Suicide When Academia Forgets Its Humanity

A Life Lost to Bureaucracy

I just read of a young medical student at the University of Birmingham who took his own life after failing a resit examination. By email, he was advised that he would have to exit the course.

What seemed like a simple administrative activity delivered by email by the University of Birmingham was, in fact, the end of the road for this young soul. He saw no other options left.

The Failure of Pastoral Care

It could not have been too difficult to invite this young man into a student affairs office or a dean's office to ascertain why he struggled to pass one resit examination when his other results met the mark.

Having invested life and purpose in a medical degree programme, surely, despite whatever rules were in place, no one, especially in an academic environment, should be oblivious to the considerable mental strain of effort not being rewarded with some recognition.

As per the narrative in the news, on that alone, I would suggest the University of Birmingham has been remiss in a core responsibility for student welfare that is quite unforgivable.

The Whisper of Despair

Then, whilst I cannot ascertain the facts of what the triggers for suicide and death by misadventure could be, I know there are times I have harboured suicidal thoughts.

I lived on the seventh floor in a swanky apartment in Amsterdam. As the long tail of cancer wagged ferociously with the loss of health, status, means and wherewithal, from the full-length windows in my living room, a voice whispered: Jump!

It could have ended things suddenly, without having to live through further adversity and privation that has become part of my story. My hesitation came from the desire to tell a better story.

When Platitudes Become Cruelty

In the comments that followed the sad news, there were many statements in the theme of, "Suicide is not the answer."

Reading all that left me quite incensed, and hence this blog, because that only works when counselling those exhibiting suicide ideation. It is unfeelingly cold and wicked to suggest that after the suicide has been committed.

My prayer is that those who appear to have the answer are not met with such overwhelming circumstances that no other option is presented in their predicament except for suicide.

The Fragility of Humanity

The fragility of our humanity is sometimes not understood without a personal encounter of indeterminable consequence. Even my two encounters with life-threatening cancer do not furnish me with the audacity to question the mental state of another when met with a wall of adversity that presents no hope or respite.

In many cases, people do need a different kind of confidante, before whom no wrong would be imputed against them. They are the warm embrace of succour and comfort, shining light into the darkness to see a path in life even when failure has snatched a prospect from reach.

A Lost Opportunity

I recall a saying that has stood with me from an uncle, way back in 1980, he said, "An opportunity once lost can be regained after a temporary setback."

I'm saddened the young man saw no further opportunities. May Phil Moyo's soul rest in peace, and his family and friends be comforted by the fond memories of his remarkable life.

A Google NotebookLM AI Audio Overview Discussion of this blog

Thought Picnic: Adversity Reveals True Love

Finding Clarity

I have just stepped out of the shower to warm up because I was out in the cold for an extended period. My moments in the shower can be thoughtful and meditative; the washing of water seems to include an invisible internal cleansing of the mind, allowing clarity to emerge.

On the last day of my 59th year, it has been slow and perhaps somewhat lazy. Though I intended to do certain things, I was caught between youthful rampage and ageing progress; my voice reduced once again to a slur, revealing fatigue and lethargy, yet my mind was in overdrive.

Reflecting on this year, I decided to focus firstly on caring for myself, leaving behind situations and complications that caused unnecessary anxiety and stress. This was especially true in my different relationships and the communities to which I belong.

When Family Comes Last

Regrettably, family was last, with respect to friends, church, support groups, and work. In all those areas, I still maintain some influence and respect. I can offer advice and anticipate a degree of consideration, even if my nuggets of wisdom were not always valued.

With family, I had become like a clashing cymbal. I am contacted for a viewpoint, but they have already made up their minds. It was as if my perspective no longer mattered, and this was inadvertently displayed through many significant situations within the extended family network.

I had to decide that there was no point in being the dog barking in the dark. I will not become like Ahithophel; it’s not the end of my world or the world itself.

Having faced two bouts of cancer, I see similarities between the support I received then and now. Apart from my other sibling abroad, there was none. My transactional credit waned during periods of adversity and ill health; now, it counted for little beyond platitudes. The mere fulfilment of all righteousness could not be achieved through a cursory glance.

Adversity Reveals True Love

It brought to mind a song by Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey from the 1960s, “Ọ̀rọ̀ ṣeni wò, kálè mẹni tó fẹ́ ni.” This translates to, “May a momentary adversity reveal those who truly love us.” Perhaps I am truly loved, but love must be active, tangible, experiential, and felt. Somewhere along the line, that familial connection was lost in its journey to me.

My focus on other relationships became a source of strength: the unconditional love of Brian, the prayers and counsel of my best friends, my neighbours, and at church where everyone was concerned about my wellbeing, and at work, where professional support systems and the understanding of many who have been touched by cancer in their own families meant they appreciated some of what I had gone through.

Peace in Letting Go

Then I no longer need to hold anyone to account. They have their own lives to attend to, and the deliberations leading up to any decisions made contrary to other counsel are their prerogative, over which I should not arrogate the power to control. It is essentially none of my business.

