DIGNITY AND POVERTY
Michael Ewetuga
When I see the poor, the less privilege in the society my heart goes out to them
because I know how it feels not having the financial clot to take care of one’s
daily need and the shame and disrespect that comes with being poor. Without
money one’s life feels so unnecessary and some of course rubs salt on injury
and make a poor person feel inhuman.
I was born on Lagos Island, at Lagos Maternity Hospital and grew up in my dad’
s house on Lewis Street. The house, like most houses on the Island did not
have any sort of yard. When you walk in through the door, the fence and the
house’s wall were so close together I don’t think it would take three people
standing together.
The house was a three story building British, four American and it had three
apartments, self contained like it is now called in Nigeria. The house was also
very close to the road. The above might be the reason why my dad never bought
us bicycles.
On the island you don’t necessarily need to own a bicycle there were people
whose main vocation was renting bicycles. You could go to Simpson Street,
which was very close to my house and rent yourself a bicycle. What you pay
depends on how long you kept the bicycle. You will be informed of the rate and
then you decide how long you want to keep it. There were two men, side by side
who rented out bicycle on that street, if my memory serves me right.
There was another elderly man on Beecroft Street who rented out bicycles to
little kids like myself and there was yet another man on Oshodi Street who had a
lot of bicycles to rent out. So, when Obey sang about kids who were playing
together and one with a bicycle would not allow the others to ride, he wasn’t
singing about my hood.
I can’t remember being hungry for lack of food, of course I was hungry a couple
of times because my mom was too busy selling that she didn’t prepare our food
on time. At times like that I remember that she would buy bread and we could
eat that by spreading butter on it or eat it with some other stuff. Since she sells
Ice Cream we also had the privilege of putting some on the bread. If you’ve
never tried that do, it’s kind of tasty. I did at Golden Coral some few weeks back
in remembrance of what it used to taste like.
I remember that we went to Kingsway and Leventis some Christmas and of
course we got some gifts from Santa. I went to a government school but then
everyone I knew went to one. The general belief was that government schools
were better than private schools, government paid teachers then although not
as much as they deserve. I don’t think anyone can pay teachers what they are
worth. We did not see attending government schools as a great defect nor did
we see attending private schools as a big deal. There were these people that
my dad took us to see at Ikoyi and that was my first encounter with kids that I
suspected were living a better life than we were.
I never saw myself as being a “butter” actually I think I was “pako” as far as
“pako” goes. We had two houses and a car but that did not qualify you as a
“butter” at least I didn’t think it did. The “butters” were those kids whose parents
were civil servants and they spoke English. Both my parents were self
employed, my dad being a barber and my mom a petty trader and they didn’t
speak English, none that I could remember anyway.
My mom of course had passion for education and she was so passionate about
it she didn’t give me much choice being the last child and the only one who did
not have my dad’s protection since he died when I was in Class 3. She claimed
that she did not get any education because her parents did not believe a female
child should be sent to school, but then, that is what they all say.
My dad, I couldn’t really place him. I saw him read or pretending to be reading
the Newspaper, maybe he was because he never had them upside down like I’
ve seen in a couple of comedy clips, but then maybe he was smart by checking
the pictures first. He watched a couple of English language movies. He either
understood them or he pretended to, we had no way of judging him because we
didn’t speak English, so in the country of the blind…
I think I remembered him saying that he went as far as standard 3 or is it 6,
which they were fond of comparing to the then high school certificate. That claim
was not disputed since we did not go through standard anything system. I know
he checked my report cards but I never had any complaint from him unlike
others, so I didn’t know how effectively he digested the information in the report
cards.
However, I know he wrote Yoruba, in cursive, which was not easy to read
because I attempted to read some after his death. If you look at it from that angle
maybe he was educated, well, more than me because my Yoruba is so, so
terrible despite the fact that I took it up to class 5, it was the other subject that I
passed during my disastrous failure out of school, bible study being the first one.
Growing up, I met kids that I believe I was more fortunate than and those who
were more fortunate than me.
After my dad’s death, I know hunger, not hunger because your meal was late in
coming but hunger because none was coming at all. My mom’s saying:
“Bolounje rimi to roju emi na afi aije te” (if someone with food sees me and
frown, I will disgrace him by not eating) one of her strong principle, a principle I
still follow till today no matter how hungry I am, taught me how to handle hunger
with some level of dignity.
