Who am I to judge? Part 2

Behind every face is a story… Do you know everyone’s story? No? Then don’t take it upon yourself to judge… One of my life’s mantras is, “Do unto others what you would like others to do unto you”. I learnt this “Golden Rule’ when I was in high school, and I must admit, ever since, I’m gradually learning to be empathetic. It’s unbelievable how much insight one gains from walking a mile in someone else’s shoe.

For instance, recently I read some nasty comments/sentiments regarding actress Cameron Diaz’ announcement about the birth of her son. What’s so heart-breaking is the fact that many people criticized her for choosing to be a mother at 51.

Looking at it from a child’s perspective, I understand why it might not be a good idea to have parents that old. I understand that all too well because several years ago, mom’s employer at the time was a 50-something year old guy (now deceased), who had remarried after divorcing his first wife.

His second wife was in her thirties when she gave birth to their son. By the time the boy was seven, he was already complaining that kids at his school were bullying him because his dad was too old. A few years later his dad died.

Subsequently, the boy, who had not joined high school yet, dropped out of school, unable to withstand the intense bullying. He never went back to school. Right now, he’s a young man in his early twenties. I’m thinking, if anyone sort his opinion on parents getting children when they are ‘too old’, he might be among those who discourage it.

That notwithstanding, I also empathize with older women, who get babies when they are past the ‘expiry date’ society has determined for them. I remember attending my big sister’s Masters graduation a couple of years ago, and their Vice-Chancellor, a very successful woman, expressed her regrets about not having children of her own.

While she did not delve into the details of the exact circumstances that prevented her from becoming a mother, the tone of her voice conveyed great sadness; she was full of regret. I can almost bet, if menopause wasn’t such a permanent impediment to women’s reproduction, she might have taken the risk of conceiving, her age notwithstanding.

So now on one hand, lies the profound desire of a woman to have her own children, and on the other, are a child’s predicaments for having relatively old parents. As a bystander, it’s easy to point fingers at women who give birth after thirty-five, which is the scientifically recommended ‘age limit’ for child-bearing; because as has been argued by most experts, after thirty-five, female fertility starts to decline pretty fast. Hence the all-too-common phrase about the ‘ticking biological clock’.

However, fact is, there are several reasons why a woman might not be able to conceive and give birth within the recommended time frame. I find it interesting that some people actually think it’s a choice.

Truth is, some women try for years and years, before finally conceiving and carrying the pregnancy to term. For some, much as they desire to be parents, they cannot even afford the costs involved in In-vitro-fertilization (IVF) and surrogacy. That begs the question, ‘Who are we to judge?’ As the saying goes, ‘It’s only the wearer who knows where the shoe pinches’.

Society tends to frown upon Advanced maternal age (so called geriatric pregnancy, which occurs when a woman is over the age of 35); interestingly, in comparison, very little is said about advanced paternal age.  

Similarly, while many people are fixated on female menopause, men’s andropause (male menopause) does not get as much attention. That’s why some people are unaware of the potential ramifications of the aforementioned Advanced Paternal Age on the offspring; for instance, increased risk of genetic defects such as  Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder and Autism, among others.

The way I see it, this skewed (against women) criticism stems from ignorance. Why do most people sanitize pregnancies sired by men in their 70s and 80s, but when 51-year-old Cameron Diaz announces the birth of her son, some people call her selfish?

What makes her selfish? Is it because she took a hiatus from her lucrative acting career to focus on motherhood? I find the scathing attacks advanced against women unwarranted. Why do we feel entitled to say how another person should live their life? Do we know their story?

We are told, “Those who do not learn from history are bound to repeat it”. If memory serves me right, before celebrated Marvel’s Actor, Chadwick Boseman, met his untimely demise, he appeared to have lost so much weight.

Without bothering to find out whether it was intentional or he was ill, people jumped on a vitriolic, body-shaming bandwagon, mocking him for his drastic weight loss. Little did they know, he’d been battling colon cancer for four years, and the chemotherapy he was undergoing was the reason why.

Since he had not disclosed this information to the public, it only came out after his death. Ordinarily, this should have been a stark reminder for people to be compassionate; and consequently, slow to judge… but no… We are still not learning; that judgment should be left only to God, who is Omniscient. We, on the other hand, only make baseless findings, based on what our finite minds decipher from the scanty information we pick up on the internet.

In some instances, our judgment pushes some people to suicide, when the bullying feels unbearable. It’s really unfortunate! As it is, Chadwick’s saddening story should bolster the ‘Who am I to judge’ attitude in all of us. He never lived to receive apologies from all those who taunted him.

