My World!

(C) Olaoluwatomi
I took this picture two months ago and ever since then I have moved away from what I consider my world to a new one. I loved my job for it gave me the opportunity to travel which I love, it also allowed me to be myself. I loved the fact that I could jump out in the morning dressed only in a t shirt and jeans and be free to move around, I loved the feel of the wind on my face and the hum of the engine of the car and most especially the sights along the way. I remember how enthralled I was by the boabab trees along the way and took pictures of them every chance I got before I gradually grew used to seeing them.
I got down from the vehicle to ask for these men's permission to take the picture. The man in the white robe was very pleased to be my model and his silver tooth which does not show in this shot glinted when he smiled while looking at his picture on my digital camera.
I appreciated the simplicity of life when I met people like this who were not concerned about Madoff's Ponzi scheme or the proposed health bill in the US. They lived in mud houses and ate what they produced on the farms supplemented with bits that they bought in the market. They were content to ride on cows (this was the first place I ever saw people riding on cows, most times they hitched them to a cart) and work on their farms.
When I am het up about my career goals and aspirations and dissatisfied with how far I think I have come, I remember these set of people and realise that life is more than meat and drink, it is righteousness, peace and joy......

Comments

  1. Anonymous5:22 PM

    I love your blog page and in a few days, hope to get thru all of your blogs.(very interesting!) If you are interested, I have been looking for a pen pal. to write emails back and forth and beocme friends. If you have time to do this, please email me at: mtnpath3@yahoo.com
    Kathleen

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Death III

Image
In recounting my near misses, I can't but think of how many other misses I am unaware of. As a child, I was the only one who was hospitalized a few times compared to my siblings and cousins. I cannot remember if I ever felt sick enough to be at deaths door, but I do know I disliked getting injections. During one of my trips to the hospital I was to receive a Novalgin injection, for those of you old enough to remember Novalgin, it was the most painful torturous injection ever. I screamed hell and blue murder as the nurse approached with a Novalgin shot. 'I don't take injections', I lamented in my most piteous voice, you would think anyone with a heart would see the tears and back down but those nurses were a special breed. After a few minutes of my temporary madness, my father was summoned, it took just one look from him and I accepted the drilling of the syringe through my marrow (that was what it felt like) without as much as a squeak. The feeling Novalgin gave your bu...
Read more

Death 5

Image
Over the past few years, I have observed with much more attention, the passage of generations. I listened to the retirement speech of an old teacher of mine in medical school. She spoke about wondering why a classmate of hers in high school was bereft because her father had died in his 50s. Her own parents were in their 30s and according to her, she thought 50 was ancient. She tactlessly commented about her friends grief wondering why she was so distraught. She made us all laugh when she mentioned that now at the age of 70, she does not count herself as one of the ancients. My job brings me face to face with death on a daily basis and this has spurred me to put my house in order. I have had documents prepared for the disposal of my earthly benefits and I have appointed financial and health power of attorneys. I mention, like I mentioned in my last post to prevent the DMs that never fail to follow these posts, that I am not actively dying but I think preparing for death is as important ...
Read more

My Mother Tongue!

I grew up speaking English as my first language and I can tell you that is one fact I am not proud about. I remember once when we were much younger shouting out the only Yoruba words we knew as children 'olosi', 'oloriburuku' etc. My grandmother came out of the house hurriedly to put a stop to our foolishness, what on earth did we think we were doing? she asked, our reply still puts a smile on my face 'we are speaking Yoruba' we replied. My lack of proficiency in speaking Yoruba ( I can write it:) is revealed anytime I speak to my patients. When our conversation is not just me answering in monosyllables, I begin to speak rapidly in my mother tongue but by the end of my first two sentences, I hear myself stuttering and stammering and Im wondering if the patients don't think this doctor is having a sudden attack of catatonia! My Yoruba teacher in Secondary school summed up my Yoruba speaking prowess to my parents during an open day 'She is a good student b...
Read more