Teach the children well

In the mid 70s, my husband, a newly qualified medical doctor arrived in this country for his post graduate program. One day he was asked by a member of hospital staff if it was true that Africans live in trees. He looked the lady from head to toe and then up again, smiled and walked away.

 Some months later, when he was back home on holiday, he bought a post card (the ubiquitous kind that shows swaying palm trees kissing the white sands, beside a calm, blue sea)  Turning to the little space often left for messages, he wrote: “Back home and having a lovely time. If you look carefully, you will see me perched on one of the coconut trees.”  He sent it off to the lady - upon return, she never spoke to him again!

 Fast forward 33 years later to yesterday. I was invited by a school to help with their African study month. I had two sessions with two classes, each consisting of 30 seven-year olds. We had a ball. We talked about the different people that make up my country, in comparison with theirs. We danced, talked about and shared some of the food produced in the vast arable land of my fathers. We discussed the different languages that make the country unique and tried some of them out. We looked at the part played by folklore in the lives of children and shared a story. We had a good laugh. But I also noticed something.

 The children were surprised when I told them that houses range from big mansions to make-shift huts belonging to the nomads; that some children play with X-boxes just as they do here, as well as home made toys for those who cannot afford proper toys. They wowed when I mentioned that some kids go to school in their parent’s cars or buses, while many others walk to school. Their jaws dropped when they realized that there are some big schools in my country, as well as those made of baked mud and rusty zinc roofs. Their reaction set my teeth on edge so I decided to ask them what they have been learning about my country. Many hands shot up.

 “We have learned that people do not have food to eat,” piped up an innocent voice. I felt a lump in my throat but pushed it down with a smile. “Right!”, I said turning to another little hand and excited face. “There are lots of diseases in your country.” My smile grew wider as the lump was joined by another choking one. “Great! Awesomely great!! What else do you know about my country,” I squeaked, praying for a miracle. “What is hepatitis? My dad went to climb Kilimanjaro and became sick.” “No, Kilimanjaro is in Tanzania,” said the teacher, shutting the child up.

 Well well!! So, of all the things children could have learned about this country, all they know of it are diseases and hunger. What a picture for their little minds! Yet the country in question:

• Was using iron and other metals by about 500BC (Iron age Nok culture)
• Had an ancient form of writing (Nsibidi) that existed over 1000 years ago.
• Is the sixth largest oil producer in the world and among the top five coco bean producers (they would have loved to know how chocolates get to them!)
• Has more writers and authors than the rest of West Africa combined and has produced the only black African to have won the Nobel Prize for Literature.
• Is noted globally for its arts and craft, its population (every third African is from this country) and over 100 different languages.

 There is no denying that some people go hungry in my country, just as in many other countries, or the fact that people suffer from various diseases. What country doesn’t? But spending weeks teaching children only negative things about a country is a great disservice to us all; it is unpardonable and morally wrong.

 It is like teachers in my country sitting their children down for a lesson in this foreign land. They then spend hours telling them that every adult, including their parents must undergo criminal checks before they are allowed to enter their school and interact with children, because there are many perverts preying on kids. It is like teaching them that people sleep on park benches with cardboards for blankets because they are homeless. Or they could tell them that the government pays people to be unemployed and lazy. Yea, sounds nasty, doesn’t it?

 Let’s learn to teach our children right and stop filling their minds with negatives and running other countries down!

Availing ourselves of opportunites

One of my big regrets in life – and I don’t have many of those – is that I cannot speak Arabic. Yet I lived in Saudi Arabia for years! The excuse I have always used when asked is that because we lived in an expatriate community, I did not have proper chance to learn it. Baloney!  Yes, we did live an exclusive life, but hey, I worked and interacted socially with Saudis and others Arabs. I held good cards but did not play them well.  I was brain lazy and simply content to learn enough to get by; especially when out shopping. Shukran!

 Opportunities often come to us disguised as hard work so most of us don’t recognize them even if they are staring us in the face. If only I had listened to Churchill who warned that the pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity while the optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty. Accepting that I am a pessimist is rather hard to swallow. I always prided myself as an optimist.