Fasting Without Truth of the Heart: Part 2

Like the Pope said, Jesus Himself condemned strict adherence to traditions (Matthew 15: 8-9), where He said of the Pharisees and teachers of the Law, “These people honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are merely human rules”.

In Matthew 15: 17 – 20, when they (Pharisees and teachers of the law) asked why His disciples were breaking tradition of the elders by eating with unwashed hands, Jesus replied, “Don’t you see, that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? But the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them. For out of the heart come evil thoughts – murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a person; but eating with unwashed hands does not defile them”.

In essence, that is what the Pope was alluding to in his 2015 homily about fasting. If one is abstaining from meat, why? Is it just because the Church requires us to fast? Do we only abstain from meat, then continue indulging in other things that displease God? If that’s the case, then one can proceed to eat meat, because God looks at the intention.

My mom was telling me how she met up with a neighbour this past Tuesday. She seemed rather distressed, and without mom prodding, she volunteered unsolicited information about what was denying her peace of mind. Admittedly, she had bumped into some friends the previous Friday, and forgetting we were in Lent, she had helped herself to lots of meat. It didn’t dawn on her she had eaten meat on a Lenten Friday, until a couple of days later. “Does that mean I should go for confession”, she asked mom.

Mom, who thankfully was a Catechist years ago, told her she didn’t need to go confess, because God understood she had not violated that Church rule willingly. The friend relaxed instantly. Eating meat did not automatically make her a sinner, because God is not a stickler… He judges us by our intentions.

Holy Thursday marked the beginning of the Easter Triduum (period of three days: Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday, when Catholics commemorate the last days of Jesus before His Passion on the Cross, and His subsequent resurrection on Easter Sunday). The implication of this is that the forty days of Lent are coming to an end.

The three pillars of Lent are: Praying, Fasting and Alms giving. Seeing as the forty-day Lenten period is coming to an end, one can make an assessment of their conduct: did I pray? Did I fast? Did I help those in need? Like the Priest I mentioned at the beginning of this post said, it’s still not too late to fast; and what are we abstaining from? All our vices.

Eating meat did not put Jesus on the Cross; our sins did. Therefore, it matters not if we abstain from certain foods. Subjecting others to degrading treatment and defying the Commandments is what will earn us God’s wrath. Like Jesus said, we cannot possibly love a God we’ve never seen, if we do not love our neighbours (1 John 4: 20).

Fundamentally, fasting is important because it helps us detach from worldly things; because only then, can we commit ourselves fully to serving God. For instance, if the desire to acquire money makes you corrupt, abstain from those corrupt ways; if desire for power makes you use underhanded tactics to acquire that power, abstain from those scheming ways; if you are cheating on your partner, abstain from that unfaithfulness. That change won’t happen overnight, but one has to start from somewhere.

Our forty-day fasting period is derived from the fasting of Jesus in the wilderness, right after His baptism (Matthew 4: 1-11). While He managed to withstand hunger and thirst for that long, we cannot go for that long without food and water even if we tried. Reason being, Jesus is God, and that means His endurance levels were ‘super-human’. In that regard, I doubt God expects us to always come out of the ‘wilderness’ triumphant like His Son did.

Nonetheless, what He requires from us is to see us fight those temptations. During the Ninth Station of the Way of the Cross, Jesus falls a third time, to show us He understands when we try and try, but fall again and again. He wanted us to have someone to look to for example, so we wouldn’t feel discouraged. In a nutshell, what God expects from us is holiness; not perfection.

Therefore, even as we come to the end of the Lenten period, we are invited to keep fighting the vices that crucified Jesus. This is by giving up habits that displease God. It is not too late to start fasting; as long as we are human, every day is a fasting day; and fasting, will help us grow in virtue.

Fasting Without Truth of the Heart: Part 1

Last Sunday, we celebrated Palm Sunday. It marked the beginning of the Holy week, which in turn means, the forty-day period of Lent is coming to an end. Last week Sunday in church, the Priest told us it was not too late for those who had not started their fast to start fasting. In addition, he reminded us that fasting does not necessarily mean abstaining from meat on Fridays. Rather, it means giving up the things we do that displease God.

That reminded me of a text my mom had forwarded me on WhatsApp on the eve of Ash Wednesday: “Eat whatever you want for Easter, the sacrifice is not in the stomach, but in the heart. They refrain from eating meat, but don’t talk to their siblings or relatives, don’t visit their parents or bother them to attend to them. Don’t share food with the needy, forbid children to see their father, forbid grandparents to see their grandchildren, criticize other people’s lives, beat their wives, etc. A good barbecue or beef stew won’t make you a bad person, just like fish fillet won’t turn you a saint. Better seek to have a deeper relationship with God through better treatment of others. Let’s be less arrogant and more humble at heart”.

