Happy New Day!

“Every day is the first day of my life” I read the preceding quote distractedly and recalled what my mentor once had said about time; There are only three days in my time conception;  Yesterday, Tomorrow and Today and explained their meaning.

Yesterday: - I call whatever has passed as ‘yesterday’, even something that had happened five minutes ago it is yesterday- because it has passed… gone. I have no control over it- it’s nothing but a flashback, unalterable memory.

Tomorrow: - tomorrow is the future, the unlived, indeterminate, that I am not certain about.

Today: – today is now, the only moment I am certain about, the moment of life, the only time I have; the instant I guarantee, and the time I can act upon!

Until I read the above quote and recalled my mentor’s definition of time, it has never clearly occurred to me that our life is made up of a single day. That one concrete day we have control of is today. Yesterday is nothing but a flashback and tomorrow is the unknown.

I suppose, we are given a new chance to start over our lives over today. That is why today is a Present. It is a precious gift. When I wake up on a new day, mindful that it in actuality, it is the only day I have, I promise myself to be grateful and present. I feel as if each waking day is my birthday. The day I get reborn, the day I am given a new chance to learn from yesterday’s experience and act upon today so that I may ensure a better tomorrow(perhaps, if I am given another waking chance). Happy New Day, Happy New Year!

Today

Am I old in time?

Or, I old in essence

Aren’t I born just now?

As old as present

What is but yesteryear?

Time that just went by

What is but yesterday?

The day that just gone by

As shadow as image

Bygone, in memory

That I cannot remake

Amend the outcome

So, I say…

“Today is my birthday!”

My first day of life!

My shot to blossom

My chance to flourish,

My day to feel alive!

                                                                               -------//--------

A Book that Changed my Life

My best friend and I were arguing about my habit of reading books. He doesn't like the kind of books I read, “Why do you read self-help and philosophical books? What do you get out of such books except confusions?”

I remembered what my professor used to say whenever he stars his class, “ OK folks! Let’s get confused.” According to my professor confusion is the road to clarity. Confusion is an integral part of life; life would be meaningless if there are no secrets to unfold, confusions to clarify...

I wanted to continue more but I figured I would end up confusing him further. For he hates confusion and complicating life, he doesn't even like an in-depth thought of things. “Things are what they are; what I see is what I want to believe I don’t want to dig deep and complicate my life.” Such is his common argument.

He asked me a simple yet rousing question, “Can you mention a single book that really changed your life?”

Of course! There are books that certainly changed my life. But here is particularly one for my friend’s satisfaction:

How to stop worrying and start living by Dale Carnegie, I read it when I was in one of the public Universities in Ethiopia. I was studding Applied Physics at the university, not by choice but because I was assigned to. That is how the education system works here. Most of the students are randomly assigned to study fields that are not according their choice. The ministry of education randomly assigns you or shall I say chooses for you the kind of field you should study.

Accordingly, I was assigned to study Physics; honestly speaking it was a subject I really hate. And hence, I tried to convince my families to go to a private university so I can study the choice of my field but they insisted I should try it and if not return. So I went to try it.

As I took few of the major classes I figured physics was not my thing and I was not a physics material; but I decided to carry on and just graduate even if I didn't liked the field.

My passion was reading not numbers. It was subjective analysis, not objective inquiry. So I carried on my hobby in the meantime. I go to the library to read philosophy books and some of my favorite author’s fictions.  

In one blessed day I went to the library and as if I was destined to, I randomly picked up the book I mentioned above. I started reading it and couldn't take my eyes of. The book got in to me. I was reading it line by line, word by word.

As I went further on the book, I read the following phrases that took my attention …if you want to be happy and successful with your life then here is my advice, for every activity in your life there are only two choices you should make. ‘Accept it’ or ‘change it’ do you like your job? Do you like the way you look, do you like your environment, do you like… if your answer is YES then accept it and be good at it and if your answer is NO then change it! These are the only two options in the game of life. To the contrary, most of us use a third option ‘complain’ we never accept or change our life but we simply complain. My friend let me tell you one thing, stop complaining and start being happy, ‘Accept it’ or ‘Change it’…

After reading the above phrases I asked myself ‘do I like my field of study, do I like physics?’ big NO! And at that moment I decided to ‘change it.’ I told my father that I decided to study a field of my interest in a private college and got him convinced to pay for the tuition. I also promised him I that I will win the trophy for an academic excellence and give it to him.  For I was too confident about my decision my dad couldn't refuse. He did as I requested. And I did as I promised. I scored all ‘A’s in all the courses I took and gave him the trophy I have been awarded for an ‘Academic excellence and leadership quality’.