However, the radio silence I have self-imposed since August has been a source of peace and rest, whilst I devote my energies to regaining full strength and vigour.

I keep all of them in my prayers, supplicating for their wellbeing, health, prosperity, and peace. May the goodness, peace, and blessings of the Lord continue to abound in grace and mercy with lovingkindness towards us all. We are signing out of 59 at midnight, by the grace of God.

Radio silence as good therapy

The Value of Relationships

The past two years, with all their trials, have offered a profound lesson in the importance of relationships; those that endure and those that falter. Relationships exist along a spectrum, from those that nurture our innermost selves to those that deplete us.

Against this backdrop, I have begun to treasure those rare connections where vulnerability is met with empathy, and where the bond transcends circumstance or convenience.

At the other end of the spectrum are exploitative and self-serving relationships, built purely on transaction. They thrive when needs are met but diminish rapidly when expectations go unmet, leaving little room for understanding or compassion.

No showing they care

Sadly, I find few examples of truly healthy family relationships. Expressions of care are often superficial, their evidence weak or absent. That realisation has prompted a deliberate withdrawal, a choice to preserve space for safety, clarity, and renewal.

As September unfolded, following months of chaos and emotional upheaval, I decided to impose complete radio silence on all communication from Nigeria. Messages remained unread, calls unanswered, and I extricated myself from group chats.

While part of me was unsettled by the choice, another part found unexpected peace in it. After thirty-five years away, much of what happens there no longer requires my attention. Most interactions involve people I have never met and could hardly recognise in passing.

Distance became both shield and salve. It allowed me to detach from the drama, rumours, and constant reinterpretations of events that once held power over my emotions. Too often, such narratives are presented as truth yet serve only to unsettle, casting doubt on where fiction ends and reality begins.

Nurture the profitable

This uncertainty highlights the fragile nature of some relationships, as they exhibit little evidence of trust or goodwill, with corrosive elements overshadowing any kind of beneficial aspects.

By carrying this silence into October, I found calm. The reward was a steady quiet, being neither perturbed nor disturbed. It allowed me to engage, when necessary, on my own terms, or more often, to refrain from engaging altogether.

We should constantly review the quality and viability of our relationships, regardless of what has hitherto made them significant, for they might have fallen into disrepair and become unprofitable.

If I sustain this until year's end, keeping close those who truly matter whilst maintaining distance from those absent in my darker hours, I believe I will emerge stronger and healthier. That, at least, is my conviction.

Desert Island Discs: Beyond losing everything

Beyond What You’ve Heard

My journey through the past episodes of Desert Island Discs on BBC Radio 4 continues, and I am just into December 2013. I once took notes on the music and choices made by people who have left footprints in the sands of time. Even some guests who appeared up to two decades ago are now centenarians; I guess I just keep looking up the people and their stories.

“Now whenever I finish something I take some photographs and say 'goodbye'. When you lose everything, you realise that the only thing you have is what's in your head.” Barbara Hulanicki

She is known for being the co-founder of the London fashion store Biba in the 1960s. A bit of trivia: Anna Wintour became an employee of Biba at the age of 15. However, the latter part of the quote resonated with me.

Amazing Spirit Power

When I lost everything, I had more than just what was in my head in terms of knowledge and experience; I had memories, but most of all, I had hope.

Hope, however, may not be sustainable when it is just in the head, a part of your mind and emotions. I believe, as a matter of faith, that I am sustained by my spirit, and that hope is enlivened by the spirit, giving life to the things you imagine.

The spirit of a man sustains him in sickness, but as for a broken spirit, who can bear it? [Bible Hub: Proverbs 18:14 (Amplified)]

I have encountered much adversity, illness, and misfortune that ordinarily I could never have endured, let alone survived. My spirit, however, like a dynamo, keeps going, giving strength to my soul and body.

That is the story I get to tell. Losing everything is not the end of living; rather, from the inner reaches of your spirit, you find the seeds of new growth: the hope and imagination that create the experience of a new life, purpose, and reasons to be thankful and full of gratitude for the gift of life and the people you get to share it with.

Childhood: Concerns, memories, and traumas

Classic inadvertent abandonment

I happened upon a Facebook status at the end of last year, where there was a discussion about some parents sending their foreign-born kids back to Nigeria to apparently teach the kids discipline and resilience along with avoiding any possibility of their kids being dragged into inner city issues like drugs, gangs, and crime.

After reading some of the comments and one especially of a parent who had successfully reared kids in America and could not countenance the idea of sending their children into the care of strangers, be they relations, paid guardians, or strict/conservative boarding schools, I offered a perspective of my own experience.

The lifelong consequence

Imagine being sent from a private primary school environment with a majority international pupillage in Kaduna to a boarding school in Sagamu, Ogun State, at the age of ten. It could have been worse as I had admissions to even more remote places.

The lasting effects of that experience apart from feeling abandoned even if it helped make me both independent and resilient, not that it was unachievable at home, but my parents knew best.

As a child, I was quite outgoing, precocious, and inquisitive, with independent views. I have decidedly refused to associate with old student activities at my secondary school, nor do I retain any enduring friendships from that time. The scars are lifelong.