The message was alleged to be from the Holy Father. When I read it, my response to mom was, ‘I agree 100%’. I thought the Church was becoming progressive by focusing on the things that really matter. However, upon further research, I found out the message was fake; it was not from the Pope. At least not as written verbatim. The writer had tweaked a homily given by the Pope in 2015 during a morning Mass celebrated in the Chapel of the Domus Sanctae Marthae, as was pointed out by a Deacon.

That notwithstanding, there was some truth to that statement. The Pope, in a 2015 homily, had actually said something to that effect. Only difference is that the writer of that text paraphrased it, and ‘impersonated’ the Holy Father while he was still at it. The usurpation aside, I was in total agreement with the message. Reason being, some of us commit all sorts of wrongs, then (in the case of Catholics) just forego meat every Friday of the Lenten season. The mere thought defeats the whole essence of fasting.

In relation to that text, the Pope’s message was, “Real fasting isn’t just about restricting food choices. It must also include cleansing the heart of all selfishness and making room in one’s life for those in need and those who have sinned and need healing.

Faith without concrete acts of charity is not only hypocritical, it is dead. What good is it? Being generous towards the church but selfish and unjust toward others, is a very serious sin. It is using God to cover up injustice… Lent is not about the formal observance of ‘doing a little whatever’, and not eating meat Fridays while giving oneself free reign to grow in selfishness, exploit others and ignore the poor.

There might be someone who thinks, ‘Today is Friday, I can’t eat meat, but I’m going to have a nice plate of seafood, a real banquet’, which, while appearing to be an abstinence from meat, is the sin of gluttony. Another person might say, ‘I am a great Catholic Father, I like it a lot. I always go to Mass every Sunday. I receive Communion. My response to that would be, ‘Great, and how is your relationship with your workers? Do you pay them under the table? Do you give them a fair wage? Do you contribute toward their pension, to their health insurance and social services?

Some people may regularly make financial contributions to the church, but how generous are they toward their loved ones and their dependents? Are they generous and just to them too? People cannot make offerings to the church on the back of injustice.

… This is the distinction between formal and real, which Jesus underlined too, when He condemned the Pharisees and teachers of the law, who adhered to many external observances, but without the truth of the heart”.

The reason I agreed 100% with the shared text, was because over the years I have come to realize many people observe Church practices, but when scrutinized, it is very hypocritical of them. For instance, in my first semester in law school, I had a lecturer who walked around with a Pieta prayer book. In addition, he wore a crucifix on his neck. Consequently, the impression I had of him was that he was a deeply religious man. However, as weeks passed by, he turned out to be one of the worst sex pests I’ve encountered to date.

That had me thinking, as a Catholic he may be one of the religious faithful, who on the face of it, seem to adhere to Church rituals. However, the reality is, he’s not practicing his faith; and that right there, is what the Pope was criticizing. Question is, are we like my lecturer? A clear examination of conscience will help us make that deduction.

Who am I to judge? Part 1

Every time I keep thinking to myself, ‘It would be dreadfully boring if we were all alike’. Wouldn’t it? For instance, I’m an introvert dealing with an anxiety disorder. While we have our different ways of coping with anxiety generally, my mode of coping is anchored deeply in my Catholic faith. This stems from an expression I came across years ago, ‘Fear and faith are like two dogs fighting for dominance. Whichever you feed will become the dominant one’.

See, after a careful analysis of what triggers my anxiety, I realized mine is primarily an overwhelming fear of the unknown because I’m always dissecting and psychoanalyzing things, then consequently reaching scary conclusions. Therefore, after realizing I was making my own life miserable by worrying excessively, and unnecessarily at that, I chose to feed my faith.

I reckoned I wasn’t strong enough to deal with my anxiety on my own, but God was. In Philippians 4: 6-7 the Bible says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus”.

Why am I highlighting my struggle with anxiety in this post? The reason is this: anyone who knows me, knows I’m sort of a ‘stuck-up’ (albeit liberal); before I do something, I’ll take a moment to think what the Bible says about it. If it’s condemned, high chances are, I won’t do it. That therefore, limits my scope of activities. Personally, I think my social life is awfully boring. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone to be honest.