My best friend knows the entire story except for the part that I decided to quit university because of a book. He couldn't argue more; he shook his head with amazement and said, “Now! This is a story to be told.’’  

  

Smoky Dreams

Kero was born in one of the very remote villages in Arba Minch-Ethiopia, out of a poor, small scale farmer’s family. He didn't have the chance to get formal schooling. At the age of 17, he is now looking forward for a better life and work in the town. Currently he is working as a Hookah-Man in one of the Hookah and Chat (Khat) chewing places in the town.

His daily task starts early in the morning. He gets up and barley washes his face, and then start cleaning up the mass chewing rooms that got messed up with sticks and leave of Chat remnants, ashes from charcoal, soft drink spills and other craps that filled each room.   

The cleaning usually lasts until the afternoon, where he would take a break for lunch. 1:00 PM on wards  kero gets ready to welcome his customers with his bright smile and friendly gesture. His usual customers start flocking on their regular times and the room gets filled all at once with all kinds of customers; some students, some business people, and others, random customers from the town. The customers are mostly youngsters aged from 20 to 35.

Aside the sound of the hookah and over-toned chatter from the crowd, the most caching sound you hear is the name ‘Kero’ called by his customers every now and then. They call him for any of their requests, soft drinks, hookah, chat, peanut, and other orders.

He gets busy satisfying the needs of every customer. He makes the hookah, test and start it as needed. He inhales smokes here and there. Every smoke he inhales burns the teenage lung out of him. He doesn't just smoke the hookah; he inhales his desires and exhales it to the fulfillment of his goals at the same time.     

Though you got to be interrupted every minute as he is being called by everyone, his friendly approach makes it easy to chat with him. I have noticed around three waiters in the place but everyone seems to like his name.

He gets a good monthly salary and allowance plus generous tips from his customers. That’s why he chooses this job. I asked him about his saving. For humble he was, he told me how much he saved in a year and half, which in fact is not bad for what it takes to foresee his short term goal.

His short term goal is to save money so he can buy a motorcycle first and then Bajaj, the common transplantation where there is relatively good money in small towns like Arba Minch.

You can read an assuring and decisive sense of passion from his eyes as he speaks about his future plan. Though he is not formally schooled, he seems to be a smart teenager. He sorted out his plan as short term and long term goals. As per his long term goal he wants to open a nice lodge in the town as Arba Minch is one of the most visited tourist destinations in the country …And so and so on, goes his dream with the blowing of the smoke.

At the moment, he is sacrificing what it takes to envision his dream with his energetic, ambitious and kind attitude. And, until the day he achieves his dream, he has to live in the smoke, he has to clean up other’s messes just to make his smoky dreams came true, for until the storm passes and the spring comes.   

Street Phylosophy II: Dinner with a Beggar

Prologue:

A friend of mine read my article "Street Philosophy" in the July issue of Zoma and we started talking about street-people. He thinks most street-people have bizarre stories and shared an intriguing story of an  aged beggar named Gash Beke, what follows is the story as he narrated it:

The Story:

I was having coffee with a friend of mine in the car. All of a sudden an old aged beggar appeared. He came close to my window and asked for money, after a moment of hesitation my friend took out one Birr, gave him and said, “Don't drink with it!” with an orderly tone. The old beggar sarcastically smiled and said, “No, I will buy a house with it” For I was not expecting that coming, I burst with laughter. Then, I rephrased what my friend wanted to say. “He meant buy something to eat” The beggar replied, “I am the one who knows why I'm in need of the money, he didn't asked me why I wanted it in the first place, so why is he telling me what to do now. It's up to me to decide that.” 

