Maybe when the seven Cardinal sins was written, ‘selfishness’ had not yet become a cancerous problem that is gradually eating it’s way into the backbone of societal values.
Maybe back then, the sense of Community, empathy and being your brother’s keeper was far more in abundance and the syndrome of eating your cake, other people’s cake and having it, had far more reaching repercussions than today, when for very little selfish reasons, a young man would go on a shooting spree.
Even the seven that were written eons ago are now looked upon as old-fashioned, in a syndrome of our present generation that suffers from acute self gratification of the ‘Me, Myself and I alone and the entire World can go to Hell in a hand basket.’
Who knows? If they could possibly re-write it, they should add Selfishness with a promise of Extra dose of Hell-Fire, Brimstone and Iodine for cleaning the burnt sores, that might result in having less selfish humans on Earth.
Remember the seven cardinal sins? You’re given the serious task of adding a new one to the list — another trait or behavior you find particularly unacceptable, for whatever reason. What’s sin #8 for you? Why?
People watching is a social science hobby that I spend quite a bit of my time engaging in. Observing people in recent times, some of the little things I see shows that there some fine redeeming human values which seems to be at loss these days. I am quite sure a good number of you would have observed these things as well.
Two days ago, I watched an elderly lady who was counting her steps struggle with the few things that she had and a couple of the items fell from her hands.
She paused briefly, bending gingerly to try and gather them and from my observation, she probably has Arthritis.
My natural instinct was to run up and help her, unfortunately my distance was a little far off to offer immediate assistance.
Meanwhile, two young men, probably in their mid-to-late twenties stood two steps away from this lady, puffing away on their cigarettes and not one of them bothered to render a helping hand to a woman who looked old enough to be their mother.
For all you know, they were probably busy videoing her difficulty for their YouTube Channel, which seems to be the new thing these days.
People would rather spend time shooting a video of a dying man in an accident instead of figuring out how to help.
I honestly had to curb my desire to make my way over and give them a talk or two about chivalry, they might not take it well.
However, I gave them a thorough scolding in my head 😉 and reminded myself that I have to keep teaching my boys how to be gentlemen.
By extending a hand of fellowship or help no matter how little to those around us who need it, we can never go wrong. We are actually not just helping others, but staying in touch with our humanity.
These are some little nuggets of quotes that you might wish to spend a couple of seconds on.
‘Instruction in youth, is like engraving in stone.’ African Proverb
‘The old woman looks after the child to grow its teeth and the young one in turn looks after the old woman when she loses her teeth.’ African Proverb
‘We rise by lifting others.’ Robert Ingersoll
Several dear bloggers have invited me for quote challenges and each day, the invitation increases by a notch.
I don’t like to let these things trail for so long, but I also don’t like to just toss quotes out there with nothing to say about them.
I try to look at the things that I observe around me and let them serve as lessons or inspirations for my thoughts.
I would like to thank Sepultura and That Little Voice for their generous invitation extended to me, to participate in the quotes challenge and would like to invite the following bloggers below to take up the quote baton and run with it.
Maybe I am wrong to rant, but allow me to stew a bit in some of my righteous indignation juices 😉
I came across a post with regards to blogging etiquette and best practices and I would like to holler a bit.
A blogger friend had to start extra blogs based on another bloggers advise to break down her current blog into different blogs, because they deemed it that her articles on devotion do not fit in with articles concerning her mental health and I am like what?
In essence, the advise is that for a mental health blog, all that is expected of the blog are issues about the person’s mental health and depression. How depressing is that? Is that all that her life is about?
Who decides these things and makes these rules? I feel that humans who tend to make this suggestion have issues with other peoples happiness and therefore decides that a person who has mental ill health has no business praying
I am still struggling to grasp and understand so maybe someone will educate my poor mind a bit more.
The‘so-called blog experts’ say that your blog must be themed to be deemed worthwhile and to get like-minded followers. I don’t need only like-mindedness. I love variety and its that simple.
It’s all a matter of choice, or isn’t it? My blog, my rules 😉
To me, it sounds a bit as if she is being asked to break herself into compartments *the blog represents* her to me.
