No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much
dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem". - Booker T. Washington
Not too long ago, my neighbourhood had assumed a state of shabbiness which resulted from successive iilicit refuse disposal by some defiant and anonymous people.
Unfortunately, we've had this problem from way back since the designated garbage bins for my neighbourhood were relocated to a new spot virtually inaccessible. A development we discovered was born more out the labourers' selfish intentions for less demanding waste discarding process than their "to enable us serve you better"trickery.
I personally don't see how having to haul some putrid sack of maggoty and mossy rubbish for about one kilometer (this is an assumption since I have never been able to determine distance measurements or any measurement for that matter) adds up to "serving me better".
Serving me better was once upon a time (as fantastic as this reality seems now) when garbage truck drove from block to block, while some jolly good labourers picked up full knotted bags of trash in exchange of fresh trash bags. But then that was before the inception of the present Enugu State Waste Management Agency (ESWAMA) in 2004, set up to replace the defunct Enugu State Environmental Protection Agency (ENSEPA) which was ludicrously said to have "failed to meet the challenges of modern day waste management.
Anyway, I seethe and digress.
Not necessarily in adherence to the endorsed and customary last Saturday environmental sanitation activities, I eagerly and singly took to sanitizing our environment yesterday.
With a rake in red gloved hands, a backup hoe, broom and matchet, protectively clad in a red T-shirt over a thick pair of gray coloured leggings and black boots with a multi-coloured scarf firmly secured on my head, I scraped the earth, excavated buried waste, pulled them altogether into a heap, cleared through some shrubs that harboured more scraps and assembled them in trash bags that tallied up to about twenty.
It was hectic.
My body still feels crushed.
Regardless of the magnitude of the effort I invested yesterday and the acute muscle sprain I feel now, it was an exercise that awarded me so much pride and joy every second of its accomplishment, not just from compliments I wished would stop but also from sheer satisfaction to have achieved something every other person failed to notice or ignored.
If I have to, I'll do it again.
Here are stuffs that I learnt from my "purifying" experience
1. I'll never look at scavengers the same way again. From someone who would totally carry out the same labour for free, I sincerely respect their noble occupation.
2. No matter what it is you and I do for a living, every work is dignified, respectable and important. Let's all learn to be civil towards conductors, our drivers, nannies, cooks, security guards, all those people we are foolish and misguided enough to deem as "below our cadre".
3. There is nothing wrong in the nature of any work. It's important how you look at it and do it. A dignified work becomes undignified if it is done in the wrong and unfair means. A so-called undignified work becomes dignified if it is done in a decent manner and by honest means.
4. You should not suffer from any form of inferiority complex from your job. Instead, have a devotion to work and have faith in the sacredness of the work that you do.
5. My effeciency in the use of tools generating a surprising passion for Agriculture, something I was literally forced to do in secondary school.
6. The Igbo adage that says "agbasia egwu, o na n'ukwu", (metaphorically translated to mean "the inevitability of the consequences of our actions") finally makes sebse to me. It's become laborious carrying out simple activities like walking, eating, stretching, sitting. Squatting or bending is highly improbable.
And that's it.
Wish all the best this week.
Unfortunately, we've had this problem from way back since the designated garbage bins for my neighbourhood were relocated to a new spot virtually inaccessible. A development we discovered was born more out the labourers' selfish intentions for less demanding waste discarding process than their "to enable us serve you better"trickery.
I personally don't see how having to haul some putrid sack of maggoty and mossy rubbish for about one kilometer (this is an assumption since I have never been able to determine distance measurements or any measurement for that matter) adds up to "serving me better".
Serving me better was once upon a time (as fantastic as this reality seems now) when garbage truck drove from block to block, while some jolly good labourers picked up full knotted bags of trash in exchange of fresh trash bags. But then that was before the inception of the present Enugu State Waste Management Agency (ESWAMA) in 2004, set up to replace the defunct Enugu State Environmental Protection Agency (ENSEPA) which was ludicrously said to have "failed to meet the challenges of modern day waste management.
Anyway, I seethe and digress.
Not necessarily in adherence to the endorsed and customary last Saturday environmental sanitation activities, I eagerly and singly took to sanitizing our environment yesterday.
With a rake in red gloved hands, a backup hoe, broom and matchet, protectively clad in a red T-shirt over a thick pair of gray coloured leggings and black boots with a multi-coloured scarf firmly secured on my head, I scraped the earth, excavated buried waste, pulled them altogether into a heap, cleared through some shrubs that harboured more scraps and assembled them in trash bags that tallied up to about twenty.
It was hectic.
My body still feels crushed.
Regardless of the magnitude of the effort I invested yesterday and the acute muscle sprain I feel now, it was an exercise that awarded me so much pride and joy every second of its accomplishment, not just from compliments I wished would stop but also from sheer satisfaction to have achieved something every other person failed to notice or ignored.
If I have to, I'll do it again.
Here are stuffs that I learnt from my "purifying" experience
1. I'll never look at scavengers the same way again. From someone who would totally carry out the same labour for free, I sincerely respect their noble occupation.
2. No matter what it is you and I do for a living, every work is dignified, respectable and important. Let's all learn to be civil towards conductors, our drivers, nannies, cooks, security guards, all those people we are foolish and misguided enough to deem as "below our cadre".
3. There is nothing wrong in the nature of any work. It's important how you look at it and do it. A dignified work becomes undignified if it is done in the wrong and unfair means. A so-called undignified work becomes dignified if it is done in a decent manner and by honest means.
4. You should not suffer from any form of inferiority complex from your job. Instead, have a devotion to work and have faith in the sacredness of the work that you do.
5. My effeciency in the use of tools generating a surprising passion for Agriculture, something I was literally forced to do in secondary school.
6. The Igbo adage that says "agbasia egwu, o na n'ukwu", (metaphorically translated to mean "the inevitability of the consequences of our actions") finally makes sebse to me. It's become laborious carrying out simple activities like walking, eating, stretching, sitting. Squatting or bending is highly improbable.
And that's it.
Wish all the best this week.
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