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CAN YOU TRUST?

CAN YOU TRUST?

When you go to a restaurant, you expect to have a meal that has been prepared in a hygienic manner. You don’t ask the pilot to show you his license when you board a plane. You assume that he is certified to fly you safely. You don’t ask for papers to confirm that the plane has had regular services, and it is safe to fly. The taxi driver waits for you holding up a piece of paper with your name written on it. You follow him to the parking lot and expect that he has a valid driving license, and he is an authentic taxi driver.

Imagine attending your doctor’s surgery one day. “What can I do for you today?” the doctor asks. “Oh, before we start, can you show me your certificate?” you reply. Of course, that does not happen under normal circumstances. You don’t ask your doctor or dentist to show you his medical certificate before treating you. It’s all to do with trust.

Your child jumps on you. You hold her up, throw her up several times and even turn her upside down. She smiles with pleasure and urges you, “Again, dad.” Then she sits on your laps as you tell her stories. She doesn’t argue. After all you are her parent. She doesn’t have to read any book about trust. She probably even doesn’t know the true meaning of, and what it takes to trust. But she trusts you anyway. She trusts her parents to take a good care of her, to love and protect her.

Someone whom you believe not to like you invited you to a dinner. Would you accept the invitation or would you find excuses to turn him down? What about when you have just started a job? One of your new colleagues smiled at you when you entered the office. She even made you a cup of tea with biscuits. Within minutes, she told you everything about everybody. The other colleague gave only a brief smile. She talked a little but simply concentrated on what she was doing. Which of these two colleagues would you trust?

Trust is an important attribute in our life as human beings. As a matter of fact, it is fundamental to the human web. It is the strand that knits together the fabric of what we know and recognise as society. Good relationships are based on trust. Trust goes beyond relationships between two persons or among family members. It goes beyond racial, religious or ethnic bounds.

As a growing child, I saw the world as a beautiful place. I was surrounded by families and friends that showed nothing but love and care. Now grown up, I marvel at what people do to their fellow human beings. I could not understand how people who once lived together and did everything together suddenly became enemies, burning neighbours’ houses, slaughtering their children and causing many untold havocs. I see the trust I once had in my fellow human beings eroding on a daily basis. The world no more looks like the one I was born into. It gets worse everyday. Then I ask myself. “Can I really trust anyone? Can I trust people?”

One day, my friend visited me. “Did you know that Tom and Philippa are going through a divorce?” he asked. “Oh!” I replied. “He told me to keep it secret,” he continued, “but I believe that I must tell you since Tom is our friend.” “Oh!” I replied again. It is true that Tom is our mutual friend. As a matter of fact, I knew about Tom and Philippa’s struggle with their marriage. But Tom told me to keep it to myself, just like he told our friend, Franklin. He trusted us with his secret.

What does it really mean to trust? According to the Cambridge Dictionary, this means “to believe that someone is good and honest and will not harm you, or that something is safe and reliable.” The Oxford Dictionary defines it as “to believe in the reliability, truth, or ability of” the person. Merriam-Webster’s Learner’s Dictionary defines trust simply as “belief that someone or something is reliable, good, honest, effective, etc.” Trust thus encompasses an assured reliance on someone including his character, truth, strength and ability to keep one’s secret. It is that duty that is created by trust that a person keeps to be deemed trustworthy.
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Some people trust easily. But for some other people, trust can be an enigma. There are many reasons while people may find it hard to trust or not to trust at all. When you have been hurt or disappointed by people you have once trusted, you don’t want to trust again. This cannot be more true than in relationship situations, business transactions, political leaders, sports teams, etc. If you were a woman who had suffered an abusive relationship you would fear to trust another man with your love. The reality is that, as long as we live, we are going to be in situations when we will have to decide whether to trust or not to trust.

We can make better choices about who and when to trust by trying the following principles:

Give Yourself Time to Think. Avoid making important decisions on impulse. It is always best to step back and give yourself time to consider all the aspects of the decision you are about to make. Think of the benefits but also consider what is at stake. You may need to do your own investigations about the person and seek the opinion of a friend with trusted judgment.

Beware of the Smooth Operators. These are people with sweet tongue. They can talk you into doing anything. They are the typical hard sellers who will want you to trust that you have got a good bargain. They may even make it look like what you are about to buy is scarce, just to lure you. Similarly, someone who wants to form a relationship with you may appear to be the nicest person on earth.

