Amidst the deliverables of work and everyday living, my biggest concern over the last two weeks had been the impending resumption. It’s not that my children are resuming school, neither am I a teacher or anything of the sort. I am just a Lagos dweller shivering in anticipation of the post-resumption traffic that hits Lagos like a wave. The frenzy is so thick it can be touched. Parents and school busses competing to get sleep-ridden children to school before the day even breaks. Horns blaring, words flying, everyone rushing, no one succumbing. And you can hardly blame them, sleep deprived people who left their houses before the cock could crow only to get caught in the same traffic they were trying to beat, exasperating. Totally exasperating.
Hence, for me, the holiday felt like a good transition into the hustle and bustle of traffic season. Two days of quality sleep and a Wednesday to start the week, no better way to ease into stress.
What did you do with the holidays? I slept and cooked and slept some more, aided by the rains. There were a few places I needed to be, between the rains and other occurrences, I hardly made it anywhere. Stepped out briefly on Monday night to see the world partying and jiving. The streets were filled, cars everywhere, music jamming, tunes fighting to be heard. The irony of it, the most dreaded day had become the most enjoyed day. In the middle of all that, some mischievous content marketing expert heavily paid perhaps by Trump’s PR agency (does he even have one?) had succeeded in circulating a video of Hillary collapsing. That changed the discourse.
To go with the loud mouthed guy who seems like disaster waiting to happen or the well cultured experienced political leader who most-likely has more secrets than she’s letting on? I am neither #TeamTrump nor #TeamHilary. For God’s sake I am Nigerian and there are more than enough factions in the farces we call political parties here, if I wanted to make a political affiliation.
But it got me thinking, about the choices we often have to make in life. Both options sometimes bad, or hard, leaving you to choose between the devil and deep blue sea. Like choosing between the stingy guy full of potential and the generous one who has only been lucky to have gotten so far in life. To pick the God-fearing kitchen-savvy lady who just never looks appropriate no matter what you buy her or the Toyin-tomato who looks so amazing stepping out of bed, fits you like a glove but excels at talking you down and messing up the simplest of meals. Should you trust your children to the scrawny looking house-girl or leave your job and trust your survival to your husband’s salary and your waist-trainer delivery business in these days of ‘aunty, e don cost’?
Choices. We make them everyday- difficult, simple, inconsequential, life-defining. We make them in milliseconds, sometimes unable to think them through, other times wearied out from over thinking them. I am tempted to say ‘it’s about values’ but I have seen situation test values to the point where they seem irrelevant. Ask Peter if he did not value his Lord when he swore that he knew Him not. Ask Samson what happened to his values when he reeled out his mumu button on Delilah’s laps. Pressure can cook anything soft, proof is all around us.
I will not pretend to know the answer to this dilemma or submit a foolproof directive that will work at such junctures but I imagine that it helps to somehow find a way to think about the future-far and near- in the midst of all that pressure. Cast your mind to the tomorrows that will hit you without demanding permission. What will matter then, the untold health issues or the blatant lack of leadership skills? When your children need a mother, will it matter if your wife is a ‘slay-er’ or a ‘pray-er’. In health crisis and other downturns, would you still care if your husband is a ‘fine boy’ or if his mind and head work well?
In the end, only the end matters. Or so I think.
Can you believe it, Friday is just around the corner!
Photo Credit: Dreamstime