This then brings me back to my earlier sentiments about how boring life would be if we were all alike. In my case, my staunch faith would be mainly attributed to my overwhelming anxiety. I cannot sum up the number of times I have wondered whether I’d be a staunch believer, if I didn’t suffer from anxiety. Probably not.

In light of this, it’s imperative to understand that we all have reasons why we are the way we are. It would therefore be heartless, to impose our personal preferences on other people. Seeing as I’m Catholic for instance, I can’t walk around imposing Catholicism on others, because I have reasons why I chose to profess the Catholic faith, and not any other…

One of my most favourite animated series is ‘Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Catnoir’. In a nutshell, the animated series tells the story of two Parisian teenagers, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and Adrien Agreste, who with the help of ‘Kwamis’ (supernatural beings) wielded in magical jewels (Pair of earrings and a ring) known as ‘Miraculous’, transform into two superheroes, Ladybug and Catnoir respectively, to fight off supervillains.

In the series, the main supervillain is Adrien’s fashion designer father, Gabriel Agreste, who transforms into Hawk Moth (Subsequently known as Shadow Moth and Monarch in seasons 4 and 5 respectively as he becomes more powerful). His main super power is derived from a butterfly brooch, which empowers him to detect negative emotions around Paris.

In every episode, Hawk Moth creates supervillains by infusing (akumatizing) pure white butterflies with dark energy. These akumatized butterflies, then land on the people experiencing the negative emotion, transforming them into hypnotized villains (Controlled by Hawk Moth).

One of the supervillains is a young girl, Juleka, who is transformed into ‘Reflekta’. Her villainous power entails turning Parisians into mirror images of herself. When I watched that episode, the first thought that came into my mind was, ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

The same logic applies to us human beings: our different appearances, personalities, beliefs, principles, reasoning, talents, skills, etc., make living with each other fun. Imagine if we were all introverted like me… or if we were all Catholic… life would be boring for a fact.

Furthermore, as human beings we’re inherently flawed; therefore, one cannot assume their ways are fool proof. Case in point, is Catholicism generally; I do not agree with everything it espouses. That is why we cannot all be the same.

Consequently, being cognizant of the beauty in diversity, what we should do is appreciate each other, our differences and all… If our neighbours don’t subscribe to our beliefs, we should not try to impose our ways on them; for instance, last year, Pope Francis cautioned Christians against attempting to convert non-believers.

He regarded it as ‘proselytism’ (to try to persuade someone to change their religious or political beliefs or way of living to your own). If the Pope thought it was wise, he would have encouraged us to do it. Instead, he discouraged it, terming it a, “Pagan activity, unworthy of followers of Christ”.

To the people we think/feel are different from us, the Pope’s advice was/is to love them, so they might be happy children of God. Most importantly, let’s not judge them, because we too would not like to be judged. Besides, who are we to judge?

Of Men Carrying Donkeys: Part 2

It’s one thing to lack basic needs because a parent/guardian cannot afford them, but it’s another to want for something when the one who should be providing it is just dangling it in front of you, then telling you you can’t have it. That’s what dad did to us.

He’d say he has no money for food, then go out and get himself into a drunken stupor. If we’re asking for school fees and there’s no food (there never was food in the house), he’d make us choose between the two, because we couldn’t get both. Since school was sort of mandatory, we’d choose school fees, and that’s how we ended up hungry most of the time.

Now I know it’s not enough to be with someone who has money. If it’s not mine, there is no guarantee my children and I won’t suffer like mom, my sisters and I suffered while under dad’s care. I have never had this conversation with him, but in his meanness, dad shaped our mindset with regard to marriage and parenthood.

Listening to my distant grandfather’s sentiments, which were echoed by mom, had me thinking of an old folktale, ‘The miller, his son and the donkey’, which I read when I was a kid. In the story, the miller and his son were headed to the market to sell their donkey, while walking beside the donkey. Along the way they came across girls, who jeered them for not riding on the donkey. So the miller had his son ride the donkey.

Then they met some men, who had qualms with the son riding the donkey instead of the dad, who in their opinion was the elder. The miller, agreeing with them, asked the son to get down from the donkey and he got on it. Like before, the two met a group of women and children, who thought it was heartless of the father to be on the donkey while his poor son walked. Again, agreeing with them, he asked his son to get on the donkey and they both rode him.

Nonetheless, they had not gone far when they met another group of people, who accused them of being heartless for riding an old donkey, when they should be the ones carrying him. The miller and his son tied up the donkey with ropes and carried him… but that was until they reached at the entrance of the fair and saw many people laughing and pointing at them for carrying a donkey.