 Count yourself lucky if you still have the chance to recapture lost opportunities. I know a lady who at 42 is trying to pick up the shattered pieces of her education. She dropped out aged 15 because according to her, she was surrounded by discouragers. “My mother never believed that I could amount to anything and because she did not go through school, felt that neither I nor my siblings should do so.” We all ended up doing menial and boring jobs.” But the sun is rising again for her. She is now attending night school and tackling her O-level papers one at a time. I have noticed that her hitherto stooped shoulders are getting straighter and there seems to be more bounce in her steps.

 I will not live in Saudi Arabia again. I might never speak fluent Arabic. But I am determined never to allow good things to pass me by again. I will give every chance that life throws my way the best shot. I will forever remind myself of the Arabic proverb which says that “four things come not back: the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life and the neglected opportunity.”

 So watch out Mr. Opportunity.  If you are flying by, I will jump high and grab you. If you are at ground level, I will stoop and pick you up. I will even develop eyes at the back of my head so that I can spy you. Any way you come, I will be ready.

 And so should you.

 

Daughter of an Alzheimer sufferer

I spent the few weeks before Christmas visiting with my mother who at 98 is suffering from Alzheimer's disease. The last time I visited with her in December of 2007, we could still hold some conversations, she could still recognize me, she could still feed herself and take care of her personal hygiene. "Wow!" I said to myself, "this old, lovable, proud, high achieving bird can still fly high!!"

 But this time, it was very different and heart wrenching for me. In all the weeks I stayed with her, she did not recognize me. Yet she kept telling me about me. "Come, this lady sitting here, do you know that I have a daughter called Norah?" "Mama," I would say holding her hand and looking into her eyes, "It's me and I have been with you for days." She would then either say “OK” or “Is it really you?,” then immediately regress to her life as a girl living with her parents.  Luckily, she had a wonderful childhood within a noble family. This was reflected on her face as she talked and even 'interacted' with her parents and brother.

 It is sad to see one's mother reduced to a level where life as we know it, no longer has a meaning, where she cannot eat unless fed, where she cannot attend to her toilet needs unless assisted. I shed buckets of tears during my stay with her. I kept remembering a lady who ran a busy domestic science school and whose very presence was enough to put fear in people. In my mind’s eyes, I could still hear her witty words and feel her sharp mind and even witness her cut my medical father down with the turn of her head. Yes, father had a better education but mother went through the University of Life and emerged sharper than a Harvard graduate. Together, they brought up children who did not only fear God but also grew up respecting man but with our shoulders held high.

 Watching my mother going through what seems like second childhood was not amusing. It reminded me again that this life can often end up controlling us despite all our efforts to take charge of it. But I was also grateful to God for His mercies and the fact that the only part of her suffering is her mind. The rest of her is as tough as nails and she actually looks like she could last another 20 years! Her eyesight is perfect, her teeth are strong and complete and she hardly suffers a sniffle. She sings all day long (songs she learned as a young girl), and enjoys her food.

 I thank and admire all those who care for Alzheimer sufferers. Mother is lovingly cared for by my youngest brother Kenneth, whose wife happens to be a registered nurse, a maid and others who love her.

 I am happy that I could be with her. Yes, she did not know that it was me, but I knew that it was her. She fed me as a child so I was able and glad to feed her this time round. She washed and clothed me and I have done the same for her. But more importantly, I listened to her stories, respected her and actually had a wonderfully good time visiting with her.

 

Consequences of Obama's Win

When you constantly tell your child that he can do anything, and that there is nobody like him, he starts believing in himself and living out your expectations. Barack Obama’s family must have said that to him when he was still a nipper. That is why today, he has been elected as the 44th president of USA.

Obama’s victory is being felt all over the world. I believe that the reason for this is due to its many consequences, including:

• People the world over will start believing that dreams do come true. If we aim high and give our all to our heart’s desires, the sky would be our limit. Yes, many will try to knock us down along the way. Many more would try to besmirch our character. But if we keep our eyes on our goals, we will make it.
  
• There is going to be a paradigm shift, similar to what Oprah called “a shift in consciousness” in black Americans, especially the men. They will be able to walk taller and aspire for greater things, knowing that they are possible, that they can be done. The days are gone when they lived with big chips on their shoulders. Today, those chips will have started to fall off.
  