A rash of parental control

I suffered serious child psychological issues just months before I was shipped off and then in the first term at boarding school, that my parents' closest friends pled with them to bring me back home, those appeals fell on deaf ears, as if they had not learnt from the experiences of being placed with foster parents in England, one of such even starved me, much of that, I have blanked out of my mind.

These seemingly benign parental decisions still affect my relationship with them, and they are both octogenarians. There might be an immediate benefit to fostering your children out to strict environments, but the long-term break in the familial bonds would scarcely ever be repaired.

While there are parents who still think the boarding school experience is a rite of passage that is wholesome and germane to child development, if I was blessed with offspring, I would have totally negated some of decisions taken as part of my upbringing. I know many parents of my generation did not repeat that vicious cycle.

I speak as someone who will be fifty-nine in less than a week. I charted my own course and chose what was good for me in the scheme of things. Some memories are best left unrecalled. [This was drafted before my birthday in December 2024.]

Companions in travel

Assistance is quite helpful

Those chance encounters with strangers and their stories. Too often we see people on the surface, with no inkling of who they are. Dare we strike up a conversation with them that leads to deep discoveries of similarities and differences between us?

For instance, I used customer assistance services for my trip to Cape Town. Someone to cater for getting me from the check-in counter to the aircraft and back through customs to the arrival terminal by wheelchair or a motorised buggy.

In Manchester, after the security check, I was left in a waiting area until my gate was shown. Soon, an elderly couple arrived, the husband needing a bit more help than his wife. She was amiable and friendly as he made for the gents.

Everyday interesting people

They had lived in Africa for more than 40 years, mainly in Namibia where he was an engineer, and she was in community development. They were going to Cape Town via Doha, arriving in Cape Town about 4 hours before I do.

As the conversation shifted to why we needed assistance, their son had made all the travel arrangements ensuring both his parents had the assisted service. Two years before she had open heart surgery and was put back together with 4 staples and glue.

She volunteered he had a non-cancerous enlarged prostate along with mobility issues and the onset of dementia. They were looking forward to their holidays, full of life and happiness. As we parted ways when I was picked up for the departure gate, we wistfully thought this might not be our last encounter.

I saw them later as they were being taken to their flight and we waved to each other. It might be a concert or wine estate where we'll drink a toast to good health.

The choices we make

Then sat beside me on my flight to Cape Town, I spoke to a lady, resident in Belgium but returning to South Africa to see her family. Alluding to my just completing treatment for cancer, she said she was going for surgery in a few weeks.

You would never have thought, but behind every facade is a world of stories with a touch of humanity. I used my experience to encourage her. She had made treatment choices to protect her quality of life. Every motivation is valid. I elected for radiotherapy over surgery to preserve urinary and sexual function.

With cancer, it is important to have all the useful information to make informed choices. The more pertinent thing: regardless of what people suffer, they go out and live their lives to the fullest.

Thought Picnic: Resilience in adversity

Rich in experiences

As I stood outside my apartment a few weeks ago waiting to be given a lift to one of my radiotherapy sessions, a man I did not immediately recognise approached me and introduced himself as one of the estate agents who used to manage my property. He asked how I was, and a short conversation ensued.

I informed him as my voice was weak that I was taking treatment for prostate cancer, and he must have wondered how much misfortune can befall a man? For a time, I was out of work and then found work that was essentially a zero-hours contract, highly paid, but no hours to book, for I was assigned no projects.

Being behind on my rent, the estate agent did everything to lure me out of my sense of independence to seek entitlements from the state. It was humbling but I put myself into it, attended every appointment, and dressed up properly in a suit and tie that they considered taking a picture of me as an example of how to appear at the job centre.

Keeping on in crisis

Things were tight, but the little that came in helped to keep a roof over my head even with the threat of ejection looming sometimes too close for comfort. I kept looking forward, availing myself of opportunities to enter gainful employment along with the possible transition from being self-employed after over 20 years to becoming an employee.

For months, I was putting in so many applications for jobs with no responses, my resume had many iterations and editions, even as experts opined that my original profile was good enough. In the meantime, I had suffered a crisis of confidence and unfortunately, some of whom I hoped to buoy me up in those low times also began to lose faith in me.

My partner and my best friend were the constant cheerleaders through these dark times and sadly if one were to be honest, I could not even rely on my mother for that kind of support. To those whose close relationship in bad times became evidently transactional, they were not heard from because what they relied on no more supplied the largesse they had grown used to.

Be relentless regardless

It was tough but I was unbowed, showed up where I needed to, was enthusiastic about things I never gave my mind to, tried things I never considered doing before and began to find a new sense of purpose, drive, and direction. I owe that spirit of resilience to my faith, many examples impactful or basic, from sometimes uncommon places and people.

You can post six hundred applications for jobs, but you must keep posting until you get one and it is just one where someone sees a lot more in your profile than pertains and is ready to find out how interesting a person you are. Indeed, I did post that many applications and had to document them as part of my commitments that secured my state entitlements. You cannot relent.