I was one of the lucky few that got free education before Nigeria leaders decided
that education was too good for our country and messed everything up. I don’t
know how financially solid my dad was at that time but I do wonder sometimes if
he would have been able to pay huge sums of money since he had about six of
us going to school at different levels at the same time. My brother was a border
when he was in high school and so was my half sister. Perhaps he would have
been able to pay, that however is now academic.
I have had to hold hunger for hours and I have had to put on faded and ill fitting
clothes. I ate the same food for almost four year when I was in the university and
I’ve had people made fun of my shoes and I’ve had to stay at home while my
friends go party because I did not have appropriate clothes to wear to the party.
I have been insulted and had to walk to and from church because some people
believed we were not good enough to ride in a car, me and some others that is,
and I had eaten foods that dogs would vomit if forced to eat. I had slept beside
the infamous gutters that we know run through some houses in Lagos. Name it,
I have seen it all.
I have wined and dined with people that are regarded as movers and shakers of
society in their own rights. I have tasted food that would make a poor man’s
stomach grumble, I have put on clothes and shoes that are moderate in terms
of price because it is my principle not to buy anything expensive unless it
posses some kind of extraordinary quality. Why buy wristwatch for a thousand
dollars for example if all it will do is tell you the time. Some of my friends said I’m
not buying them because I don’t have the money yet, I disagree because I don’t
see myself being extravagant ever, if Wal-Mart doesn’t have it I probably don’t
need it.
My mother taught me pride and told me that despite poverty a human being
should still carry himself with pride, I believe that even today. I recognize the fact
however that there’s a limit to endurance and some poverty will take away your
pride and make shame a stranger, leftovers won’t seem so degrading.
I read sometime ago in an American magazine that the poor give alms more
than the rich. A reporter went to a predominantly affluent neighborhood and was
given virtually nothing by the rich, the same reporter made a lot of money in the
poor neighborhood. This attitude of the rich could be argued to lend credence to
the assertion of Jesus that it will be easier for camel to go through the eye of a
needle than for a rich man to go to heaven.
The rich seem not to care about heaven or God, the poor needs religion to keep
on moving, something to give them hope that there’s a better tomorrow. Jesus
said blessed are the meek for they shall see God, he also said they shall inherit
heaven. Some version of the bible substitute meek for poor, don’t quote me on
that.
The rich don’t seem to challenge the claim of the poor to heaven, actually they
can have as many properties as they want up there, they are satisfied having
their own treasures here on earth. If the poor would inherit heaven then why
would anyone want to be rich and why would the pastors be preaching
prosperity?
I have been doing club watch for my website since it came online. South Dallas,
I was told is a very dangerous place to go to so I sort of restricted myself to the
sides of town I was told were safe.
I decided to go to the so called dangerous side of town; the Lagos Island
mentality that I carry in my brain all the time would not allow me to believe that
some areas are no go areas for me. I dressed in a manner that I believe would
not set me apart from where I was going. I set out for south side, Malcolm X Blvd
for a club that I had seen online. It had just one review and it wasn’t exactly
complimentary.
The first club I saw seemed to have a lot of female patrons. Actually when I was
parking the car I did not notice a single male going in. I moved closer to the
security guard and asked him if it was the club I was looking for; he told me it
was a gay’s club. I later found the one I was looking for, KC’S BAR & GRILL,
“where good friends meet to eat and drink”
The other clubs that I have been to affords you the opportunity of listening to
good music, dance and perhaps meet members of the opposite sex. KC’S Bar
and Grill gives you all that and the opportunity of helping out the kids in the
community. It is the first club that I went to and money were donated to sponsor
some kids for summer camping. The proprietor of the club said the following
day folks will be contributing money so some kids can get scholarship to go to
school.
If you want to have fun and help the poor at the same time that is the club to go
to, if you think that you are too good for the poor and you would rather associate
yourself with the middle class and upper class or whatever class catches your
fancy then of course this is not the club for you. If you believe in giving clothes to
those who don’t have and giving water to the thirsty like the bible enjoined then
go jam with the good and friendly folks at this club and while there make sure
you shake what your mama gave you and give to those who need.