Some of us write not necessarily to score points and what not, but because we find healing in our hearts by doing so. We write because we hope that our words will encourage someone else out there, even if it is just one person.
Why do we like to put ourselves in manacles and strictures? Actively managing one blog can be hectic not to talk of two or three.
Some of us just want to share our mundane conundrums without having some persnickety human, pointing fingers at where you should fit in x or y and souring the juice of fun in the blog.
Very soon, they would want us all to turn into little wound up robots, all saying the same thing and fitting into one tiny box.
Typically, I dislike stereotyping and labeling. I see it as being narrow-minded, when we assume just a little too much.
If someone who has mental health issues or any other issues for that matter, cannot have a category in his/her blog where he/she connects with his/her intrinsic self, as well as show her readers her self-help survival tips through her devotionals, just how dry do you want the blog to be?
What if a reader is not inclined to follow all the other blogs they have started because they like the original one-stop shop of a blog? Then I suppose they should just be contented in losing their readers.
Mental ill-health or any ill-health is not who the individual is, but a condition that he/she has.
The days float by a bit too fast! Before we can blink, January will pass.
The holiday excitement and adrenaline rush of weeks is down to zilch and now my body is experiencing fatigue and withdrawal syndrome.
All I want to do is to sleep for days to re-calibrate but alas, no such leisure for this mom.
The children resume school tomorrow and my brain is not yet ready for the frenetic bout. Yes, the week starts on Sunday’s in UAE, just in case you wonder.
Come on! The school break is over already! Boo, Hoo, Hoo. I am wailing loud 😦
Ourlives are dotted with those waiting to exhale moments when we tell ourselves that it’s going to be alright irrespective of whatever the stress going on is.
Thisisone of the small it’s gonna be alright moments for me.
Forthefirst time ever I am doing a complete post on my phone. I usually set specific time to work on my laptop each day and then use my notepad to jot down my thoughts as the day goes by.
However, my laptop turned into a bad elf and crashed on me yesterday, causing me to have a few minutes of arrested development when I called her some naughty names.
After slapping her around a wee bit, I turned her off, wished her away to the Grinch that stole Christmas, poured my self a nice glass of Irish cream on the rocks and curled up with a juicy magazine.
Before I could say Trump, I was off asnooze. I am writing this post, possibly riddled with errors but who cares? Not me! Not at this moment!
Iam just taking off to look for a replacement laptop; boo hoo hoo 😢 forced to spend a bit of my egg nest, but I guess that’s what egg nest’s are made for.
Isimply said to the bad elfin computer, you ain’t cramping my style nor getting my goat, lady. I am going to exhale and get my groove back on.
Ieven turned it into a positive lesson and learnt how to tweak some stuff on my phone.
What’s a writer girl to do without her machine? I will fix the silly one and keep as a backup.
It’s a given that the most beautiful humans that I see once I wake up each morning are my family.
My dear Himself – if he is not out of town and our lovely blessings – The children. They are never far from me. Hmm, come to think of it, it seems a selfie holiday is loooong overdue; though I doubt if that vacation will be as much fun without them.
Without doubts, I love them very much and I refer to them as ”ndi nkem, nji eme onu” in my native language which means, ”my very own that I am proud of. My jewels of inestimable value.
However, they are not the ones that I want to talk briefly about right away.
The ones that I want to discuss lightly are those strangers that cross my path of life on this strip.
Most mornings, after my folks, the next batch of people I always run into are the friendly porters who I think are from Pakistan and Philippines and because these ones have been friendly, I have not yet cast them as villains in any of my short stories, just Mr. PT who I turned into a nice portly porter in a short series that I am writing.
They are followed by other folks from wherever, whom I meet sometimes in the lift, on the walkway, if I am taking a brisk morning stroll or at the children’s school and so on.
They consist of proud Emiratis and Saudi Arabians, the fair Russians, the Ugandans, the Ethiopians, lots of Indians, more Filipinos and Pakistanis and others that I am yet to discover where they are from.
Sometimes they reward you with a mere upturn of their lips in a forced smile (usually from the more western ones) and a lot of times with a glare of a look.