Live your human story well

Adversity will always be part of man's experience; it becomes part of our stories, but the difference is in how we face such circumstances to determine how we are affected by them. Whatever the estate agent might have thought about my situation, I was living it and decidedly dealing with it.

Cancer was discovered, treatments discussed, and radiotherapy was selected. Get on with it and look back at it in time as part of your human story.

I count my blessings and refuse to dwell on the problems, they will pass, and much will be learnt in understanding where to place one’s confidence and trust. “Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all.” [Bible Hub: Psalm 34:19 (NLT)]

From stage to stage

On a stage of pain

When I ended up in hospital on Tuesday, the 22^nd of September 2009, I was in so much pain, I found no facility to cry, and I was already on some of the strongest painkillers that could be given you without constant medical supervision.

Blog - In hospital to kill the pain (September 2009)

Indeed, the pain of cancer is so totally otherworldly, the fact that anyone can even sleep through the pain is a wonder of human nature probably not fully understood to be appreciated. Pain then comes in many ways, the physical can be visible, but the emotional is less so, you can put on a face and veil how you feel, even that façade can soon shatter.

I find myself accessing the Kübler-Ross model on the Five Stages of Grief which I came upon as I was writhing in unbearable pain when I could not tolerate the morphine as it was one or the other, throwing up food I needed for sustenance or managing the pain enough to have my faculties delivered from a madness that was bordering on delirium.

The five stages of the Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle (ResearchGate)

Blog - Seeing hospital meals again (September 2009)

From stage to stage

For a long time, I was in denial, I was dying even as I was taking each day as it came, I was already aware that the presumably Athlete’s Foot was at least a type of cancer, but I was also bargaining for a miracle cure, my reality was seeking a supernal intervention that I had not convinced myself of. My denial was a reality I was not ready to accept as real.

In almost an instant, I woke up after my fifth night in the hospital with a sense of acceptance, I was speaking to myself in the first person, “Akin, you have cancer, what next?” That was when I began to see beyond the cancer and this was days before my consultant in his prognosis said, if I could not tolerate the treatment that included gruelling chemotherapy, I only had 5 weeks to live.

Blog - Getting off the pain train (September 2009)

In my spirit and in my mind, I was ahead of that kind of medical prognostication, I knew I was coming through, I just did not know what kind of life that future held. It took almost another 6 months for my body to catch up with my acceptance. The battle is always in the mind. I have used the model sometimes consciously but more unconsciously to understand many other aspects of adversity and infirmity that I have encountered and what stage I might be in.

Other words to stage

There might be synonymous feelings  and emotional responses that are not fully expressed in the starkness of Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I might not have been in shock, but I would have been winded or blind-sided, this is a perspective of the feeling of anger. Where I would not suggest that I am depressed, I might well be sad, lacking in motivation, or even indifferent, it is important not to boil down the emotion to fit a construct.

When I was told my baby sister had chronic kidney disease, that situation was immediately overwhelming for me, I was in grief and mourning, my acceptance of the situation was one of resignation. Sadly, I had no faith or hope for a future, I was preparing myself for the end, it came almost 3 and half years later. She had a life-long illness than medicine only seemed to ameliorate on occasion, other factors playing in adherence and discipline exacerbated matters. Her death was a release, difficult as it was.

Yet, I am not always at the point where I am seeing beyond the situation, acceptance is a process some never get to, just as denial is sometimes a defence mechanism. Why dwell in your reality when there is safety in avoidance? Some truths are difficult to assess; you would rather not be acquainted with it.

Stuck in a stage

I suppose unpredictability is one characteristic feature of our humanity, you cannot predetermine how you would react to an event. Much of your experience might equip you for what is ahead, and help you process the news you hear, but the effect is impossible to chart, it is on review that you might see how you have been affected.

As I filled my weekly pillbox yesterday, it seemed more like a chore than the routine it was, an indifference creeping in that I needed to counter because my stream of consciousness and expectation had been interrupted. I guess on the processing of this new grief, I am still in denial.

We stand assured

We stand alone

For the Lord GOD will help me; therefore shall I not be confounded: therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed. [Bible Hub: Isaiah 50:7 (KJV)]

Some of the challenges we face in life, we almost always face alone; when we receive the news of a terrible diagnosis presenting a dark realisation of existential mortality, the thoughts that run riot in your head are a Babel of incomprehensibility captured in a moment that seems like an eternity.

For me, I can only say that I have been blessed as I hear the prognosis and seek to appreciate the import of what has been said. Then from within wells up a fight, my face is set like a flint, unflinching in adversity and refusing to be defined by the immediate incapacity.

We stand assured

It makes sobriety feel like a curse, all your faculties are engaged, you are in no doubt that you seek a repetition of the situation, you heard right the first time, you do not need a confirmation. However, you seek a place to reflect, the quietude of a lonely moment before embracing the healing succour of slumber.

Indeed, sleep does stop the mind from wandering into the wilderness like a marauding prophet of doom bedecked in anything but the finery of the acceptable, mad beyond any redeeming quality, except to instil fear.

