To kill an inspiration

Tahir was carefully navigating our car out of the parking lot of the crowded mosque, when I picked up today’s newspaper from the back seat and began to read. I’ve since learnt that driving out of the mosque after Tarawih prayers is a task for expert drivers, so I never offered to drive us home. Suddenly I saw something on page three of the paper that made me blurt out in anger.

‘He shouldn’t have disclosed this. What an ill-advised decision. Now I wonder what good his truthfulness will serve.’ I observed.

‘Who are you talking about Bint? And since when did truthfulness stop being a virtue?’ Tahir responded, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at me.

‘When it fails to serve any meaningful purpose.’ I replied, enigmatically, with my eyes still on the newspaper page I was reading.

‘Can you explain what you mean? I mean at any point in time being truthful can never be a vice, but in Ramadan it’s more than just any virtue, it is among the best of them. So how can you find fault with any manifestation of it?’ He demanded, his eyes on the road this time.

‘I am referring to this Jigawa man called Musa Usman, who was a guard for an Indian National in Lagos. A few weeks ago he made news because he reportedly turned down the offer of a personal house, to be built for him by his employer, in exchange for a borehole to serve his whole community. Accolades we’re showered over him in both social and traditional media, for his exemplary display of selflessness and communal spirit.

Now, for whatever reason, he surfaced to say he did no such thing. In an attempt to apparently set the record straight, he claimed that his employer never offered him a house but just said he wanted to visit his village, after which he decided to build them a borehole.

And my question here is: what purpose does this clarification serve besides killing the inspiring story of good character and love for one’s brethren which the earlier story portrayed?’ I queried.

‘But the first story wasn’t true. It was the figment of someone’s imagination. How can you applaud an untruth just because it sounds nice and inspiring to your ears?’ Tahir protested.

‘Because it is an encouragement to virtue, Hubby dear. I mean here is a poor man, who spent 25 years of his life living in servitude as a guard, in front of other people’s house and far from the village and the family he knows. Never having had a worthy house to call his own, it is to be expected that he would jump at any opportunity to own a descent home. But when the offer was made, he decided that the people at home deserved more than to see his personal house as a reward for his years of service to other men, they deserved something they could gain from too, something to make their lives easier. So he decided to give up on his personal gain and invest in a communal need. Now isn’t this a story you’d be glad to tell your young ones over and over again, because it is full of kindness, selflessness and the spirit of sacrifice?’ I asked, rhetorically.

‘Yes Bint, it’s a nice little story with all the virtues that mankind admire in it. But it never happened. That’s the simple truth. It didn’t happen that way and I’m glad that the man doesn’t want to take credit for what he didn’t do. He doesn’t want to be made a hero when he believes he does not deserve it, period.’ Tahir insisted.

‘Fine, but look at the new, true version. What does it inspire? A rich Indian man, who probably made all his money here, decided to reward his 25-year long maiguard for hardwork and loyalty. So he asked to be taken to his hometown and he constructed a borehole for their use. Now who will this inspire? The Indian man is rich, he isn’t making any sacrifice. He isn’t putting anyone’s need above his. Yes it’s commendable that he tried to help our poor country men but it is probably out of his company’s social responsibility budget. So he won’t feel any deprivation and pain because he is comfortable enough. Meanwhile the story of a guard doing it is enough to warm any heart. It is an inspirational tale of love and sacrifice.’ I concluded.

‘But it still isn’t true Bint. That’s what I want you to accept. Sounding nicer to the ears doesn’t make it the truth. And I disagree with you that the Indian man’s gesture isn’t inspiring. It is an act worthy of emulation any day. Tell me if you’ve ever heard of a Nigerian boss who went to such great lengths to reward his employer just because they were together for 25 years. Yes, maybe you’ll run into one who could offer him money or give him an old car or even an old house. But to meet someone who would say ‘Take me to your village because now we are like family so I want to know your roots. Then after reaching there he remembered that you have often said your people’s main problem was lack of potable water and he quickly arranged to build a borehole. Now, this is a rare display of kindness and empathy which is as inspirational, in it’s own way, as your selfless maiguard fake news.’ Tahir concluded, heatedly.

:Ok Hubby dearest’ I said, putting my hand on his, as he raised the handbrake in our car port. ‘Let’s not expend too much energy deciding which story is more inspirational. My whole point is there is no need to make the clarification, it serves no purpose, unless someone forced him to do it because the person couldn’t stand Musa Usman’s hero status. So anyway you look at it, those villagers benefitted and that’s the most important thing.’ I declared with a smile.

‘Yes it is.’ He concurred, smiling back.