Skip to main content

HOW TOUGH IS YOUR TIME?

 

HOW TOUGH IS YOUR TIME?

 Look up the definitions of pressure, stress, toughness, challenge, hardship. Yes, these are not mere words; they are situations we face as humans in a world where time gives no hoot about what you are going through. It keeps moving like an endless train with many passengers confused about the next stop or the condition of the engine, or the longevity of the journey.

 The world faces its problems. Countries fight their wars; continents battle their evils. States wrestle their fears, and it goes down to the individual. A woman fights just as a man does his demons. They come in the form of psychological traumas, financial hardships, career blocks, relationship ghosts and all sorts of whats and hows and when and who and where.

 

In my father’s time, the challenge was having values. In my time, it is acquiring wealth or being successful. In the future, it might be visiting Mars like it was a stone throw. Who knows? Still, time is having a smoke while we all harden or soften up to our problems. How tough is your time? Is the minute hand too slow for you? Is the second hand too fast, or the hour hand too short?

 How tough is your time? It is either you are struggling to go through school. You are searching for a job. You need a husband, wife, child, sound health or visa. You want an increase in salary or for your business to flourish. How tough is your time? I think my time does not move as slowly or fast as yours. I think that when I am asleep, you might be awake, so don’t expect the same cock that crows for me to do the same for you. I think that your strides are longer than mine because you are taller. I think that the storm in my house might be a drizzle in yours. So, why should you need a boat?

 Nobody’s time is the toughest. Nobody’s day is more than 24hours. And so does nobody’s hard times last a lifetime. If we can battle the drowning periods together, we’ll walk on the waters as Jesus did. If we can give a hug to a sorrowful soul, we’ll have wings big enough to fly as high as we want to. If we are concerned about the smiles we can put on people’s faces, we wouldn’t need makeup to give us bright faces. How hard can your time be?

 

 I saw that little boy under a thunderstorm, with torn clothes and feet with no shoes. He appeared as one in a castle, waiting for his servants to attend to his needs until the sound of thunder jerked him to his harsh reality. He looked at the long line of cars stuck due to a problematic vehicle up ahead. He looked away to the hawkers trying to win buyers. He looked at the eatery beside him and slowly resolved to sit on the wet floor with eyes filled with tears being washed away by the rain. How tough his time is. No one is interested in giving a helping hand especially when it is pouring like crazy. Painful sights are too rampant these days; they are like the routine of a church service. Once the preaching is over, the grace is shared; everyone heads home. This boy is preaching to everyone who sees him but we are all waiting for one thing or the other to end the service. For me, I was waiting for the groundnut seller to hand over my change so I could settle the conductor and head home broke, with my groundnut and bread waiting to serve as my dinner. You could say my time is tough too.

 In conclusion, if you have good health, be glad. If you have had a meal today, be grateful. If you have a roof over your head, be thankful. If you have a source of income, oh blessed are you. If you have good people around you, what more do you need? Still, these are hard times. Not a handful of people can boast of having the stated luxuries of life. There are many wicked people around these days. Although, we all see ourselves as good Samaritans until we hear a neighbour praying against our wickedness in the middle of the night. Or, people laying curses upon you for being a terrible leader. Or your congregation calling you a thief for taxing them too often. Or that little boy cursing the country he was born in. It goes on and on but, in the end, our tough times will eventually fade away!

 If you have read, share so someone’s hard times can be softened a little and don’t forget to be honest.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MAKEOVER

  When she realized her hair was gone, the barber had increased the volume of his radio and India Arie’s ‘I am not my hair’ filled the room. ‘If I can manage the situation like a professional, my construction contract with her father will hold tomorrow,’ I thought. I breathe in and out, a logic that never works for me, but I do it anyway. I rehearse my words, changing each sound to a softer version of the previous one - aligning my looks to the words so that my eyes become half closed and there is a faint smile on my face. I wait for the explosion. All the while, the barber is busy touching what is left on her head with his clipper. He says it is the final addition and calls it the moon look. He fumbles with the chair, turning Stella from left to right like a child’s play. The large mirror in front of us escalates the mishap and the fumes on my girlfriend’s face seem to be burning the white walls. It was meant to be a makeover since her 25 th birthday was the next day. Now it...

WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS

In those days, when it rained we would stay by the window and watch how the trees danced to the beats of the wind, the singing of raindrops and thunder. The lighter the music, the closer our legs would get to the door post, quietly watching the eyes of our mother; and waiting for an approval. When she wiggled her legs, it was a negative signal. But when she praised the beautiful works of God in the rainy moment, it was a positive sign. Note, there was no going outside when it rained in the night. That was why Joseph composed the song: Rain visit us when the sun is not old Rain sing for us when the moon is not young So that mother will open the door for us to play with you So that papa will come home dry and happy. Rain visit us as we sing to you. Rain oh rain oh rain. That particular day, the rain was deaf to our singing, or calling and yelling. We became frustrated because the sun was kissing the lines of the sea, workers were returning home while livestock owners were gathering their...

WHEN WE ARE OLD

  I heard them laughing, pointing at different buildings at each bus stop. Some were tall, old, and short buildings but they had something in common. They were whitewashed. The daughter talked more than her mother. She even laughed out loud sometimes as if they were the only passengers onboard. They occupied the first two seats on the deck of the bus and could see the clouds moving slowly even better than the driver. The daughter pointed to a small house and said to her mother:  “Ma, do you remember Auntie Debbie? She used to live in a tiny house just like that. Ha-ha! It was too small to even accommodate our cat when I was 7, remember?” “Yes, I remember darling. But you’re all grown up, tired of kitty. She is all mine now.” They both smiled and then the daughter mumbled something, and it turned into a wild laugh, as if something went awry in their heads. My mother will not laugh with me like this. Never! I thought. In fact, I dared not laugh at anyone’s house - big or small. ...