We are saved from the situation and saved from ourselves. We are strengthened with resolve to face adversity and to emerge with stories and testimonies that blow the mind. The spirit that is the engine of our sustenance continues to drive us forward with the clear reasoning that as long as we live, we will live well, thrive, and do good. In that, we know, we shall not be ashamed.

Keep on keeping on

The Gift of Today

"Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a GIFT. That's why it's called the present." Bil Keane

The quote above in full or in part is usually credited to many people, though the consensus suggests it was originally by Bil Keane, who was a cartoonist. This gives life to the idea in a Yoruba saying “Ibi eré la tíí mọ òotọ́ ọ̀rọ̀.” This translated to, it is a play that you get to learn the truth. You wonder how a cartoonist might have come to write something so profound.

The gift of today is a moment of reflection on the journeys completed in the yesterdays of the past, the blessings that I remember today of goodness, mercy, and favour that nothing has been in vain, and the hope that tomorrow brings.

Holding back from doing

A poor anticipation of the future has sometimes impacted my reasoning for things of life and experience, the things I have held back from doing or considered too onerous because I felt such limitations of infirmity and uncertainty, now leave me amazed at how the passage of time has revealed that I need not have been apprehensive. I should have used the opportunity when presented to do what ability and facility offered.

Recently, it has been the spirit of perseverance and tenacity that has undergirded me even if through adversity you feel the pain as any semblance of winning or success seems even more distant as each day passes.

Yet, I had to keep believing and pressing forward using every help and support that I could access to get beyond the struggles that defined the recent past in the loss of confidence, the disappointments, the failures, the rejections, and the nearly-there situations that fell through.

Keep at it, keep on moving

At a conservative estimate, there have been over 600 applications from someone nearly 60 years old, a veteran of my industry who should be considering retirement, but still has the energy and passion for the career that has given me opportunities to walk into places I could never have imagined possible with the trajectory I took.

As you live, you have to continue living, striving to be the best you can be at what you do until those who will appreciate, honour, and respect you come your way and take you on. Having a long-term condition should not be definitive and the conclusion of ambition or goals. I have mostly resisted the tendency to accentuate any vulnerability in the face of the gifts of compelling ability that I possess.

Believe in yourself above all

Something in the example and the observation of my parents has given me that sense of self-esteem and even projection that is a grace in my life opening doors, hearts, and hands. I am blessed. You cannot faint, but you have to chart your own course, working at your own pace, avoiding the pressure of fulfilling the requirements of other apparently vested interests who usually mean well, but are not at particular times helpful.

Keep on doing what you know to do because you are the best at knowing yourself and what you can do. Stretch yourself as best you can to the challenge that presents and believe yourself enough to be up to the task either in the ability to do it or in the facility to find the wherewithal to succeed.

Remember to appreciate your journey

The history of yesterday bears in its passing the gift of today, and cherishing the gift of today prepares you for the mystery that offers the surprise of what that next gift is. 

Never forget those who have carried you on the journey that in its difficult and wilderness times did not falter or sway. The many promises others made but could not keep only come to show how much you had in store without believing in the arm of flesh that fails you when you need it most.

It should not be held against them, for as we know, human beings are of such limited resources and abilities, for me, Almighty God has sustained me and brought people and angels my way, too numerous to number. I am loved, in love, borne in love, and overwhelmed by love. This is my story, and this is my song.

Nothing stays the same, the glorious morning will eventually set the night on its way into the eternal past; the present gift of today lets you know that you have everything to go for, and by pressing on, you are getting on to winning too.

Thought Picnic: Know when the conversation is no longer helpful

Be careful with how you listen

I can understand how people can be wearied by situations, circumstances, or adversities affecting others, especially in situations where they are somewhat unable to help.

Then, in those settings, some try to contribute to the general narrative and outlook in the hope of better outcomes, and that is what we all wish for.

However, how that contribution and support is delivered might have other unintended consequences. Having grown up in a setting that was not as effusive with praise as it could be of criticism, rebuke, admonition, and comparison, advantageous to one side of the argument that believed in right and might, you begin to grow a thick skin to the negative.

Notice when the tone begins to change

For a while, I instituted a weekly conversation where I relayed issues affecting me in the hope that helpful and supportive counsel might ensue from the experience and knowledge of life that far exceeded mine. Indeed, it was very useful until it was not.

Laced with the encouraging words of concern, love, and affection were the inadvertent slips of candour that began to negate the purpose for which these conversations continued. The slow drip of weariness at a situation not changing began to take its toll. I endured it for a while until the cumulative effect called for a termination of this conversational construct.

Cut off the negative promptly

It was no longer helpful for me, I needed to sequester myself from the unhealthy even if it all meant well. It behoves us all to constantly review and assess the kinds of conversation we engage with, curate the people who speak into our lives and circumstances, cultivate the supportive, discern the disruptive, and close out the negative.

An emotional detachment regardless of the relationship is called for, it is something that I have found necessary to do, even from childhood. For all that we aim to cherish, never adhere to that which might perish.

