from a lucky-less interview I met an Egyptian man asking for directions to a pot shop close by. He had on this sorry look like a man who had just lost his job. When I think of it now, I think it was because I thought we shared a mutual feeling that was why I even stopped to listen to him.
“I look for pot shop close here. You know?” He asked.
At first I could hardly understand him until I noticed he was holding a photo of the pot shop in his hands. I pointed towards the direction, telling him the easiest way to get there. Suddenly, this short movie became annoying when this sun-tanned chubby looking man asked for my almost-emptied bottle of water. That bottle of water was my first meal, friend and companion after my horrific interview- an interview that I was made to wait for hours only to be told that the boss had traveled and won’t be back any time soon. That bottle of water helped me hide my tears as I drank it while I struggled with my thoughts of how I would survive through the month and there was this foreigner asking for it.
“No! I want to drink it so I can’t give it to you.” I said to him.
And this was what this man had to say to me: 
“Egypt good. Nigeria no good. I test you to give me water. You say no. you, you no good at all. No like you. I only test you and you fail.”

As he walked away, I just stood there watching him. He looked worse than I did; tired and disappointed. I couldn’t tell if his meeting me even heightened his current state. I could only tell that he hated my country maybe even more than I did. Was I really as bad as my country? Was I without compassion for the man? It was just water after all and I could not even share it or give it out rightly. Why would he use water as a test? He must have not gotten over the parting of the Red Sea. Yet, I felt bad for allowing my pains take over my compassion, for treating another with such inequity whether I was being tested or not.

I walked home consoling myself with the fact that the man’s dentition needed immediate deliverance. Only Jesus would share a bottle of water with such a person. “If I ever visit Egypt. I will surely not share a bottle with anyone, I thought.” However, the truth of the issue is that our country really makes us who we are. Whether the Egyptian was right or not, deep down I know that nothing should make me behave less of a human being but as hard as I try, my country just wants to pull me down with it. It especially tampers with my goodwill. I am afraid that I will lose it.
A Shared Experience.

Comments

  1. Unknown15 September 2019 at 08:36

    Interesting write up very educative and inspiring.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous15 September 2019 at 09:30

    Very true. Sometimes we let the state of this country get to us so much that we lose empathy

    ReplyDelete
  3. EMMAWAD18 September 2019 at 15:14

    Well said...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Unknown23 January 2020 at 04:31

    Interesting! This mood thing ehnnn....both the Egyptian and the Nigerian, in such, everyone is a victim of it jaare!!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Rukeiyahh1 March 2020 at 00:26

    Nice one!

    ReplyDelete

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