• The world will be more united. The young will see Barack as their ideal. Non-Western countries will see him as a brother and work closely with him for the good of the entire world. Older white folks who are still steeped in ignorance and racial bias will be forced to look inwards and hopefully have a change of mind and attitude.
  
• African leaders will see a child of theirs as the leader of a great nation and work harder not to let him down. This they will do by working harder to uphold the dignity of Africans, which does not seem to be their focus right now.
  
• His campaign slogan was “CHANGE”. He is not perceived as part of what one would call the ‘establishment. He offers an opportunity to look at many things in a different, fresh way, not through the blurred spectacles of the past, or the status quo. That is one hope that many people have and hope to realize through him. The current world order, including economics, trouble in the Middle East, insecurity of air travel, world-wide ‘terrorism’, vilification of Muslims, or specific nations….these are potentially all up for review and hopefully change for good.
  
• P Diddy said that growing up; he would have been too embarrassed to say that he would like to be the president of America. But he can now see his children saying and believing that it is possible. Young men and women of all colours, races and religion will relate to this. What a consequence!

Yep, change has come to America. But the change is not only in America. It has come to the world. Way to go Barack! Congratulations and make those who believe in you proud!!

Life's simple pleasures

My husband, Emmanuel, has a few acts that he calls life's little pleasures. These include stopping on a lay by along open country roads to watch the sun go down, munching on a bowl of corn, simply popped with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt. Of course I can't conclude this list without adding his best-ever pleasure, eating roasted corns.

I remember once on a drive from Ayia napa back to Limassol during one of our trips to Cyprus. We suddenly chanced upon a roadside stand of a corn roaster setting up his wares. Corn!, I shouted, not really for my own sake but for his (yea, sure!) Emmanuel almost brought the car to a complete standstill right there on the road and then whipped round the steering for a perfect u-turn. Boy, did I thank my lucky stars that the island's police were probably busy inside the city where they felt that unruly tourists only existed! I am still trying to remember how long it took before we could stand another meal after attacking the corn that evening. For the seller, it must have been the best day ever. Yep, this is one of life's simple pleasures.

The last weekend also went down on my list of a pleasurable period. In fact, I had a weekend many people out there would give all their wealth to have. No, I didn't pull out all stops on my credit card at the boutiques; neither did I spend an evening at the best French restaurant in town. I was home cooking and chilling with some of my children and their friends who came down from London. It was good having them and somehow, the house expanded to contain everybody. At one point, I had twelve people inside, with most sitting around the dining table. These were mostly young professionals like doctors, bankers and financial analysts. For the weekend, they forgot the world of credit crunch, sick patients and dwindling clients. It was joy and laughter all the way.

Having most of my family under one roof was a joy. I kept looking at them, listening to their peculiar laughter and feeling that all was well. Emmanuel and I exchanged a few smiles and hugs and thanked God for his blessings. He felt that I was spending a lot of time in the kitchen though. What he did not realize was that as a mother, it was simply the best place to be, then. What's more, I knew that I was not going to bother with cleaning up afterwards. My children are aces at that.

Yep, it was one of life's simple pleasures and one I could not exchange for all the gold in Christendom.

Blow that low self esteem!

Have you ever felt that you missed out when God was dishing out talents to humans? Do you know someone who feels that he/she is good at nothing? Then let me tell you some home truth. There is no human that is useless in everything. Hey, even animals; who are considered lower than us, are talented. As I write this, a beautiful squirrel is in my garden making, what in my human eyes is a mess, but what in his is a methodology for unearthing some sustenance. Wish there is a way of letting it know that it must clean up after its mess! I just tidied my garden over the weekend.

I had a friend who used to envy my writing skills. She believed that she was 'no good' at anything, not even raising her kids, although she had three beautiful and well-mannered daughters that were the envy of the community. But try telling her that and she would quickly tell you that you were just saying it to make her feel good. She walked about with hunched shoulders, never looking people in the eyes. To make herself feel useful and wanted, she tried pleasing everybody, and subsequently got used by many.