Homeless, not hopeless

Among us all

There are moments that you observe as you walk around your city that present you with a time to reflect on the many blessings that greet us each passing day.

The grip of adversity can rob you of every kind of agency, the belief in yourself, the appreciation of human kindness, the facility for hope, and even a desire to live.

Hurdled in corners all around my city are the homeless and the destitute whose many stories are seen through just their immediate deprivation. There is more to them than what we see. Yet, there is no magic wand to wave with either determination or the almost limp-wristed suave of a sprite from the other world to change things.

Just a little

The burden of the issue is immense, you want to walk away and pretend certain realities are too great to countenance, but I saw a man in distress, he was crying and that touched me so deeply, that I turned and went to him to ask what the problem was.

He had a catalogue of woe to drown fish in its own habitat and I asked him to give me 15 minutes, he had probably heard that too many times to care about the truth of good intentions until I returned just about 20 minutes later having been distracted by an unfortunate situation.

His surprise at seeing me again, yes, I made a promise to a total stranger, but it was not just about him trusting me but a demonstration of knowing that my own words must count for something to myself. It is hence important not to vow rashly, for in not meeting it, your words begin to lose significance to you first and then to others.

More in him

In our exchanges, I found that he was going to be 50 and about to be a grandfather, you just never know if you do not engage, interact with, and deign to see another regardless of stature. One little thing can restore hope, give a sense that there is a tomorrow and help appreciate that no man is or remains an island.

He said he would lie down and say a prayer for me, I cannot remember the number of times we hugged, but that little moment of turning tears into smiles should be the broader story of our shared humanity.

I believe in angels, and many have been sent my way, in the depths of despair there is strength that tells you a better story is just being written.

Thought Picnic: The spirit of living

In spirit of spirit

Spirit, beyond the being that we essentially are is that force of life that creates the situations and pathways that become the testimonies of gratitude and thankfulness we get to tell.

Enlivening spirit is the power and vision of hope, I saw it on the day that I received news of a condition that devastated the community to which I belong over 21 years ago, for against the stark contrast of foreboding and the mountain of impossibility that loomed in the foreground, I saw the light of dawn that said the story was not ending with the news I had just heard.

The spirit of revelation

The knowledge I have gained and the way I find myself reviewing that quantum of legacy in the face of new experiences is such that I am grateful that opening my mind to new perspectives brings new learning, insight, and wisdom to engender change.

One big lesson I have learnt is not to sit in the cocoon of a revelation for too long, every revelation belongs to an instant and a time frame, and it may not outlive its usefulness, but between the immutable that governs our faith and the changing that is the witness of our lives, a new light would always need to be shone on a situation.

When light is incidental on a prism, the beauty of the light is only realised in movement, the movement of the prism and the changing of your viewpoint and perspective, the light, the source of knowledge and inspiration remaining the same.

The revelations that gave me calmness in another period of adversity did not give me peace when brought to bear in other circumstances. Meditation has to be continuous as revelation needs to be renewed refuelling us for another journey in life.

The spirit of living

Coming back to spirit, it is no pleasure going through any period of adversity, difficulty, or incapacity, you almost feel that the world is closing in on you. Then sometimes, you must close yourself to the world around you and settle in the darkness and dampness of the soil in which you have been buried as seed.

A seed in the soil, watered by revelation and warmed by hope, sets in motion the cycle of life, new life, the sprouting of growth and the promise of a harvest in due time. I wonder at the spirit of life that sustains the health of our mortal being, the hopes we have, and the revelations that let us dare to dream, and then believe that those dreams can come true.

I marvel at the spirit of joy that lifts us above everything that deigns to hold us back and feigns at domineering us when we are more usually clueless about who we are and why we exist to reign and overcome. I am a spirit, I have the Spirit in me, and my spirit is triumphant as I find my place by the grace given to me to live and hide in God who is spirit and whom I seek to worship in spirit and in truth.

Privacy in a world of extroverts and exhibitionists

When is it too much?

It is interesting when you encounter invasive disclosure requirements that leave you wondering if you have become overexposed and vulnerable.

You meet a fine line and distinction that probably is left to gut instinct as to how you respond and what you are willing to give away. For instance, when over a decade ago the gap in my employment was predicated on the need for cancer treatment and recuperation, I offered to present a medical note from my consultant, but the employer instead requested my medical prescription.

For me, that was egregious and intrusive, I could find no rationale for such a request. Then again, I half appreciated that the request was being processed outside of the boundaries of Europe even as the job was in the UK and I lived in the Netherlands. Much as I could have challenged the request further than I did, I felt that this kind of unwarranted intrusion was not only adverse but that the cultural norms of a certain domain had not cultivated the understanding of elements of privacy we Europeans were accustomed to.

Handling the issues with tact

I soon removed myself from the process and declined the offer because we had reached an impasse beyond which there was no viable future in which I would have felt comfortable.

