Roses in the Wild

 You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

There was the message of the cross, there was a prayer at the Golgotha, there was a denial by Peter, upon whose name the church was built, and the gate of hell never prevailed, there was a woman who was casted about to be condemned by the holier than thou, and there was Christ who asked, who among you who have not committed a sin should cast the first stone, moving forward, there was a great question by Pontius Pilate asking choose before you this day between Barabbas and Jesus who is called Christ, and the people chanted in the affirmative, and there was a woman who want to eat her last food and go on to be with the Lord, they call her the widow at Zarephath, and there came a change.

The above narrative does seems to me deviating into the religious topic, no, it is a common law that writers be familiar with most subject if not all, this attitude remind of my days studying Architecture, during one of my project defense, I finish up my hand drafted design even though you can't come up with all requirements and details of drawings because timing is too short, I presented and defended my drawings, at the Interior design stage, I drew a lady in the Jacuzzi, with a stint of her upper body showing the two oranges in its entirety, while my colleagues laughs at me, I felt embarrassed, but to summon a bold face, I laugh alongside. As I was expecting a scolding from my supervisor who is a Pastor, he calms everybody, and gave me a thumb up for the drawings, saying, an 'Architect is a jack of all trade and master of all". That I represented my drawings well, I slept happily that day, it gave me new fonts to boldness.

Sorry I digress, where we are going is not far, but where we branch is what take us this long. I share with you the story of my early days as a kid in If 1995 was a year and I talked about my elementary school days, and in that short story was a silence of words.

While growing up, after each term, every student collects their results card, it is of different colors, mine was Yellow, with student's name written on the front page and their scores on the preceding pages. Little do the school knows that some students can't bear with failures or can't handle the pressure of failing. So, after collecting our results, if you performed well, you hold your heads high, jumping home, like me I am very sure of a reserved seat, with a sumptuous meal, and some candies, in those days it was sweet with sticks that we called it, what is now known as lollipop today. For the rest of the graduating week, I am allowed to do as I wished, the freedom to play football, go all out to play with peers.

While I am allowed to do as wished, some students go home to being flogged, they are sometimes starved, and given a comparison topic, can't you perform like so, so and so, so?  I can imagine the pain!

 

“We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses blooming outside our windows today.” – Dale Carnegie

There was this certain lady who was in that circle, she failed her subjects, the next thing we heard was that she took a poisonous substance just to end her life due to the shame in repeating a class, oh, it was a 'Father Bernard' situation!

Another one of such kind, was a lady whose pride leads her to take another similar move too. She was the girl of talk by the Big Boyz in school but turned them down in a show of class and beauty of sort, when she collected her result, she took a rat poison mixture and got off...

During these moments, I wept!

This is two among many, others couldn't be brought back to life, but these two survived. It was like a culture of honor in those days. As much as I won't glorify sad events, the story was sweeter when I reminded the ladies who are now grown-ups on their separate wedding days of the step they once took just because of a setback, a failure, a one-year change in time of life to shine, which in its entirety was not fatal but they make it all look ambiguous.

On one of such occasion, I shared the story to our course mate, who all praise the name of God for keeping and preserving them, I smile, I was tagged a storyteller, little did they know of my imbibed culture of ASNF - 'A Son Never Forgets'.

The issues of failure are a thing we can all live above, failure itself is not fatal, it is the ability to rise that matters. In the making of a flint one will fall, rise, fall again, and on many occasions remain down for quite a time before rising. While I understand the shame and pressure failure brings, the depression that comes with it, the sadness that grips the heart, the fuss people make about it, or the name calling people attach to it, all these should not be a reason to remain down, or going to the extreme of taking one's life, a life you can't create? Rather, be optimistic, take the bold steps, beat yourself to making yourself proud.

Weep, if you need to, roll yourself in shame if that is what you need at the point, but remaining down won't help you, nor the situation, rather singing a victorious song, or telling yourself just like Tupac - "Still I Rise", Yes you will rise up. Remember the best of the society once failed, maybe yours come too fast, also remember the days ahead is much more than the ones you have lived in, why forgo beautiful unseen future, to the hard seen times? 

Today, as we join the voice of other African writers to be a voice against failure, and depression, I make bold to say to you, Be the Best, live in the moment, hope strong!

We can all be a voice for change in the moments we see our fellow brethren failing, we can be a supportive pillar by our actions and deeds, and if not, we can be a people joined by progress. Let's write to lift a spirit up.

NOTE: Just like Davido "We rise by lifting others" - We are all roses in the wild.