The One Who Owes The World

I rushed back into the school premises at a fast pace.
The blinding sun reminded me of my resolve to get a new pair of Sun shades. It was past 10am and my class must’ve begun, having been scheduled for 10am. I rushed towards the bus route going to faculty of law, at the car park.
I saw you, tall and fairly dark. Your eye glasses well perched on your nose. You had you shirt tucked into your trousers with a brown belt holding it in place. The Brown belt still looked good; not worn tired. I looked up at your face again. “Science, social sciences, law” you said expectantly.
Well, then.
Sister, are you going?” You adressed me. I nodded and said “law“, whilst looking at the motorbike lane. About four people were waiting in line for bikes. I contemplated going for a bike instead because I was in a hurry. I took a closer look at the bus.

Ah” I stared you down. “You just want to start loading? No o. No
No, enter. I would be leaving now, enter. Enter”
Obviously not, I thought. I’d be the first to sit in this bus. I turned to look at the bike lane again.
Look,” you said, “your mates are coming. Enter ” I looked back to see a few people who did not even glance once at you as they brushed past, heading for the bike lane. My resolve withered. I needed to be in class.
Two things kept me rooted beside your white bus.
First, I’m trying hard to stop riding on bikes for safety purposes. I began to ride on them only when I became a student in UI and I was sometimes left with no choice.
Secondly, your dressing. In that sun, you looked like a teacher. Tall enough to have that appearance, shirt tucked in, black shoes on, eye glasses with rope!
This shirt tucked in trouser is a serious topic, so let’s branch in.
I’ve been in UI for some years. I’ve even come to recognize a few cab drivers facially. A number of them come out and sit either at their secretariat by the park or under the tree near the drop loading point. The drop loading point is by the route loading to my hostel. Just yesterday, there was yet another argument between these men. They’re loud but I love that they always enjoy themselves to the fullest. The unspoken dress code convention is native attire or a faded shirt worn loosely on some slightly dirty trouser.
That is why, sir, I looked you over. My dad would’ve liked you.
The sun seemed to plead your cause too, as you stood there; A perfect example of a fervent business man. Your fervent plea to people to enter the bus and your argument that you will leave soon, allowed me to sit. I’d been in buses that left with some empty seats before. I sat in the front seat and watched you. Your eyes were focused. You beckoned at each person passing by, “science, social science, law“brother are you going? Sister enter, enter here” you paced. You moved from the right side of the bus to the left. I had two companions in the bus by then.
We waited because your perseverance blackmailed us.
I could’ve taken a cab drop, but I felt I’ll be unjust to you. How else could you make your morning rates if all of us chose to leave, unable to wait. 

We were conscious of the time and of our classes. For you, man must work.
You kept apologizing to us. I offered to pay two extra people’s bus fair, if you’d allow us leave.
You paced, you called. I waited.
I was sure my lecturer would let me in and that I didn’t have much to loose in this particular class.
At some point, I rolled my eyes, I should’ve just left since. What sort of pity ties you down when your ambition is on the line(maybe not that dramatic).
I then forgot my slight irritation well enough to start praying for you. For me too. Lord pls let this bus fill up quickly. Lord, help me o, I shouldn’t regard any class this way.
Where are the people? I craned my neck, I looked back, believing with you that passengers would come.
By the time we took off, with a full bus, I settled in to my amusement.

Sir, your dressing paved a way for you.

.

.

.

Two weeks later, I was watching a video on YouTube and I enjoyed it a bit. My hand hovered over the like button in a dilema for way too long. I wanted to click the like button only because I realized the video had been seen very many times while liked few times. 
I thought ‘let me support this video‘. Then I chided myself. Which kind of support is that? The videos I like keep entering a new folder. I don’t have to like this video. It’s made its impact. It will continue to make its impact if it doesn’t get deleted.

There is nothing wrong with liking a good youtube video but liking out of pity? No. 
I don’t have to live my life like I owe everyone and neither do you.

I know this is a pretty surprising post but it does matter. Stop haranguing yourself over the things that don’t really count.

You love the impeccable conductor? Pray for him in your mind, leave and enter your drop to class. The video doesn’t have many likes but you dont love it enough either? Be grateful you’ve seen it and click on another. This ‘I must like every video out of pity’ thing is uncalled for.

When it comes to seemingly little social matters like these, I love to share because I respect peace of mind. If I am at peace with myself(my right choices) and the same applies to you too, well it’s a peaceful world, innit? 
In 2018, don’t harangue yourself into unnecessary things you can’t help at the expense of your class or something important.
🍻To peace of mind, priorities and knowledge in 2018.


Care to share your thoughts? Diverging view?
Don’t forget to subscribe by e-mail to the blog to receive notice of updates. Also, share it with others using the share buttons below!
HAPPY NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE.

8 Comments

  1. I enjoyed this one buba…! And yes I know that man. And yes I like that man. His dressing, his proper spoken English… It makes me supportive of his hustle.

    Meanwhile, I know how it feels to stick with someone or something out of pity. Its a loyalty thing. However, truth is we need to put our own convenience and priorities sometimes over this pity-oriented loyalty

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s