Selfishness or self care?
As we grow, putting ourselves first becomes more important. This, in society’s vocabulary, is being selfish. Selflessness, however, will always be received with open arms–especially when it takes you 6 feet under.
Here are the stories of three Nigerians who came to this realization too, and now wear the badge of selfishness without a stitch of shame.
Idris*, 28
My dad was very big on family–so much that having 8 boys did not stop him from still accommodating his siblings in our 7 bedroom house. That arrangement was not convenient for anyone of us but that’s how we lived anyway.
My father, a radionic, and my mum, a grocer–both worked tirelessly to see my dad’s siblings through school. I guess they both saw that as an investment.
There was no way they would have guessed that the people they sponsored to become pharmacists, lawyers, and police officers would become anti-literacy crusaders.
My uncles told my parents that they saw no reason why we were so hyped to attend higher institutions. No penny from them–and with our parents already fragile, it was really tough.
A lot of people wonder why I vehemently guard my resources–I guess they will never understand.
Didi*, 30
My siblings and I used to live with an aunt whose behavior would make even Patience Ozokwor cringe. One time, because of five naira, “Mummy” as she instructed us to call her, set my half-brother, on fire–literally.
Thankfully, he didn’t die, but he very well neared heaven’s gates. After several failed attempts, I broke out and took my younger brother with me–this would turn out to be a big mistake!
I emptied all the money I got from menial jobs to enroll this boy in fashion design training, while still footing his other expenses.
My brother, Daniel, started getting rich clients and that was when the carnival started. Brother dearest could not leave the trenches fast enough and he didn’t think to take his sister along. No one believes me whenever I say we are related.
I learned my lesson and never shall affliction rise again.
Campbell*, 27
Peju and I were pretty much tight not in a lovers’ way but in the “we have many things in common way”. I liked her bubbly personality and had made it clear that all I wanted was friendship. Pretty cool arrangement until I noticed that she only came to see me when she needed stuff.
One time, because she complained about a shortage in funds, I gave her the money I had saved up for rent. But when my vinegar period came, guess who was MIA? Peju.
I wasn’t expecting her to give me money–she apparently never had anyway–but I got tired of hearing excuses upon excuses about how her mum had been sick and how she didn’t have money to take care of her.
Imagine my surprise seeing a video of my apparently broke friend lavishing bundles of cash at a supposedly coded house party. I cleared her and have since then, kept all kinds of “generosity” minimal.
If I no janfani you, you cannot janfani me. Periodt!
#PeopleTalk is a submissions segment for everyday people to talk straight about the twists and turns of everyday life. This edition tells the stories