The donkey, freaked out by the laughter, wiggled out of the miller and his son’s grip, falling to his death. The miller was devastated. He had tried to please everyone but, in the end, he had lost his donkey.

That, I reckon, is what happens when we let other people influence the decisions we make. The truth is, everyone will have an opinion of us, and if given a chance they would all want us to live by those opinions. However, it is impossible to please everyone. We lose so much (ourselves) when we attempt to please others.

In my case for instance, getting married, or bearing children when I’m not prepared for it could have dire consequences. Aside from the psychological trauma of getting babies I’m not yet ready to raise, there are other legal challenges. For instance, if I got a child with some random guy like my distant grandfather seemed to suggest, I could end up in a situation where the baby’s father ends up seeking sole custody because I’m not financially capable of raising my own child. I have handled such cases, and God-forbid, if I let myself go through that.

Conversely, there’s the other instance of me spending all my time and resources along court corridors, seeking child maintenance from the baby’s father because he bailed on us. These are challenges I’ve helped some clients navigate, so I’ve witnessed them first-hand.

While I’m cognisant of the fact that being married and/or being financially independent is not a guaranteed solution to the aforementioned issues, because people break up and lose their source of income, my personal experiences have taught me that the least I can do is try; try to be financially independent.

I know I cannot shield myself from life’s happenings, but at the very least, I can try to give my children better. Therefore, until I get to that point where I feel prepared, I’m still not ready to be a mother. Do I want kids? So much! But I’m I ready for them? Not yet!

When mom told me and my sisters what dad’s uncle had said about us getting children because our biological clocks are apparently ticking (as if we’re not already painfully aware of that), I refused to oblige. Politely, I made reference to the abovementioned story, then told her I wasn’t going to carry a donkey, because that’s what it felt like. No one should be coerced, or unduly influenced into making major life choices they are not ready for.

Of Men Carrying Donkeys: Part 1

D’you ever feel like everyone has an opinion on how you should be living your life? This is the conundrum I find myself afflicted with an awful lot nowadays. Reason being, I am yet to settle down in marital ‘bliss’. In addition, I have not granted my mom the deeply longed for opportunity to be a doting granma. In short, it’s all premised on my love life, which I have in several posts, alluded to being non-existent.

A fortnight ago, my family and I travelled upcountry to lay my aunt to rest. Interestingly (sadly) is, while my sisters and I were awash with the overwhelming grief of losing a close relative, someone else was busy minding our business, which at the time was in my humble opinion, ill-advised.

A distant grandfather (my dad’s uncle), and I’m using the word ‘distant’ deliberately because we have no personal connection with him, called my parents a few minutes after laying my aunt to rest. I’m not sure whether he condoled with them for the loss, but the one thing I’m certain about (because my mom told my sisters and I), is that he reprimanded my father for having daughters who haven’t bore him grandchildren yet.

He even went ahead to suggest my sisters and I should just get knocked up by some random men, just so… That would just be a means to an end, because according to him, marriage is immaterial. Need I say, his sentiments grated on me? Even worse, was the fact that it is my mom who relayed that information, especially seeing as she seems to be of the same opinion.

I do not mind the fact that they seem fixated on the thought of my sisters and I procreating; as my elders, it is well within their right to wish for it. Nonetheless, what I find particularly infuriating, is the thought that they have not spared a moment to mull over the reasons we are not parents yet.

For starters, growing up, my mom filled our infantile minds with chilling stories about young girls who got pregnant out of wedlock. While it was her way of ensuring we did not get knocked up while still in school, the stories created quite an impression on us, because to date, my big sister still quotes them verbatim when my mom brings that uncomfortable conversation up.

My dad on the other hand, threatened to cut us off (financially), if we ever got pregnant. In my previous posts I’ve mentioned severally how he was always waiting for us to mess so he could get a ‘valid’ excuse to stop providing for us. By his own admission, he was not prepared to have us, and consequently, he’s made us feel his reluctance to be a dad all our lives.

He deprived us off of needs so dire, such as food, and when we were in school we had to beg him to pay our school fees. Opening days were a nightmare! As if that wasn’t bad enough, before he bought the house, when we were still leasing, he was always threatening to stop paying rent, so we could get evicted and end up on the streets homeless. I think it was his insensitive way of exerting his dominance on us, but what he did not realize was that the psychological torture he inflicted on us would haunt us for years.

Personally, that fear is one of the primary reasons I’ve grown up avoiding romantic relationships. At the back of my mind, I had the niggling thought that if I got into a relationship, there was always a chance I could end up with child, and that was not an option. Therefore, abstinence became my best friend. It was the only way I could protect myself from unwanted pregnancies.