There are two particular fellows I love to cast as villains in my mind.
I meet them mostly at the neighbourhood gym where they hog the machines like cyborgs and get so annoying with their showing off exercising skill – my green jealous eye is wiggling here.
Hear me out, one of them sweats over the machines and does not bother to wipe it down after use. Urrgh!
The other one runs on the thread mill at an unbelievable speed and his heavy footing makes so much noise, that I can virtually see the tongue of the poor machine hanging out as it pants in exhaustion while holding on to dear life.
Thankfully, I tune them out with my headphones and just enjoy turning them into imps and ogres in my mind.
I am still searching for the character to cast as a shiny hero that will slay their monstrous behaviour and turn them into pumpkins.
Let us go down to a bit of Nigeria colloquial language aka pidgin or broken with Igbo, Hausa and Yoruba flavour. The translated synopsis is below to give you a rounded gist of the matter.
Abeg make una vex o. E don tey, way I bin won talk dis matter.
Mai dia pipu , how una dey o? Shebi bodi dey eensi clot wel, wel? Se kosi? Ranka dede! Una wellu don o. I dey greet.
Oya carry shia siddon make u listen small for my vex.
Biko, make ah ask dis kine kwershion wey dey give me palaver.
Dis tin way de shele for our life now no be small tin at all o. How una take see am? Eh?
Lai lai e no supoze be like dis na! All deze tins just dey put us for reverse, when we suppose dey waka go front.
Dis Boko Haram mata, dis ISIS matter don tire persin. Dem be like Ojuju Calabar wey no wan make person sleep close eye for night.
Maka Chukwu dem jus de do bad bad tins de go, an e no funnee ahgain o.
Abi wetin yu teeenk?
We jus dey siddon dey look abi? Na dis kine leg Nama go carry waka for Damaturu reach Owerri?
Mbanu! Odikwa very risky.
Mayk una come o,make we join head togeda begin dey fine the black sheep way dey fo outside before naight go meet us for hia o!
Na sofri sofri dem dey take catch monkey.
Beecause mai pipu dey talk say one day one day monkey go go market e no go return ahgain o.
U no say pikin way no wan make im mama sleepu him too no go sleep .
Na so e be o. Eh aburo mi. Sisi mi.
Abi na lie I lie? If na lie I talk make I naked baf for bafroom.
E don do sef! Oti to!
Diaris God o.
Akoba adaba Olurun ma ja ri
Ka Chineke mezie okwu a. Udo diri unu nile.
Shikena! I don talk my own finish. Today na Sunday abeg may I go chop Jollof rice 😊
Translation:
Please don’t be offended. It’s been a while that I wanted to say this.
My dear people, how are you all? I hope you are doing well?
Sit down let’s have a quick chat.
I crave your indulgence, let me ask this question that seems to be a bane in our lives these days.
What are your views about this Boko Haram and ISIS issues that are cloying the air?
It is rather a tiring situation and they have assumed the positions of masquerades that won’t let people close their eyes to sleep at night. What do you think can be done?
These happenings are sending us backwards while we are supposed to move forward.
Are we just going to sit down and look at events? Is it in this manner that the Cow will trek from Damaturu to Owerri? That is rather risky!
Let us join heads together and search fervently for the black sheep before night comes.
Softly, softly one can actually capture a monkey, because we say in my place that one day the monkey will go to the market and it will not return.
A child who will not let his mother sleep will not sleep too.
My brother and sister, that is how it is.
It’s enough now. Let us remember that there is God.
May we not fall into the pit/trap set by someone.
Peace be with you all and May God intervene for us.
That’s it! I have said my piece! Today is Sunday, please let me go and eat jollof rice. Good bye.
Blanket Race or Religious castigating remarks always feed off the wilful, ugly actions of the misguided among us in society.
These actions earn names and virulent comments from those who perfect the act of positing themselves as armchair judges, pointing fingers, pontificating and lumping people under labels.
In fairness to others, we should learn to stop herding and lumping people into categories to suit our lack of open-mindedness and to satisfy our cravings for ”I told you so’s” as is the case of an African proverb that says “when one finger picks palm oil, it spreads to the rest.”