Beware of Fast Movers. If you have just met someone and, straightaway, he wants to be your best friend or lover, you need to be careful. Take your time to know the person well before committing yourself. Better to have a few friends that you can trust than lots of untrustworthy ones.

Probe into the person. What is this person really about? Does he want you for his own selfish benefit? Some people want to form a relationship with you for what they want to gain. They don’t care about what you gain or lose in forming that relationship. They are good at projecting false images of themselves. They may even flatter you to make you feel good. You need to ask yourself, Is this person really what he seems to be? Can we live together? Have we got common values? From talking to him, does he sound like someone who could keep a secret? What is his past like? Is he always criticising people? Is he contemptuous of other people? Has he got close friends or family? Does he like to help people? These are some of the questions that are worth asking yourself to enable you look beyond the superficial appearance of the person and discover his true nature to decide whether you can trust him.

Your Gut Feeling. You may feel an instant connection with somebody. You can’t ignore your emotions. But be cautious. Don’t make that the sole reason for your decision to trust. Your emotion can cloud your judgment. Take other factors into consideration as well.

In the world that we live, there is always going to be people who would hurt us. We can’t but form relationships. We just have to be more careful about who we trust.

CHRISTMAS REMINISCENCES

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To say that Christmas is special is an understatement. The religious aspect of Christmas is unquestionable. But there are many things that make Christmas a unique festival. In the weeks leading to Christmas it always looks as if the ground would cave in under the feet of enthusiastic shoppers.

When it comes to Christmas shopping, I am a last minute shopper. I guess that’s because I am a man. Men typically leave their Christmas shopping to Christmas Eve. There’s something exciting about shopping at the very last minute. Because of time constraints you don’t have time to think long. You just grab whatever you can find but you must grab it before another chap gets hold of it.

Christmas in Africa where I grew up is not the same as in Europe. When I was a child there were no computers, no computer games, no mobile phones, iPads, etc. It was more of friends and families affairs with a great emphasis on the religious meaning of Christmas. Food was in abundance. Oh, I love Christmas in Africa.

Christmas time provides an opportunity for people to sell their animals.

In my place, goat is almost always on the Christmas menu. People would try any means to bring their goats home.

When I was a child I used to wonder what was in the minds of the animals whenever I looked at them on the tether. I wondered if they sensed the risks that Christmas posed to them. They tried in their own way to escape their ordeal, including hiding in unusual places.

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But Christmas is a time to show love.

It is also a time for peace and reconciliation.

And a time of hope

Thank you for visiting my site. I hope you have had a good Christmas and I wish you a happy new year. Please continue to visit my site as 2016 will be full of mind blowing blogs.

WATCH YOUR TONGUE

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Watch Your Tongue

I don’t like making or receiving phone calls on public transport. I prefer texting, not so much because of confidentiality, but because sometimes that could be a nuisance to other people. I get irritated when people’s phones ring with some weird ring tones or when the person next to you speaks so loudly that your ear drums are in danger or in a language that you don’t understand. There’s one phone that I cannot ignore. That’s my brother’s. Femi will call you repeatedly until he hears: “Hello!” from the other end.

On this day, I was on the bus home after a busy shift. I heaved a sigh of relief that I found a nice seat where I could just settle quietly and hopefully have a nap. On a good day, it would take an hour to get home. The guy sitting next to me smiled, as I took my seat. He had a gentlemanly look. I smiled back, thinking, Not the type of person who would spend the whole time on the phone! Having made sure that I had set my phone to vibration, I settled down. I was about to dose off when my phone started to vibrate. At first, I ignored it as I always did when on the bus. My eyes blinked several times as the caller’s name appeared: Femi. “Oh no, not now,” I grumbled, as I put the phone back into my pocket. But I knew, of course, that I was joking. Femi would never leave a message on the smartphone. He would try and try until I picked it. So I wasn’t surprised when my phone vibrated again seconds later.

“Hello!” I answered, hoping that the signal would be poor and I could tell him that I would call back when I got home.

“Bawo!” Femi replied, breathing heavily. And that was it. My brother was unstoppable. Thirty years abroad have not robbed him of a good control of the Yoruba language. My sleep disappeared from my eyes as I kept nodding, laughing and replying with encouraging “O ti o!” “Beni!” and “Rara!” I was glad when Femi said, “O dabo,” signalling the end of our dialogue.