Furthermore, the life my dad subjected us to when we were growing up, made me fear marriage. I’ve grown up thinking of it as a prison, and this fear has been exacerbated by the fact that the Catholic church does not acknowledge civil divorce.

Worse still, dad always warned me and my sisters that once we got married, we would not be allowed to go back home. The implication of that was that if our marriages did not work out (God-forbid), he wouldn’t take us back. Ergo, we only had one chance to get it right.

Moreover, I cannot imagine putting an innocent child through the same miserable life I’ve lived. I’ve grown up being financially dependent on a stingy, manipulative and an emotionally-absent father. As a result, the major lesson I’ve drawn from all that is to be independent; to never rely on someone so extensively, if I can help it.

Where I’m at, I don’t have the peace of mind to rely on someone else for sustenance. Dad took that from me. I do not want to relive my mom’s life, and I do not want my children to relive my life. That is why I am not married, and I do not have kids.

Like I’ve mentioned in several posts previously, I cannot sum up the number of times my sisters and I slept hungry; not because there was no money, but because our sole provider (dad), was too tight-fisted to buy us food. He’d come home drunk and full, while we cried ourselves to sleep because we were too hungry to fall asleep.

Of Holidays and Perceptions: Part 2

Interestingly, even on days when we had food, the company felt lacking. Sometimes we’d be in the company of our extended paternal relatives, who in their own way, have always made us feel like we did not belong (because we were not rich enough); and that would make us miserable.

Then on some Christmases we had food, but it was just our basic family, dad, mom and sisters. Again, the desire to merry-make would make our celebration feel like something integral was lacking, because we did not have people to celebrate with. The underlying issue in such instances was, whilst we had food, it was little. That had us refraining from inviting guests over, lest we ended up embarrassing ourselves.

Therefore, owing to the aforementioned glitches, I stopped attaching so much importance to these material things. Nowadays I try to remind myself that Christmas is more of a spiritual celebration, taking into consideration the significance of the birth of Christ in my life as a Christian. Whether I have good food, or new clothes is immaterial. Hard as it is, I try to be grateful for the little I have.

This Christmas for instance, has been significantly different from the previous ones, and not in a good way. One week before Christmas, my aunt, who’d been sick for a while, passed on. Need I say? This holiday season has been anything but Christmassy.

All of it has been spent grieving her loss. Even on Christmas day, while my family and I were encouraging ourselves to spare a moment to acknowledge Christ’s birth, it was very conflicting because there was the hovering grief that was impossible to ignore. Nonetheless, when we got round to it, my family and I actually had a splendid Christmas day. It was nowhere near perfect, but all factors considered, it was good.

Ironically, this year I’ve revamped my wardrobe, so I had a couple of new stuff I could wear on Christmas day, but I chose not to. The food on the other hand, delicious as it was, was just basic; and as for company, it was just my dad, mom and sisters. So there was nothing fancy about the celebration.

With regard to decorations, we put them up a few hours to midnight on Christmas Eve; and as for Christmas carols generally, I don’t recall listening to them. Truth is, it would have been easy to consider this a ‘missed’ Christmas, were it not for the ‘glass-half-full’ mentality. Like I said at the beginning of this post, whether we enjoy the Holidays or not, is in my thinking, a matter of perception.

Just like how my first Christmas without a new dress years ago taught me to see beyond the material stuff that prevented me from enjoying Christmas, this Christmas has taught me to appreciate life, in all its simplicity. I’ve always been complaining about how my Christmas ‘wasn’t good enough’, but my aunt’s passing has helped me realize what’s really important; being alive. If you’re still breathing, the rest is just a matter of perception.

She was a fun-loving person, but now she’s no more. When I think of that, I feel all the things I’ve attached to my ‘perfect’ Christmas all these years were just non-issues. The holidays, in my humble opinion, are what we make them. If we manifest happiness, we’ll be able to see past the shortcomings that make our holidays feel less than perfect.

As it is, that’s the thing with life as well; things may not always go as intended, but we wield the power of perception. We choose how we perceive them.

Now that we’re about to bid 2023 goodbye, I wish you all a blessed and reflective close of the year. May 2024 be full of God’s abundant favour.

