What if it were you?

About 7.58am, on Wednesday, the 20th day of this month, head of department, Public Administration, Akwa Ibom State University, Dr. Imoh Imoh-Ita, and I had just rounded off our ritualistic morning sport. We were catching our breath, standing by his car outside The Headquarters in the heart of Ewet Housing, Akwa Ibom state’s premier estate. The man I call Double Prof (he holds two doctorate degrees) was sharing his vision for Walk-Run Uyo, his mass fitness exercise brainchild scheduled for next Saturday. Double Prof has an uncanny passion for keeping fit such that even his varsity students know him more for the sport than for his equally wolfish academic appetite.

Unfortunately for some lazy-head friends of his (fortunately, I am not mentioning names), Dr. Imoh-Ita’s uncanny humanity and humility and knack and panache and persona combine to make his physical fitness-mania both attractive and addictive. He has more and more converts lining up, daily. Many more tell remarkable stories of recovery from chronic ailments that had hitherto defied medicine. What exercise cannot do does not exist, right?

Right, and you know, Double Prof is a study in consistency and in daredevilry and in persistency. For crying out loud, the man is 51, a father of three and a spinal cord surgery survivor. Pulling the kind of acrobatic and aerobic stunts that he does day in day out means you and I have no excuse to not perform regular body exercise. Exercise, good exercise, is talismanic natural medicine.

Please, digress with me back to the substoryline. As Double Prof and I mulled over how best to deliver the first-ever edition of Walk-Run Uyo, I sighted a mentally challenged guy who should be in his 30s or so. Being someone I know and who knows me (he knocks at my gate many times for you-know-what) I immediately told myself he would stop over as usual. But, of course.

The guy wanted me to give him money to eat. He never requests anything else. However, this time he added a caveat. That, he hopes I know this is Christmas and, therefore, should not “give me the N1,000 you always do.”

Stop laughing, I didn’t laugh; I could not have. Also, there was no need to be angry. We waste emotions too much in this country. Emotional intelligence is about showing age and empathy and class and humanity and sympathy, per time.

Double Prof, ever sensitive and smart (knowing I may have nothing on me, as we had been out on morning workout) dashed to his car to get cash for the Christmas tax collector. I called out that he should please make it N2,000. Alas, the guy retorted that I should make it three. Sensing he was going to get into an argument over it, I wasted no time to link him up with Unyime, one of my aides, to ensure that N3,000 be given to him on Christmas Day (he came for it two days to).

Yet, the matter did not end there. What some informal tax collectors cannot do does not exist. Guaranteed N3,000 on Christmas Day, the guy graduated next to demand that he be given food as well on that day. I told Unyime to tell chef to make that happen.

Instanta, the guy demanded the food be served him in a flask. I began to wonder whether Uruan people had sent the guy to me that early morning. Then he immediately corrected himself. He wanted “the food in takeaway packs.”

Not one pack o. After he had accomplished what was clearly his mission, the guy walked away waving his 2k trophy until he disappeared from our view. From then on, he became the topic of discussion. Double Prof and I hoped and prayed the guy doesn’t use the money on hard drugs as most others are said to.

We agreed though that even if he does we had done our bit. Thereafter, I raised the point of order that man ought permanently to be thankful. Any of us could have been that guy. Yes, the guy could have been any of us.

What bad thing did he do that we haven’t done, aren’t doing or won’t do? Some of us have done far worse; even worst things. Many of us should be dead because of the quantum of evil we have performed with our hands and heart and mouth. But we are busy judging others, even punishing them when indeed they are better and cleaner and saner than us.

Is God not good? What God cannot do does not not exist. God cannot kill. God cannot make mad.

God cannot answer idiots. God cannot get angry. God cannot punish hypocrites. Above all, God cannot not be God.

Now, to the present. When someone brings you tales to tarnish the image of another, do you first put yourself in their shoes? Or, being alpha and omega, you straight up kill and bury such a one. What if it was you, would you like being killed and buried like that?

When someone, a known blackmailer, a serial manipulator, cries wolf because one of his victims who could take it no more hits back below the belt and you are the judge. What do you do? Do you flip back the pages to point out the many infractions or do you allow manipulation to thrive by ruling against the courageous victim? What if you were the victim, would you have been comfortable with the evil judgment?

When an enemy or stranger is in dire need and comes to you. Do you focus on the enmity or on their strangeness or on why such needs or on how you must help out? And do you boast about it or poke fun at them in the intervening days, weeks, months and years? What if you were the enemy or stranger, would you have tolerated the status shaming?

When someone confides in you on anything, are you mature enough to guide and guard them and keep your mouth shut during and thereafter and forever? Or, you table them before family and friends how they are no longer loyal; gloating over how God is dealing with them. If you are a disloyal ingrate yourself, would you cherish being so humiliated?

When someone falls short and you are in a position to cover their nakedness, how exactly do you answer such divine call? You dilly-dally for them to beg and beg and beg, taunting them to no end or you do it for a price? Do you threaten to expose them, thereafter? What if it was you, would you find it funny?

There are many other ad hoc circumstances and situations. Go on and create or recall yours. Ensure though, the central question remains: what if it were you or what if it was you. You may even enlarge the frame of reference.

What if this? What if that? What if your family were involved? Would you be happy your parents or siblings or spouse or children or children’s children suffered what you put others through and above all, would they (your very own) be publicly proud of what you have done?

Golden rule is the hallmark of a life worth living. Everything else is nonsense. Everything else is sinking sand. It neither holds nor sustains the centre!

By the way, it is inferiority complex to kiss and tell: sorry, to help and then gloat. You are a small person as well as a shame to God and man when you evince superiority complex tendencies especially over someone who is at your mercy. God never proves a point to Satan, the same way it’s a waste of precious time and resources for you to preach to the choir. The person who is on top is on top, the person who is under is under; everyone knows!

Henceforward, whatever you wish to do or say: first ask yourself if you would have accepted or appreciated it. Then, go ahead or stop: depending. Life is simple: like that. Stop complicating it and stop acting as if you own it: because you don’t and never shall.

The Owner shouldn’t be shaking His head watching as you misuse or abuse the privileges that life offers. Dear man, be simple and fair all the days of your life. That’s all there’s to life. Any other approach is shameful and ungodly and wasteful.

Put yourself or your family in the place of someone you are planning to show pepper, as we say in Nigeria. Would your family or you have loved the pepper? If no, please desist; instead, go on your knees and get born again again. Thereafter, fast and pray, and go and sin no more -but, seriously.

God bless Nigeria, and from all of us in The BUSH Clan: a smashing 2023rd Christmas!

Next Monday: The 2024 I see