My friend interrupted, “let me ask you now, what are you going to do with the money I gave you?” “I will drink with it!” answered the old beggar proudly. Amazed with his honesty and quick replay I asked, “Have you eaten?” “Yes, in the morning” he replied. “It is dinner time now, aren't you hungry? Isn't it better if you eat than drink?” I hinted.  

“You only gave me one Birr, so with such amount of money I prefer taking my sleeping pill, Ouzo.” “Why alcohol over bread?” I asked. “My son you can do both, eat your dinner as well as drink till you get wasted; where as I have to choose either to eat or drink, so I choose to drink and have my joyful, warm sleep on the street.”

I and my friend felt sympathy listening after the old man's straight yet touchy reply. We then looked at each other and agreed to buy him dinner and a couple of beers for we were amazed with his honesty and straightforwardness.    

We asked him to get in the car; however, he refused for he thought he will ruin the car with his dirty clothes. We insisted that he get in, hesitant for a while; he finally got in and sat behind uncomfortably till we reached a nearby restaurant.

Eager to be amazed with more of his conversations, we quickly ordered three meals and asked him the story of his life. He told us everything about himself; that he used to be employed and earn a regular salary until he was unable to walk for months after a hit-and-run car accident. Due to that, he lost his job and small rent house for he has no one to support him. This was what he said, “…with just one unfortunate incident I ended up on the street.”

After we had had our dinner and a couple of beers we offered to give him some money as we were dropping him to his sleeping place, a corner of a street. “Why do I need money now? I have had my dinner and got enough to drink” said the old man calmly. “You might use it for tomorrow.” my friend suggested.

The old beggar smiled wistfully and said, “I have never slept on the streets with money in my pocket. If I have money left after my Ouzo I always give it to other friends. I don't have a house rent to pay, bills to cover or tax to be deducted, so why should I save money for? I have never thought about tomorrow; I may or may not wake up. I only live each day until bed time. Tomorrow is another day; it brings its own fortune. Every day is filled with surprises; we humans are blindfolded animals led by our fate; we don't choose our life, fate chooses for us. We have no will over life. That is exactly what happened to me; one unfortunate night made me the way I am now…”

He opened the door and as he stood leave he said, “If you listen to me, let me tell you one thing at last…” We gave him our ears, “My sons, you may work till you sweat, you may accumulate wealth, but know that there is also fortune in life. You don't know what will happen tomorrow; you don't know your destiny; so live each day like it is your last; be good, do good.” He then opened the car and went to his corner. 

My friend and I felt like we had spent the night with a wise shrink. His views and reflections reminded us of simple and yet great principles of life - simplicity and kindness.

My friend finished his narration and paused for a while until I myself woke up out of a meditative state of mind. I shook my head and said “What a story!”  My friend nodded reflectively.

End-note:

Out of my few encounters and stories I heard about street-people I realized that they are the kind of people whose lives put you in a continuous dilemma. Whatever names you give them- disfranchised, homeless, hobos, bums, street-people, or whatever stereotypes you have about them you don't get to know how humble, entertaining, frank and thoughtful they are until you get closer and chat with them; they will ask you absolutely anything and honestly tell you everything. 

Besides their shocking and surprising stories these people not only need our helping hand but our consideration and affection. Such is how you get to know their real story and hidden philosophic thoughts. 

After Story:

My friend became friends with Gash Beke, the old beggar. He used to visit him sometimes and chat whenever he was down; he thinks his advice helped him a lot... “I enjoy talking to him; he was the best adviser... Friends of Gash Beke on the street used to call me whenever he was sick. They used to think I was his biological son because he used to call me ‘my son’. I heard Gash Beke died on my return from a few months of training abroad. RIP Gash Beke!”

Dedicated to Gash Beke

Photo by Meklit Mersha, Zoma Magazine

 

 

Maybe we need some space

Prologue

“…Things are not working for us… I think we should spend some time apart… maybe we need some space.” These are common phrases people in a relationship use whenever the relationship loses its spark.