Although I did actually enjoy talking to my brother, I felt terrible that I had done something that I really disliked. I turned to the guy sitting next to me, and with guilt conspicuously written on my face, I said, “Sorry about this.”

“Ko si wahala,” he replied with the most amazing smile.
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I nearly collapsed. I had not expected a guy of a different colour to understand my language particularly on a bus in a foreign country. “Oh, my God!” I screamed, ignoring the attention of the other passengers. The guy surely heard and understood everything that I discussed with my brother. Imagine what would have happened if I had said something bad about him or discussed things that were somehow implicating.

“Lola,” I said as I stretched out for a handshake.

“Tom,” he replied, still smiling.

Son of an oil engineer, Tom Solomon grew up in Lagos. Talking to Tom in my native language gave me a feeling that I could not describe. It was like talking to my own brother. We subsequently exchanged our contact details and have since formed a strong friendship.

This reminds me of Dr Chucks’s encounter with Pam Boggy, his medical student under Dr Braver. He had not expected to find a girl who could speak pidgin English thousands of miles away. That moment of discovery sent powerful impulses through both of them and formed a good soil for love to blossom.

Both stories had positive outcomes, one resulting in a lasting friendship, and the other in romance. My encounter with Tom could potentially have resulted in embarrassment had I assumed that the guy sitting next to me had no chance of understanding my language. The power of language must not be underestimated. Next time you sit next to someone who apparently looks different, there’s a chance he/she may understand your language. Watch your tongue.

I Can’t Pronounce This

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I Can’t Pronounce This

I don’t like visiting doctors. Not that I don’t like the medical profession. Of course, my own doctor is excellent in every way. She is caring and trustworthy. But maybe it’s just because I am a man. Men don’t like to complain about their health and so tend to delay going to see their doctors. Women, on the other hand, generally seek help early.

As expected, the waiting room was packed full with women and elderly people. I quietly went in, avoiding any eye contact and settled in one of the chairs at the far end of the room, hoping that I wouldn’t have to stay long before they called me in for my health check.

As I sat down, one nurse came to the door with a piece of paper in her hand. She looked at the paper and murmured something. All the people in the room turned their faces to my side. I didn’t know what to make of it. I felt uncomfortable, and almost asked the receptionist if there was something that I was supposed to do that I hadn’t done. I brought out my phone and started playing one of my favourite games. I just needed something to take my attention.

The nurse appeared again through the door. After clearing her throat, she scratched her head and murmured something again. This time I thought I heard, “Mr O … I can’t pronounce this.” She went back in as the people in the waiting room turned their faces to my side. Then the old woman who sat next to me, asked, “Is that you?” Not knowing what she meant, I replied, “Sorry?”

“Oh, I thought the nurse was calling you.” The old woman said.

“I didn’t hear her call my name.”

“I think she is finding it difficult to call your name.

I didn’t want to be rude to this woman. But I couldn’t help asking her, “How did you know that she can’t pronounce my name?”

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“Oh, I see.” I said.

Just then, the nurse appeared at the door, and after looking at the piece of paper in her hand, walked towards me. I pretended to be busy playing my game and avoided her eye contact.

“Mr, em, I can’t pronounce your name. You’re next.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder.

I looked up. Of course, my name is not “Mr I can’t pronounce your name.” Trying not to be rude to the nurse or create a scene, I politely informed her, “The name is Olusegun Popoola. All the alphabets are English, my dear.”

“Oh!” She said, but she never tried to master the pronunciation of my name.

As I followed this nurse into her room for my health check, I wondered how Dr Chukwuemeka Azuibike would have felt when Dr Braver asked him what his name meant in English.

If you want to make someone welcomed, call his name and if you can say a word or two in their language, the better. Try this and your client will not feel alienated.

If you want to befriend a people, learn to speak their language, call them by their names, respect their beliefs and values, understand and respect their differences and they will in return bestow their trust on you.

THE DOG AND ITS MASTER

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The Dog And Its Master

Dr Braver pulled into his drive as the large gate flung open. He whistled sonorously as the gate slowly closed behind him. It was already dark.

“Darling I’m home,” he announced, as he slammed the door of his black Buick.