Indeed, the issues of privacy, secrecy, and confidentiality work together to protect the person we are, having the confidence that you only need to share what is necessary for the sake of meeting a requirement without losing the mechanisation or automation of expediency. I still believe even as a technologist that traditional methods of handling private data have better checks and balances that are less susceptible to unfortunate biases.

At other times, it is being embarrassed by circumstances engendering almost a sense of shame or failure, but these are all part of the story of life if systems are allowed to spare our blushes.

I hope I still have some control

I consciously curate what I am ready to reveal and share, I have faced some challenges that have required inspiration and dare I say of divine provenance to address certain requests. Important in all of this is being open about very significant elements of myself that half a century ago would not have been possible and is still detrimental in some countries and regions around the world.

Where you do not want to be is realising you have lost control of your own narrative in the quest for something you desire, but not at any price.

We have such wide-ranging diversity and have encountered serious adversity at various times, yet we are who we are with all that pertains to who we are and the relationships we hold dear. We understand responsibility and loyalty and appreciate the quality of character while striving for a better world in whatever place we might find ourselves.

I guess I am grateful for understanding and being understood. Even the most interesting and good books need covers, and the most beautiful windows do at times need the curtains drawn. Between the exhibitionist by inclination and the spectacle by duress, neither should be the only choices about how we choose to tell our stories if we are not fully persuaded.

Food in choice from supply

A rueful and grateful contemplation

There is always someone else whose situation and circumstances are worse than ours and, in the same spirit, one should always be grateful for the goodness and blessing that surround us even if issues tend to cloud our minds as to the relativeness of where we might be.

It is important that in recognising how fortunate one is, we do not go seeking to plumb the depths of destitution and adversity to ascertain the extent to which one should be grateful for being better off. Every lack needs supply, whether great or small.

Exiting the place, we all seem not to go straight home but stand somewhere to contemplate what we have just been through, a new low in a longer story that for many would be impossible to relate. A sense of embarrassment overcome by the realisation of need, a sense of shame bludgeoned through with a daring for survival, a sense of failure reducing you to the generosity and mercy of others.

Yea, I can recount many such situations that have become the broader tapestry of the joy of living, for without life, how can anyone experience the highs, the lows, the changes and consequently the opportunity to speak or write of such in your own words?

Parsnips for yams

On arrival, there was a registration before a helper took a list off me to ascertain what I might or might not need, through stifled giggles, we navigated an alien world into which we for the circumstances need to attempt to fit in for the sake of sustenance and keeping some of that hope alive.

She immediately recognised my heritage and she volunteered that her husband is Nigerian who likes his food fresh before saying one of those many issues with Nigerian men. It got to a point where I simply asked her to filter her list through the palate needs of anyone from West Africa and she immediately said, none of what we were viewing would work. However, we adapt.

Only what you need

The things that could work for me, I chose and left out those that just had no bearing on anything I would consider even in extremis. A box of sandwiches seeking those who hunger, the choices from simple to untenable, like horseradish with beef, horseradish is more than an acquired taste, you need to have been introduced to it under extreme torture for a long period of time to find your Stockholm’s Syndrome comfort in tasting it at will.

We were there because there was not enough and there were people and organisations willing and generous to give to a community effort of helping those who have a season and hopefully a short one of famine in the land. My sister will say to me, food is one essential commodity that should never be lacking in the home. Alas! We have not fallen to the temptation of turning stones to bread.

The food bank is both a humbling and an appreciation of the humanity that still throws an arm of love, consideration, and generosity around others, regardless of who they are.

Thought Picnic: Those who resort to bastardry should answer for their claims

Refusing to bear the slur

It has occurred to me that there must be a time when you must divorce yourself from illegitimacy and the hold of bastardry predicated on an assessment of your situation with little regard for your lived life and achievements.

Obviously, there were circumstances where children born out of wedlock were considered illegitimate, but it is no fault of the child that they were born into that situation. Unfortunately, the label might dog them in terms of inheritance or entitlement, but what cannot be denied them is the right to live their own lives and set their own course to create their own story.

Other uses of the word bastard might come from attempting to address the child in terms of what they have failed to achieve for wanting of ability and sometimes it is just adversity or misfortune that can happen to anyone, just that someone somewhere seems to be keeping score.

Invariably, anyone can be a bastard, choose to be one or be seen as one. For those who for all sorts of reasons are declared so but refuse to let it define them, the path before them is clear as the light of day. Provenance is helpful, but without it, you can still go on to become the best of who you can ever be for the betterment of people and communities that see you as you are rather than where you are from.

Let them answer for their claims

It is interesting that even royal bastards even with their illegitimacy were rarely without honour or title and many were quite prominent in society without attainder for being born out of wedlock. A child of whom they have been born remains the child of, whether recognised and accepted or not.

If then after so having reached adulthood there are some that seek to lay that unfortunate appellation on you, it is for them to then support that with the evidence of why illegitimacy is their refuge of discourse apart from whatever else you have done and achieved.

Smarting from an encounter that elicited reference and allusion in the mistaken need to trigger a response to attendant concerns, it is not the need to continue engagement that comes to mind even if some advice has suggested a bit more circumspection to limited spheres of adverse commentary. 