Usually when such statements pop out from one side unexpectedly, they cause devastation; especially if the couple is not in a balanced emotional state. The person with the lion’s share of emotions always gets hurt…

The story

My friends and I were chatting in laughing until one of our friends came in, his jaw clenched in anger. He said, “I told her that we needed some space.” The topic of discussion changed immediately, “Why? What happened? What did she say?” All of us bombarded him with questions.

Without responding to any of our questions he said, “Guys, I am not in a good mood, plus my head is going to blow so I should go home and rest.” All of us insisted that he stay with us so he could get over his bad mood but he was resolute. So, we let him go and took up a new topic of conversation: space in a relationship.

The argument

Mimi, 26 – I personally believe that nothing stays as it is forever. Hence, problems may occur in relationships. You may try to work on minor problems while you are still in the relationship, but there are times when you can’t face and fix some problems then and there. Whenever there are frequent arguments, or when you fail to understand each other, it’s time to take a break and try to solve things from a fresh perspective, without emotional attachment. 

Nani, 24 - Problems in relationships are inevitable, there are always ups and downs; if you give up whenever problems arise, you will end up with a series of short, broken relationships. I believe there isn’t anything people can’t solve through discussion. I firmly believe in discussion. Taking time off from a relationship is like a break up for me. 

Zizi, 27- Just because someone wants space, doesn’t mean it’s totally over. A guy may be bored and stressed out for several reasons and may loose track of his relationship. At such moments whatever you do may not bring him closer, instead it may push him away. So the best way is to give him a space to think. By being less available, he may realize what he has been missing.  I believe in destiny. As the saying goes, “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was yours.” After all, God just doesn’t give us what we want but what is right for us, whether we like it or not.  

Rabu, 25 – For no reason at all, sometimes you will loose the spark of a relationship. Things will become routine and boring. Guys won’t persistently give out the effort, care and respect they gave you at the beginning of the relationship. Once they make sure they have you under control, their attention will gradually drop off. They may eventually put their moves on the next girl. So, if talking and giving each other space for a couple of weeks doesn’t get you anywhere, then it’s time to press next, time to move on to plan B.

Ashu, 30- There are times when girls suffocate the living hell out of you and you need some time with your friends or alone so that you can explore new passions and hobbies. Some girls don’t give you breathing space, so we guys start to make up stories and frequent arguments will eventually arise. At times like this, a little bit of space helps. I can’t say for how long; sometimes a couple of days, sometimes weeks or even months.

 

Heny, 25 – I believe life is filled with tense moments- work, social life and so on. We get stressed out in all of these activities, which is why we take time off from all of these routines once in a while. The same goes for relationships. There are moments when relationships become disastrous, so obviously, you need to take time off.  I can’t exactly state the time limit of the space; the waiting period depends on the length of the relationship; if the relationship lasted long enough you don’t want to take the risk of losing it so quickly. Thus, you try to figure out things in shorter time period.  

Timmy, 26- I believe time matters in a relationship. Relationships are a series of journeys. Once you are on a continuous journey, you shouldn’t make the journey boring by going through it at the same speed. You have to change the gears once in a while. That’s why people should go to the next step- engagement, wedding, kids, and so on. This will keep the relationship fresh and exciting.

Mimi, Zizi, Rabu, Ashu and Heny think that maintaining some distance may help- with the thought of starting it fresh again after the break. On the other hand, Nani and Timmy argue the reverse. According to them, taking a break in a relationship is tantamount to agreeing to break up. There are probabilities of finding new people that can fill out the gap on such open moments. Regardless of one’s opinion n whether or not a break in necessary, the important thing is for both parties to agree on what works best for them. 

Published on Zoma Magazine, August, 2012 Issue

From the dairy of a Taxi Driver

May Day … honoring self and job 

I am not an educated man; my families were never rich and neither was I. My childhood was such a long and unexciting experience. I used to think that my childhood was static. My ambition as a child was never to be a doctor or an engineer like other kids, but to be a grown up; just to skip over that sore, lengthy childhood travel. I was just one an uncared-for kid out of a family of seven kids that just got grown up to be a casual taxi driver. 

I live a simple and routine life. I start each day with a routine of what I call my regular-adventure; thinking about the kind of customers and the amount of money I would make. 