It is a given and natural phenomenon that the influence of one’s upbringing and society will not only rub off on them, but will dictate and shape their views, behavioral tendencies and if this is the case, then it stands to reason that the individual is not necessarily to blame for how they turn out, but the society at large and their upbringing.
Who are society? We! We form society and not aliens from Mars.
What have we done as a society to improve these situations that we find ugly, which keeps perpetuating itself until they are fast replacing the normal with the abnormal?
Since we are too busy being politically correct, we are all to blame.
If we truly love and want to change our World as much as we claim, is this not then the time to stop playing Possum and to stop hiding our heads in the sand?
Is it not yet time for Muslim leaders to stand as one voice and castigate the bad eggs who perpetrate evil in the name of Islam?
Is it not yet time for the people to question the status-quo and raise eyebrows at those who do these so-called brainwashing?
Is it not yet time for Christians to open their hearts and express that love that we profess?
Is it not yet time for every Religious leader worth his salt to speak up and condemn these inhumane practices and other behavioural tendencies that hurts the society at large?
Or, have they lost their essence as the salt of the Earth?
Is it not time for the arm-chair pontificators to get off their butts and do something more useful other than to be judgmental?
Let us steadfastly attempt in seeking positive ways to do better things for the benefit of our society and not by the spate of ugly words spouting off peoples mouth all over the place.
Today, I will share these African proverbs with you, which should help us realize that our little works can have ripple effects since we are not in isolation and that:
”It takes a village to raise a child.’‘
”If your child is dancing clumsily, tell him, my child you are dancing clumsily. Don’t not tell him “darling, do as you please.”
”A child is what you put inside him.”
”One should shout when a child comes home with a stolen egg, otherwise the day he comes with a stolen ox, it will be too late.”
We are society. Let us stand for the truth.
Thank you Chape for providing the opportunity to enjoy ruminating over these proverbs. I would encourage you to visit his blog. You will find lots of useful fitness tips and neighbourliness.
My invitation extends to these 3 awesome bloggers:
There are loads of shopping malls over here in Dubai. Huge Ones, Medium Ones, Small Ones and with them come hordes of humans from all walks of life.
We went shopping for a no-frills plain white shirt for my daughter, which is required for a school programme (last week it was a red one, for flag day, I wonder what it will be next week) and mid-way trawling the shops she needed to use the ladies.
We duly went to the ladies and I felt it was also better to do a little tinkle just in case, luckily like every standard up-to-date mall, rest-room convenience is easily accessible and over here, they do a very good job at keeping it spick and span.
As usual, the ladies-room is filled with women; young and old, re-doing their scarves, patting and brushing their hair, dusting their noses, powdering their faces, pouting their lips and squinting their eyes as they apply the required make-up mask. It is really a bee-hive of femaleness.
My daughter came out and I observed that her skirt was somewhat askew, so I had tried to adjust it a bit and that required a little lifting to straighten the lining.
From the corner of my eye, the not so young lady stood in front of the mirror directly in front of our view (we were caught in her reflection) after all her primping, she started pouting her lips in all manners of contortions and NO! you don’t say, went clicking happily on her phone, taking pictures in the TOILET.
I counted to 10, telling myself to just go, but the little imp in me refused to let go of the bone.
I told her “my dear lady, I don’t think that taking photo shots in the restroom where other ladies are milling around is a proper thing to do!”
She stared at me in disdain. I don’t know if she understood English or not.
I proceeded to explain better in sign language gesticulating all over the place, asking her to check if her pictures had caught people in the rest-room and to delete it.
She simply went into a tirade of Arabic and left in a huff.
I also went into a tirade of Igbo (my native language) and left in her wake in a huff.
These selfie absorbed moments can get ridiculous at times.
How smart is a human who takes pictures in a public rest-room where you have so many other users? Why not wait until you get to your private bathroom and then you can say all the cheese and contort all the pouts required?
I don’t get it! I think rest-rooms should come with big signs of ”No Photography Allowed.”
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a cooking pot and twisted tales 