Of Holidays and Perceptions: Part 1

This year is just hours away from ending. Ordinarily, this is that time when most of us reflect on the days gone, in an attempt to analyse the ‘hits and misses’; the gains made… where we erred…  

As I’m gradually learning, life can be awfully stressful, but one thing that mitigates the stress, is our own perception; our appreciation of the small, seemingly insignificant things. For instance, to most people, Christmas, and the Holidays generally, entail indulging in sumptuous meals with family and friends, opening gifts, and for others, travelling the world; wherever one’s heart desires.

Based on the last couple of Christmases, I’m in a place where I feel like I’m yet to have my best Christmas. While I’m fully cognizant of the fact that from a Christian perspective Christmas is more than merrymaking, experience has taught me that the best Christmases are those spent with other people (read close family and friends), and with ‘good’ food. The word ‘good’ is relative, because what I consider good food might be considered prosaic by another.

Here’s the thing though, growing up, my mom put so much emphasis (in a good way) on Christmas. She bought my sisters and I new clothes, put up Christmas decorations, took us for Christmas morning mass, prepared amazing food, and we would have so much fun filling our tiny stomachs with the delicious food. She did everything in her power to make the holidays feel merry.

However, as we grew up, money became scarce (for mom) and it just so happened that we could no longer afford everything that made our Christmases feel like Christmas. I remember the first Christmas that we did not get new clothes. My sisters and I felt so down, that we did not go to church. How would we mingle with other children in church, when they had new clothes to show around, when we had nothing?

To make matters worse, our cousins, out of curiosity, brought us an old (recycled) Christmas card, just so they could see whether we’d gotten new clothes. We were never close with them really, and our relationship always felt like it was premised on some tacit competition. It was one of those petty, unhealthy competitions started by parents, that kids pick up as they grow. I think at the time I had just turned thirteen, seeing I celebrate my birthday a fortnight before Christmas, and I remember feeling extremely downcast.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, that would be the Christmas that would set the cue for almost all the others after it. As fate would have it, new Christmas dresses became a thing of the past for my sisters and I. It’s only recently that my big sister, who’s into fashion designing, has been trying to resuscitate the old tradition by practising her talents on us; she’s been stitching us some pretty dresses for special occasions, including Christmas.

Interestingly, because of how we stopped getting new dresses for Christmas when we were kids, I stopped considering them a prerequisite to enjoying Christmas. In addition, other things we thought were mandatory for us to enjoy the holidays became scarce as well. For instance, there have been Christmases where my family and I (mom and sisters) could not afford a decent meal on Christmas. That on its own, makes Christmas feel worse than a normal day, because there is that expectation there will be some form of celebration, however small.

Dad’s usually had money, but I’ve known him to be stingy pretty much all my life. Furthermore, I think on most days he gets a kick from seeing us miserable. Ergo, in his typical grinch fashion, he deliberately tries to sabotage our Christmases.

Catholic Priests Should Marry: Part 7

How many good priests have to be disgraced before the church finally admits this mandatory rule of celibacy is untenable? There are children out there who cannot publicly acknowledge their fathers, because they are Catholic priests. I went to school with a girl who could not admit a renowned priest was her father. I’d say this is tantamount to emotional and psychological torture of all parties concerned.

Like I mentioned in the previous posts, I was not always for the idea of priests marrying until I met a guy, who helped me understand the struggles priests go through. For purposes of this post, I’ll call him Ned.

I met Ned the first day I joined law school, and we clicked instantly, because he was very lively. Seeing as I’m naturally introverted, he approached me first, said hi, and as we got acquainted with each other, he told me he was visiting his brother, who was a priest. The first thing I noted, was that he’d had a little to drink before class, seeing as he had that distinct alcohol breath.

Given my dad’s love for the bottle, I have issues with people showing up drunk, or with alcohol breath to places where imbibing is not permitted, such as school, work, etc. Owing to that, I did not take him seriously. Over the weeks though, we became friends, and he’d invite me over to his place.

Again, owing to my introversion, I rarely visit people’s houses. I find it easier to invite someone over instead, and for me to get to that level (rarely do), I have to be very tight with someone. Therefore, I did not go to his place. Besides, he’d already told me he was staying with his brother, so that meant he was staying in a priest’s house; and, I’d already sworn myself off priests’ houses after the unfortunate incident with our family friend, as detailed in Parts 1 and 2 of this post.

Undeterred by my refusal, Ned would always ask me out whenever the opportunity presented itself; and my answer remained the same. I admired his determination, but deep down I knew school was my first priority, so relationships would have to wait. That notwithstanding, we became very close friends.