I have met several people; I have shared plentiful topics and ear to various desperate as well as useful personal stories. I have listened to the radio for many years all day long. I have almost seen all corners of the city and perceived so many things, just driving! Driving different folks, all day long, every day…

I may seem one broke, hopeless, casual taxi driver; but I am not. I discovered that whenever I am engaged in any topic of conversation, I end up suggesting smart things that put people in wonders. 

I used to ask myself how a smart person like me ended up being a taxi driver, how I ended up transporting people that I don’t even know. I got my answer to this one question I always ask from one of my regular customers. He is a guidance counselor at an NGO. On one random day that I forgot the topic of discussion now, he said “we are responsible for what happens in our life; we somehow had desperately asked for the kind of person we are now, knowingly or unknowingly. After all, you get what you asked for.”

After these last phrases I was not in control of driving. I was rather being driven in to my own childhood period, ‘my long, sore childhood experience’ as I always put it. I used to feel that my childhood was so long that I will never grow to be an adult. I used to pray for some miraculous time machine to transport me in to an adult in one of my waking days. 

Well, “you get what you asked for” and here I am, a driver, a transporter. I drive all kinds of people to their destination, to their goal, to their dream… to wherever, they ask me to. I have a role that anyone can’t easily understand or realize. But again, I am that broke casual driver that transports the crowd to wherever they rush. 

I think I am a rebellious taxi driver, I bet no casual taxi driver thinks like me. It’s because I enjoy driving, I enjoy transporting. I hate to just sit and not go; I want to be always in drive. I hope that desperate childhood query of mine got the answers. I no more think that I am growing static; I am dynamic now, continually in move. Driving is something I give out of desire and affection. I am the help, the miraculous time machine I needed once to transport me away from my childhood. 

I don’t only drive over the roads but through the roads of anyone I transport. I share issues with my customers; I share their ride and share their thoughts. I think of myself as an integral part of their rush, their adventure. I always drive for two places; one, to my customers’ destination, and another, to my regular-adventure. 

I think I am a happy man now, busy with my regular-adventure, busy driving, busy transporting people to wherever they dash; the way I asked for, the way I wanted it.

Published on zoma magazine - June 2012 issue

                                                                                                                                        

Street Philosophy I: The story of a street, shoeshining teenager

In the paragraphs that follow is a shocking story and cynical philosophy of a shoe shining street teenager that made me doubt philosophy itself.

…I was having my shoes cleaned out around CMC here in Addis. The shoe shining girl is probably at the age of 15 from a rough gesticulation. I started conversing with her basically considering the rare shoe shining girls in our city. I asked if she was from Addis, she responded with her eyebrows stretched and lifted up, to mean yes in facial expression. She seems to be bored and thinking about something big as I guessed.

My senses sort of pushed me to forward another question “where do you live?” she replied again with a body language, pointing at a plastic tent behind me; “a street shoe shining teenager” I whispered to myself and felt terrible for her; but I didn’t want to make her feel bad showing her a pity face.

There was a moment of silence for a while, in the mean time, I couldn’t stop noticing her frequently pressing hard on to her belly. By way of diverting the topic, I asked if she was ok, “why are you squishing your belly?”  She took a moment before answering, and replied “I think… I am… pregnant” with a toned down yet careless manner. Trying to cover up my shock, from her unexpected response, I asked too many questions at once, “how? Do you have a boyfriend? How did you know if you are pregnant…?” With a sarcastic smile, she calmly responded, “I live on the street, perhaps if you noticed; so, sometimes, street boys ask me to sleep with them or do it forcedly. Well… some other times, I myself look for men to sleep with, so I can warmth my body from the cold lonely nights.”

Once again, shocked as I was listening after her calm and casual response, forwarded another question, “So… what are you going to do if you are pregnant?” she quickly replied, “I won’t be pregnant” amused as I was by her confident and quick answer, asked, “How come? Do you take medicines? Are you barren?” my usual, one after another wave of questions. She started feeling relaxed now replaying quickly to my questions, “It usually happens to me but I squish and kill the infant in my stomach by pressing hard and pinching my belly until I see my period back.” This time, she even noticed me shocked.

