Recently, I had stimulating conversations with leaders working in the area of “the giving”, “the social responsibility”, and “creating the inclusive world”.
Those conversations left me perplexed with numerous narratives about purpose, privilege, and pain. I found it difficult to discern between real and projected.
I called the proven algorithm that had helped me in the past whenever I was at a crossroad. A deep thinker generously shared it with me; here I share it with you with my validation that it worked for 999 out of 1000 times.
The algorithm works like this: you key in a problem statement, its category and context; pause and ponder in anticipation. Voila! It presents the name of people, place or relationship I shall revisit. Sometimes silence. Don’t worry. Silence works too!
Nothing is new under the Sun.
In my doubt, the algorithm magically presented the name of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
I ached to speak to Chimamanda Adichie, but how?
The only common ground I have with her is the birth year. We both have the same birth year, and so those additional 10 million people. However, I am polishing myself to shine and stand out for Chimamanda to say yes to my invitation to face-to-face conversation. But for now, a face-to-book conversation came first.
I have had Chimamanda’s novel Purple Hibiscus for so long. But my action-biased mind used to win over savouring fiction. Anyway, that is a story for other times. I trusted the algorithm magic and finally read it.
Back story: How do I know Chimamanda?
My introduction to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie was from her 2009 TED Talk “The Danger of the Single Story.” I have followed her work since then.
The danger of a single story | Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie at TED — October 7, 2009
In her talk, Chimamanda speaks about growing up in a privileged upper-middle class in Lagos, Nigeria. Her family had a houseboy, Fide. All she had heard about him was how poor his family was. Until one Saturday, when she visited Fide’s village and found his family leading lives full of joy. She unfolded many single stories from her life, and in that process, I discovered mine.
My single story of giving
I was playing in the veranda of my open house, and a beggar came asking for food. “I haven’t eaten roti for the last three days,” he said. There was no one at home. It was 4:00 PM. Lunch was over. Dinner was not ready. I rushed, wore my Bata (a famous footwear brand) slippers and ran along with the beggar, asking the neighbour if they had some chapatis leftover from lunch.
I was laughed at. After all, food is not only roti and cooked vegetables. It could have been any eatables available at home. But a seven-year-old was proud to arrange what the needy asked for.
It became my single story of giving: Giving is Sewa, aka service, and receiving anything in return for Sewa or not going beyond is dishonouring your privilege and His bliss.
The danger of a single story
My pride in giving, without my notice, shifted to the other edge and became the shame of receiving. Receiving a compliment tasted like a favour. Getting something after arduous work felt like debt. Stretching beyond happened to be the only repose. I took actions in an isolated and unnatural context and then exaggerated the importance of the action. All in all, I unconsciously started getting in my way.
Wouldn’t it be amusing to contemplate objects of nature behaving that way? I can only imagine a cheerful flower bush feeling guilty when the butterfly didn’t find some nectar and accompany the bee until she finds another flower.
It is all about perspectives.
In hindsight, I can merit myself for unveiling my single story of “the Giving” through the hard way of the psychological toll.
But I wouldn’t deny the window that that author’s Ted talk crack opened, which was closed tight for long. The other window — “the Receiving” window — completed the spectacular view. I discovered that Sewa is the selfless mindset, not an action exercised literally.
Sewa is the selfless mindset, not an action exercised literally.
Getting back to the Purple Hibiscus:
My position of recommendation
If you are a fiction fanatic, you will find the writing immensely powerful, captivating and mature. The author confidently shares a child’s sensitive and touching story, who gets exposed too early to religious intolerance. Nothing showy. Nothing brash. The sheer plot, drama and excitement.
If you entangle in a fantasy world to curb down, as I do, be prepared to find some gems inside you. The author offers many reflection points through the blurred lines between old gods and the new, between childhood and adulthood, between love and hatred.
What emerged for me
Jaja knew what I ate for lunch every day. We had the menu on the kitchen table that Mama changed twice a month. But he always asked me, anyway. We did that often, asking each other questions whose answer we already know. Perhaps it was so that we would not ask the other questions, the ones whose answer we didn’t want to know.
He was in a better cell until last month, with books and a mattress all to himself, because our lawyer knew the right people to bribe. But the warden moved him here after he spat in a guard’s face for no reason at all … Although I don’t believe Jaja would do something like that unprovoked, I have no other version of the story because Jaja will not talk to me about it.
These conversations spoke to the dark corners of my heart. Places where unconscious biases hide and the power of choice might subscribe to the obligations, expectations and whatnot.
Purple Hibiscus read offered a practice ground for my action biased mind — and develop the capacity to identify the grey spaces between inflating values and insecure needs.
Identify the grey spaces between inflating values and insecure needs.
Summing-up
In my conversations lately, I coincided with many well-intended advocates, unconsciously, operating from grey zones, like “People who achieve success are admirable”, “Those who achieve success while enduring hardships are even more admirable”, “I hope it doesn’t interfere with other what people want for themselves” “what boys can do, girls can do better is to fuel girls’ self-esteem” and many more.
And I would say, sponsorship of positive stories is equally alarming, no less than the danger of a single story. These positive stories give mind monkey a reason to rationalize.
My invitation from the Purple Hibiscus is not to limit the questions to those whose answer we don’t know or don’t want to know. But also ask questions whose answers we know and have associated for long.
Ask questions whose answers we know and have associated for long.
Answers to these question may reveal a story. Story of unconscious bias. Story of well-intended stereotype. Story to crack the sealed windows and allow diverse perspectives to get in.
We all have cracks, and that is how we break without falling apart. ~ Timothy Joshua