I remember this one evening we were leaving school, and as he walked me to the bus stop, we held hands. His hand stiffened, and I could feel his discomfort as we walked, so I let go. I wondered why he’d have a problem holding hands, yet he’d been hitting on me the entire time. I did not ask him about it. Figured he wasn’t big on public displays of affection; and I respected that.

Halfway into the semester, our mutual friend, who was a close friend of mine, hit me with the shock-of-the-year bombshell one Saturday. “Guess what I found out?” She asked. I could see the excitement in her eyes; but I could not possibly start guessing why she was that excited, so much as I like guessing in order to make the reveal fun, I told her to tell me. “Ned’s a priest!” She blurted out impatiently.

I stopped to look at her, with excitement, and disbelief written on my face. “He’s a what now?” I asked again, just to be sure I’d not heard my own things.

“Ned’s a priest”, she repeated. She went on to explain how she had found that out over the weekend. Since she had found out accidentally, we agreed we wouldn’t ask him about it, until he was ready to tell us. As fate would have it, that moment never came, until after we’d finished and graduated from law school. All through, we continued being close friends, with him inviting me to his house, and me refusing as always, especially now that I was privy to his secret. I think everyone else in our class knew, but somehow, he assumed I didn’t know.

If anyone dared to refer to him as a priest in my presence, he’d cut them off very fast before any irreparable damage was caused. I always got the urge to ask him about it, but I’d keep reminding myself to respect his decision not to tell me. Figured he’d tell me when he was ready.

Sometimes, I’d playfully ask whether he was married, and looking all serious, he’d tell me he wasn’t. When I asked why, he’d tell me he’d tell me why someday. I respected that. He’d openly flirt, and I’d just let him, because deep down I knew we couldn’t be more than friends.

I’d told him that more than enough times so I did not want him to feel rejected; and worse still, I couldn’t tell him why. Thankfully, even with me turning him down constantly, that never affected our friendship. Whenever he called, he’d be like, “How are you my girlfriend?”

On our graduation day, I invited him to come meet my family because I’d told them about him; but he said his sister had fallen ill, so he had to rush her to hospital. My mom knew him because he’d served in her home parish at some point years before; however, he did not know that.

Catholic Priests Should Marry: Part 6

Before I decided to share these posts about my very humble opinion that Catholic priests should marry, I was struggling with two issues: one, the aptness of indulging readers in a conversation that many deem controversial; and two, revealing ills committed by priests, in a bid to explain the basis of my controversial opinion (yet I was socialized to believe someone should not talk about priests, no matter how grave their offences are).

However, a recent occurrence had me thinking, one can only ignore a problem for too long; burying our heads in the sand only gives the issue time to simmer, and with time, everything will just blow up. See, a diligent priest I knew died under very mysterious circumstances. However, what was undisputed, was that he died while in the company of his girlfriend. Emphasis on ‘girlfriend’, because that is what the authorities reported. Honestly, when I heard the sad and very shocking news, I shed tears for the man I held in very high esteem.

As explained in the previous posts, nowadays I interact with priests on a general level, for fear that the more I get to know them, the more I’ll find myself questioning their integrity; and subsequently how that is eroding my confidence in the clergy, and, the church.

Owing to this, I did not know the said priest personally. I’d only ever talked to him once outside the church before mass a couple of years ago, and only because I had to. He seemed friendly, but on closer scrutiny, I got the impression he was somewhat strict. Given my very limited interaction with him, I could only judge him based on his scorecard as a priest. He was, in my estimation, a very competent one.

In light of this, when I heard how he died, I imagined people would focus on the ‘shameful’ way he died, instead of focusing on the amazing feats he had attained as a priest. Furthermore, those who did not know him would condemn him, simply because he was with a woman. That small error (in the eyes of men) would obliterate all his previous achievements.

I pray God will forgive him for his weaknesses, because only He, knows us, and what pushes us to act the way we do. I knew I could not judge, because as I mentioned in the previous post, being a priest does not shield someone from human weaknesses; in any case, the religious vows put someone under pressure to be holy… not to mention, most people expect them to be perfect. I chose to focus on the good work he did, and not on this small blot, on his otherwise clean sheet.

That had me wondering, if breaking the (almost unattainable) vow of celibacy is what caused him so much disgrace in death, why couldn’t it be abolished? Being with a woman in itself didn’t have to be disgraceful, seeing as the woman in question was single, and she had seemingly consented to the relationship.

Thinking about it, I know it would affect other areas of the church; however, in my humble opinion this would be totally worth it, because it would free the clergy from the chokehold of a vow they have trouble fulfilling, and which to a large extent, has been used by the rest of the world as a yardstick to assess their performance as men of God.