After taking a while by way of calming myself, I said, “why don’t you take pills or use condom, if you have to do what you are doing, meaning… sex.” Her reply was, “what for?” “…Well, for starters, you won’t be pregnant and more over you prevent yourself from sexually transmitted diseases like HIV/AIDS”, I felt like a health officer having said the above statement. Adding to the point I was trying to make, I asked, “Are you aware of the probability of having HIV from an unprotected sex?” she replied, “who cares if I have HIV, I’m dying anyways”, another shocking phrase, in a slapdash fashion.

Our conversation started to get more shocking and more interesting. In a consolation, I said the next phrase, “well, true, we all die; but, with your status- no medical care and no one to take care of you, you will suffer to die.” Having said the above bold statement, I was expecting she might reconsider her actions and argue with me regretting her past. However, contrary to my assumption, she was even more sarcastic with her replay this time.

“Am I not suffering already? Isn’t life full of misery? Isn’t it full of pain? What is the difference between having a miserable life and a miserable death? They are both the same. I’m suffering in life; yet, it won’t be something new for me to suffer in death. After all, that’s the way life goes, you suffer your whole life and then you will die.”

Another big moment of silence, she had done cleaning my shoes long ago; but, I didn’t want to leave for interested I were in our conversation. Yet, I have nothing to say, I didn’t know what to ask, or didn’t know what to say or suggest. In fact, I wasn’t sure I could have handled anymore of her frightening words (or should I say swords.) for they tore me in to emotional pieces...  

It felt like hours passed by before coming to my full senses, I thought I blacked-out for a while, lost my consciousness; I don’t really remember what I was feeling. Long after I had done calming myself, I wanted to say something at last; but then again, I figured no words of wisdom could change her mind; I bet not any outspoken person would change her mind. I guess her pessimism had been so tough that made me one right then.

Hence, I gave up the last talk thought. After all, who am I to suggest or advice? Who am I to say stuffs for I know nothing of what she had been through. Only she had felt the real pain, only she had lived the misery. I have devastated listening after her story only, let alone living it; no wonder where she got this glumness…

Looking at my watch, I figured it was time for me to go; thus, I left leaving her a fat tip. In my way back home, I couldn’t take her out of my mind. “What a philosophy!” I somehow regretted for not making that last speech;

…I wish I could have given her hope, I wish I could have said some of the wisdom words I knew, “You can choose either to be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of a treasure. It’s all a question of how you view your life.” - Paulo Coelho; or “Our life is what our thoughts make it” - Marcus Arulies, may be life isn’t as awful as you had pictured it… tomorrow will be a better day… etcetera, etcetera  

But then, it would have been nothing but an obvious shallow advise; specially for a bold, sarcastic girl like her. Plus, I wouldn’t have made an excellent last speech for I didn’t have that emotional strength to have her make up her mind so she could change her philosophy.

...It felt like my mind recorded all the conversation and played it repeatedly. I was impulsively shaking my head as I was going my long walk home. “…What a philosophy!”

Experts in the field categorize such kind of philosophy as Philosophical Skepticism. It is a kind of philosophy that is based on ambiguity and doubt ranging to disbelief to the reality of the external world. People with low socio-economic status and desperation tend to follow skepticism because it is the kind of philosophy that gives such people the uncertainty about facts and reality.

I remembered what the Ethiopian Awramba’s Society leader Zumra Nuru once said about philosophy, “one’s philosophy about life is neither gained from formal schooling nor lost from lack of it.” And he was right, despite our educational, economic, or other status we all ask different questions about life in general and the specifics in it. And so, we tend to follow the kind of philosophy that seems to temporarily answer our question.

And so, after listening to this awe-inspiring story I now, truly believe that, “Everyone is a philosopher” for life is full of questions from everywhere; mostly, from the streets.

           

Dedicated to the shoe shining teenager and others who are living in desperate situations by justifying their actions with philosophical skepticism /a philosophy based on rejecting the ‘reality’ of the world/. What is ‘reality’ anyways? I don’t know… another big issue in philosophy.