This lady's curry dishes were to-die-for. Her chapattis rivalled those of Madhur Jafffery on Western palate, and her desserts were irresistible even for die-hard dieters. I knew because I was one of those who benefited from her largess and free nosh. Sad to say that some of us started asking her to produce dishes for our parties for free, which she was glad to do. We even passed these creations off as the works of our hands!

Still dying to be a writer, she once sent me her 'masterpiece' to view. It was worse than awful. A junior high school kid could have done better. Sorry to say that I took delight in changing the colour of her pages with a yellow marker! Her shoulders hunched twice after she received the corrected pages. "I told you that I can never be good at anything," she lamented.

That was when I allowed my good side to take over. My friend had very low self esteem. This has been described as the sum of a set of judgements about one's value, worthiness, and competence in various domains. She did the sum and got zero! I knew that she was high on the achievement ladder and just needed someone to point that out. About time I did some good deed, I told myself.

The next time she came bearing another awesome dish, I called her aside for a chat.
"Do you realise that your curry is the talk of this community?"
"O no!" she exclaimed her shoulders falling down a couple of notches, "I knew it, I knew that I can never make a good curry. People take it and pretend to like it. O dear, shall I...?"
"No, no, no, please listen" I cut in, placing a hand on her shoulders and pushing her face up. "You curry is the best for miles around and not only your curry," I rushed on. " Your pizza is great and your desserts even greater."
"Oh really?", she beamed looking me in the eyes.
"Yes," I continued. Have you ever considered selling these masterpieces because folks would pay a lot to have you cook for them."
"No! no!! no!! I can never do that."
"Yes! yes!!, yes!!! you can, and you should start by participating in the next International Food festival the community is holding."

To cut a long story short, she did sell her food and made quite a killing. That led to orders and sales from home. A lucrative business had taken off.

My friend started walking tall and I stopped getting free curries! But that's alright. The important thing was that she found her true calling

Have you found yours? I know that it is there. Just look hard or consult your friends. The honest ones will always tell you what you are good at.

Unless like me, they enjoy letting you steam for sometime.

The trouble with preconception

Why do we spend our lives in loneliness and isolation when there are wonderful folks out there who would not only be company but also enrich our lives?

Today, I decided to go out of my self-induced-home loving-but-lonely-self and take an acquaintance out for lunch. The fun started when I stopped at her house to pick her up. I spent twenty minutes getting to know her and her partner better (by the way, I dont like the term partner!). This was an education on its own because this older gentleman is a repository of history. Every utterance of his was peppered with wisdom. He read books from authors I never knew existed, who write about topics I never knew had been written about. I left promising to seek out the nearest library to my house.

My friend knew this place where they serve great Caribean food. We decided to patronize our brothers. The food lived up to expectation so we asked to give our compliment directly to the chef. Out came this brother with the most amazing dreadlocks; neatly gathered and held with a blue bandana. Now, I must confess that I have never talked to a guy with dreadlocks. Why? Because of some preconcived notion that dreadlocks signify trouble. I bought the unschooled and ignorant notion that wearers are rebels. I can now confute this belief, thanks to the young man who spent just fifteen minutes with us and left me ashamed of my unjustified belief.

From St Kitts, he is working two jobs to ensure that not only himself but his people back home are alright. His dream is to go home, although he regrets the fact that his beautiful island is falling apart. Talking to him, I ended up seeing the dreads as a crowning glory on the head of person who is not only a great cook but also an intellegent and focused gentleman.

Driving home, I remembered bible characters like John the Baptist and Samson who we admire and who were supposed to be close to God. Did those alive at that time cross the roads at their approach because they looked different? "Yikes, here comes those troublesome Nazerenes!" Could dreads have been more acceptable if it originated from the Western world? Why did I allow myself to see them as trouble just because some ignorant people said so? How many of us lose out on life due to prejudice? Questions! questions!! questions!!!

Arriving home, I decided to make use of my God-given intelligence and read up on Rastafarians and dreadlocks. It makes a fascinating read and I recommend you to delve into it yourself.

Will this make me grow such locks in the future? No way. I don't even think that my scanty, flyaway hair can be coaxed into it. But I will have more respect for those who do. More importantly, I will try harder not to be guided by other peoples opinion but rather work hard at finding out for myself. That's is part of the reason why God gave me my brains. I do Him injustice everytime I fail to use it.