Michael Ewetuga
When I see the poor, the less privilege in the society my heart goes out to them
because I know how it feels not having the financial clot to take care of one’s
daily need and the shame and disrespect that comes with being poor. Without
money one’s life feels so unnecessary and some of course rubs salt on injury
and make a poor person feel inhuman.
I was born on Lagos Island, at Lagos Maternity Hospital and grew up in my dad’
s house on Lewis Street. The house, like most houses on the Island did not
have any sort of yard. When you walk in through the door, the fence and the
house’s wall were so close together I don’t think it would take three people
standing together.
The house was a three story building British, four American and it had three
apartments, self contained like it is now called in Nigeria. The house was also
very close to the road. The above might be the reason why my dad never bought
us bicycles.
On the island you don’t necessarily need to own a bicycle there were people
whose main vocation was renting bicycles. You could go to Simpson Street,
which was very close to my house and rent yourself a bicycle. What you pay
depends on how long you kept the bicycle. You will be informed of the rate and
then you decide how long you want to keep it. There were two men, side by side
who rented out bicycle on that street, if my memory serves me right.
There was another elderly man on Beecroft Street who rented out bicycles to
little kids like myself and there was yet another man on Oshodi Street who had a
lot of bicycles to rent out. So, when Obey sang about kids who were playing
together and one with a bicycle would not allow the others to ride, he wasn’t
singing about my hood.
I can’t remember being hungry for lack of food, of course I was hungry a couple
of times because my mom was too busy selling that she didn’t prepare our food
on time. At times like that I remember that she would buy bread and we could
eat that by spreading butter on it or eat it with some other stuff. Since she sells
Ice Cream we also had the privilege of putting some on the bread. If you’ve
never tried that do, it’s kind of tasty. I did at Golden Coral some few weeks back
in remembrance of what it used to taste like.
I remember that we went to Kingsway and Leventis some Christmas and of
course we got some gifts from Santa. I went to a government school but then
everyone I knew went to one. The general belief was that government schools
were better than private schools, government paid teachers then although not
as much as they deserve. I don’t think anyone can pay teachers what they are
worth. We did not see attending government schools as a great defect nor did
we see attending private schools as a big deal. There were these people that
my dad took us to see at Ikoyi and that was my first encounter with kids that I
suspected were living a better life than we were.
I never saw myself as being a “butter” actually I think I was “pako” as far as
“pako” goes. We had two houses and a car but that did not qualify you as a
“butter” at least I didn’t think it did. The “butters” were those kids whose parents
were civil servants and they spoke English. Both my parents were self
employed, my dad being a barber and my mom a petty trader and they didn’t
speak English, none that I could remember anyway.
My mom of course had passion for education and she was so passionate about
it she didn’t give me much choice being the last child and the only one who did
not have my dad’s protection since he died when I was in Class 3. She claimed
that she did not get any education because her parents did not believe a female
child should be sent to school, but then, that is what they all say.
My dad, I couldn’t really place him. I saw him read or pretending to be reading
the Newspaper, maybe he was because he never had them upside down like I’
ve seen in a couple of comedy clips, but then maybe he was smart by checking
the pictures first. He watched a couple of English language movies. He either
understood them or he pretended to, we had no way of judging him because we
didn’t speak English, so in the country of the blind…
I think I remembered him saying that he went as far as standard 3 or is it 6,
which they were fond of comparing to the then high school certificate. That claim
was not disputed since we did not go through standard anything system. I know
he checked my report cards but I never had any complaint from him unlike
others, so I didn’t know how effectively he digested the information in the report
cards.
However, I know he wrote Yoruba, in cursive, which was not easy to read
because I attempted to read some after his death. If you look at it from that angle
maybe he was educated, well, more than me because my Yoruba is so, so
terrible despite the fact that I took it up to class 5, it was the other subject that I
passed during my disastrous failure out of school, bible study being the first one.
Growing up, I met kids that I believe I was more fortunate than and those who
were more fortunate than me.
After my dad’s death, I know hunger, not hunger because your meal was late in
coming but hunger because none was coming at all. My mom’s saying:
“Bolounje rimi to roju emi na afi aije te” (if someone with food sees me and
frown, I will disgrace him by not eating) one of her strong principle, a principle I
still follow till today no matter how hungry I am, taught me how to handle hunger
with some level of dignity.