Jezzie turned her back on the window, ignoring her husband. Dr Braver tiptoed towards the window and tapped gently. Jezzie turned momentarily and simply nodded as she carried on with her telephone conversation.

Lionheart pushed itself through the ajar kitchen door and wagged its tail enthusiastically as Dr Braver stroked the well groomed back of the 6-stone boxer dog passionately. At that moment, the dog and its master seemed to be in their own world, completely detached from everyone. Dr Braver knelt down and gazed affectionately into the sparkling eyes of his companion and muttered sarcastically, “At least someone knows that I am someone.”

A few minutes later, the moment began to fade between the two outcasts. Dr Braver, now allowed his gaze to fall through the window. His wife, still on the phone, was gesticulating madly but Dr Braver couldn’t tell from these actions how far the conversation had progressed. The barrier between husband and wife resulted in an unnatural silence on both sides.

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Suddenly, Jezzie rolled her eyeballs through the slits between the thick layers of the variegated eye shadow. And with a swift flick of her hair, her head was turned away from the window again.

Dr Braver knew that trouble was waiting for him inside.

Nonchalantly, he strolled through the now fully open front door and closed it gently behind him. At that moment Jezzie said, as she hung up the phone, “l’ll talk to you later.”

Jezzie replaced the phone and braced herself up as she stood facing her husband. Her eyes were now almost tearing her eyelids apart with lancinating ferocity. Husband and wife were now watching each other, like tiger and lion, both capable of inflicting terrible wounds on each other and yet, neither would challenge the other.

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Men Are Wimps!

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Mrs. Pearson had finished her shower and had got into her pyjamas when Angela got back home.

“Have you heard from Mark?” Her mother was direct. Angela had been hoping that it would be a brief check on her mother and a quick good night kiss. Her heart quickened as her brain struggled to find the right answer. In the end, she decided to be truthful. That was how she had brought her up. To tell the truth without mincing words.

“I phoned him just before coming here.”

“And?”

“Didn’t talk much. Only told him that I’m having my operation in the morning.”

“And what did he think?”

“Don’t know.” Angela scratched her head and stared into the blank. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I’m sure he’s scared.” Her mother tried to make her understand.

“But he’s not acting like a man. Not a brave one anyway.” She brushed her hair backwards with her hand. “You see, Mama, when I got married to Mark I thought I got married to a real man. One with a heart big enough to harbour all my troubles and heavy shoulders to carry my burden. But sadly, all I’ve got now is a wimpish lamb.”

“Your husband loves you…”

“How can you say that after what he’s done?”

Her mother smiled and shook her head. “I know he loves you and I can assure you that he’s probably somewhere out there among his mates drinking his life out.”
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“If he loved me he wouldn’t do that. You don’t hurt the person that you love,” she retorted.

“Sometimes your treasured possession has a stain but you still treasure it anyway. That’s exactly what love is. It is unconditional.”

“That’s my point. If he loved me it should be unconditional. That’s the point I am making. He doesn’t love the children either.”

“Don’t say things like that. Of course he loves you all. Think of the times that you have shared together. If you count the number of breeze and storms in your relationship as a family, it would surprise you how much love you have for one another.”

“Mama, I can’t believe that you’re supporting Mark’s reckless behaviour.”

“I am not supporting the way he has acted. Of course not.” She put her arm over her daughter’s shoulder. “But darling you are not living in the real world. Everything cannot be perfect. And don’t expect people to reason or behave in your own way. Sometimes someone that we love can disappoint us. Call them stupid, insensitive, lazy, or whatever. You see, people are different, but love is the same.”

Angela’s heart started to melt as she listened to her mother. She could now see the point her mother was making and she didn’t want to argue anymore. She lay down beside her mother and listened to her like a baby listening to her mother read a bedside storybook. She knew that her mother was always objective in her appraisal of things and she was always practical. Angela always counted herself lucky for having a mother like her.

“I don’t want you to be too disturbed. You see, it may look to you like he doesn’t care. I am sure he does. And he loves you. But he is a man. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand that, Ma’am.” Angela’s eyes opened like an oyster.

Her mother cleared her throat. “You see, men are not as tough as they look. You go to the labour room and look at the faces of those husbands when their wives are having babies. If God was to change his mind and make men have babies, the midwives would have no jobs.” Both women laughed hysterically. “That, my dear, is what men are. Wimps.” She mopped the tears from the corner of Angela’s eyes.

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