Okay, I took a break last week. I’ll just go ahead to confess that nothing happened to me and no, it was not Ebola-phobia. I was just errrm busy. I have been doing some things and I want to get them right. However, I could have posted something. I was lazy. No vex abeg. *prostrates*


There is no other way to start this week's post than by saying that there are blogs I love reading. When I say that, here is what I mean: not reading any of their posts is like asking me to strip before five year olds which should make any teen uneasy. There are many of them. I can’t list them all but I think a post on my top *** (no number yet) blogs and websites should come soon. Atilola’s World is one of them. So, two weeks ago, Atilola wrote a post, Cascaded Little Things, where she examined why the Nigerian situation is such a bad one. She attributed this to our resolve not to do some supposed little things right. Things like jumping the queue at ATM outlets, running red lights, littering public spaces and so on seem our true nature. See, you should read the post yourself; it’s something little too. 

See this person o. Yes, you! You want to say you didn’t read the last sentence abi? Oya go back and click the link. Haha.

This post is not in any way different from Atilola’s; just a shikini addition. Do you know the supposed small people in the teeny-weeny imagination of some Nigerians are the ones who run this country? I wonder what this nation would look like without all those ‘small’ people whose contributions to life and living we don’t value. I’ve got nothing much to write, but take this from me: it is when we begin to value the gatemen, the cleaners (yes, the OYES people), housekeepers (like me), all them Mallams and Yellow Fever people, the ‘risky’ sellers around and their substantial contributions to our lives that we’ll learn to do things right. Think of the doro-mega-superlative mess the poo you just emitted would have become before the cleaner arrives and you’ll learn to flush public toilets after use. Was your mother or grandmother the one assigned to cleaning your street, you’ll not finish doing it with your one-night stand babe by some street corner while you leave your used condom on the same spot for your servant(s) to pick the next day. True? Say false make I...

A couple of Nigerians have it wired into their genes that doing these little things are not for them. I loathe how the supposed big people do theirs more. Here is an example: some son of a big man is willing to coerce a bank’s doorman into granting him access into the banking hall, the long queue on ground notwithstanding. So he walks up to the latter and expects him to begin to cower before him because of the son of who he is. He threatens to put mechanisms in place and make sure the doorman is sacked. So, the supposed ‘small’ man, torn between doing his bidding and facing the wrath of the people on the queue, begins to beg. Oga Rich Man’s Son on most occasions joins the queue, but he basks in the euphoria of having been able to assert his authority on someone.

Someone once told me that the first set of people he sends new month messages are the supposed ‘small’ people in his life: his messenger, mechanic and his wife’s baby-sitter. We may not be doing that, but we ought to at least do things - the little ones especially - right. We know them. The supposed ‘small’ people should earn our compassion and appreciation too. They are not shit. Don't treat them like such. 

And I said there was nothing much to write o. Kai! See what Naija matter can cause. Ayam sorry.

***

 You love what you read here? Kindly share. 

0 comments:

Post a Comment

About this blog

Of literature 'n' living. Me too. *winks*

Popular Posts

Follow me on Twitter

See What I'm Reading

See What I'm Reading

Featured Post

Between Death and 'I'

For Mummy EOO I His grandfather. It dawned on him that he wouldn’t want to be like the old man, as rich as he was. The name ...

Oyebanji Ayodele. Powered by Blogger.