I was one of the lucky few that got free education before Nigeria leaders decided
that education was too good for our country and messed everything up. I don’t
know how financially solid my dad was at that time but I do wonder sometimes if
he would have been able to pay huge sums of money since he had about six of
us going to school at different levels at the same time. My brother was a border
when he was in high school and so was my half sister. Perhaps he would have
been able to pay, that however is now academic.
I have had to hold hunger for hours and I have had to put on faded and ill fitting
clothes. I ate the same food for almost four year when I was in the university and
I’ve had people made fun of my shoes and I’ve had to stay at home while my
friends go party because I did not have appropriate clothes to wear to the party.
I have been insulted and had to walk to and from church because some people
believed we were not good enough to ride in a car, me and some others that is,
and I had eaten foods that dogs would vomit if forced to eat. I had slept beside
the infamous gutters that we know run through some houses in Lagos. Name it,
I have seen it all.
I have wined and dined with people that are regarded as movers and shakers of
society in their own rights. I have tasted food that would make a poor man’s
stomach grumble, I have put on clothes and shoes that are moderate in terms
of price because it is my principle not to buy anything expensive unless it
posses some kind of extraordinary quality. Why buy wristwatch for a thousand
dollars for example if all it will do is tell you the time. Some of my friends said I’m
not buying them because I don’t have the money yet, I disagree because I don’t
see myself being extravagant ever, if Wal-Mart doesn’t have it I probably don’t
need it.
My mother taught me pride and told me that despite poverty a human being
should still carry himself with pride, I believe that even today. I recognize the fact
however that there’s a limit to endurance and some poverty will take away your
pride and make shame a stranger, leftovers won’t seem so degrading.
I read sometime ago in an American magazine that the poor give alms more
than the rich. A reporter went to a predominantly affluent neighborhood and was
given virtually nothing by the rich, the same reporter made a lot of money in the
poor neighborhood. This attitude of the rich could be argued to lend credence to
the assertion of Jesus that it will be easier for camel to go through the eye of a
needle than for a rich man to go to heaven.
The rich seem not to care about heaven or God, the poor needs religion to keep
on moving, something to give them hope that there’s a better tomorrow. Jesus
said blessed are the meek for they shall see God, he also said they shall inherit
heaven. Some version of the bible substitute meek for poor, don’t quote me on
that.
The rich don’t seem to challenge the claim of the poor to heaven, actually they
can have as many properties as they want up there, they are satisfied having
their own treasures here on earth. If the poor would inherit heaven then why
would anyone want to be rich and why would the pastors be preaching
prosperity?
I have been doing club watch for my website since it came online. South Dallas,
I was told is a very dangerous place to go to so I sort of restricted myself to the
sides of town I was told were safe.
I decided to go to the so called dangerous side of town; the Lagos Island
mentality that I carry in my brain all the time would not allow me to believe that
some areas are no go areas for me. I dressed in a manner that I believe would
not set me apart from where I was going. I set out for south side, Malcolm X Blvd
for a club that I had seen online. It had just one review and it wasn’t exactly
complimentary.
The first club I saw seemed to have a lot of female patrons. Actually when I was
parking the car I did not notice a single male going in. I moved closer to the
security guard and asked him if it was the club I was looking for; he told me it
was a gay’s club. I later found the one I was looking for, KC’S BAR & GRILL,
“where good friends meet to eat and drink”
The other clubs that I have been to affords you the opportunity of listening to
good music, dance and perhaps meet members of the opposite sex. KC’S Bar
and Grill gives you all that and the opportunity of helping out the kids in the
community. It is the first club that I went to and money were donated to sponsor
some kids for summer camping. The proprietor of the club said the following
day folks will be contributing money so some kids can get scholarship to go to
school.
If you want to have fun and help the poor at the same time that is the club to go
to, if you think that you are too good for the poor and you would rather associate
yourself with the middle class and upper class or whatever class catches your
fancy then of course this is not the club for you. If you believe in giving clothes to
those who don’t have and giving water to the thirsty like the bible enjoined then
go jam with the good and friendly folks at this club and while there make sure
you shake what your mama gave you and give to those who need.
Minorities Interests
Knowledge, Culture, Social
Meet And Share
Knowledge, Culture, Social
Meet And Share