Rather, one is inclined to cut off communication for the time being, for once again, a line was crossed and if bastardry was a last resort for one, it became the last straw that broke the laden camel’s back for another.

Blog: Thought Picnic: Battling a dimension of legitimacy

Thought Picnic: Battling a dimension of legitimacy

Where it seems to be

There are things and situations that seek to rob you of your peace and invade the witching hours to inflict insomnia on the necessity for sleep. The back and forth of rumination that presents as worry that brings no solution but much bother to the fore.

You wrestle with much about life and desire, the dreams that seem too distant to the reality you seek, yet you cannot stop believing that the possible is not as far away as it seems.

Some think it is a mid-life crisis, sometimes it is much further on than mid-life, just before your golden jubilee, there are considerations that come to the fore, the insurgence of self-doubt as much as the ebbing away of self-confidence. Motivation becomes alien in the scheme of things.

What they expect of you

There is a battle raging in your being in the usually observed futile attempts to get your life back on track. It is a daily war against so many elements, it is by abundant grace that many are not overwhelmed even as exhaustion taxes on both strength and will.

As if that is not hard enough on the individual, there are external pressures in addition to the ones prevalent, familial, familiar, and further afield. Those who are secondarily affected by a somewhat whispering campaign about your situation, more perceived than real, the constant need to keep up with the Joneses than brings you in regular comparison with others whose trajectory has never been of concern until you met some roadblocks.

Who is doing the talking?

How is it that when adversity comes, the support you get is sparse but the questioning about your legitimacy borne of activity and achievement apart from progeny becomes topical? When this is broached directly or in code by those you expect an understanding from, you can be left not only discomfited but also discouraged, despondent, despairing, and disappointed.

It is in terms of that situation that I was advised not to submit myself to such discussions as there is just about enough pressure on yourself trying to find a solution to your situation before carrying on your shoulders the concerns of others simply trying to keep up appearances totally at your expense with little appreciation of your plight.

How I see the future

If not for the unstinting support of my partner and my best friend, there is no telling for how one could cope. Then it is not about coping, I don’t just want to get by even if each day seems a drudge of the unchanging same, I am strong on the will to not only survive but thrive too.

For at present, I have walked and wandered through the valley of the shadow of death, encountering evil in various forms, but in all of that, the Lord is with me and will bring me through it all to the refreshing still waters and luxuriant green pastures. A table is set before me in the presence of my enemies, my cup of blessing and joy overflows and I will yet testify of the goodness and mercy that follows me, all my days. [A paraphrase and adaptation of the Psalm 23]

Thought Picnic: Discerning insidious familial device

Sometimes fraught in thought

Finding the form of words to illustrate certain situations that are difficult to talk about would usually be an area of ability I would rarely be wanting or lacking. Yet, having harboured these thoughts for days, I finally began to gain a handle on things enough to express to an extent, how I felt.

We are essentially products of the environments and influences in which we find ourselves from childhood experiences and observations that many expect with the passage of time for us to forget through to the recent times where the occupation of situation might be both distracting and at the same time uncomfortable.

Abuse in its other forms

I seek not to commend myself in the ways that facing adversity and hard times has been borne with varying levels of stoicism and fortitude as much as with the help, support, and prayers of many who are acquainted with the circumstances.

In a moment of vulnerability, I was caught off-guard by parental device, and we usually are, when the focus was shifted from issue to collateral. Indeed, how well we are doing does reflect on others, just as the adverse might too. What it should never become is using the preponderance of the affected to press the point of your situation. The exertion of emotional menace can be insidious.

People forget the facts

I have a lot to say about many things, that I give myself to the patience of listening should not be misconstrued as acquiescence or acceptance, it is love, liking, respect, and even consideration that lends my ears to incident, inclination, assumption, and the paranoia that afflicts others to the point that it negatively impacts the listener.

People who have for decades cannot resolve their differences and then regale us with constant and unrelenting tales of woe that you have heard from time began, their stories seep into your narrative and could become your own story if care is not taken to understand what is at play.

During that conversation, it was implied that one had deviated from the kind of instruction one had been given from childhood, but that is a total misreading of the historical fact. Despite the good intentions at the time, I remember things quite vividly and differently. The experience was and is never one to which I would want to return. The path in which I seek better understanding and direction is quite different, but for the sake of amity over conflict, I have kept my peace.

The God loves me race

The things I remember should make me angry, in the particular, they should be totally unforgivable, but for the purpose of living, one should keep a tender spirit, even a heart of forbearance with an understanding that we all have many faults and limitations for which we have been forgiven not to impute the various infractions of others on them by total disengagement.

The race I run is a process of learning, the teaching for life will be valuable and the testimony at the end will be of wonder and beauty. I count my blessings even in the depth of despair and despondency that life gives hope, health is wealth, and the best is yet to come. God loves me, I just need to appreciate that more. My journey remains mine to pursue, if others are affected, they have run into my lane, and I keep my focus on my race.

In a moment of critical self-evaluation

The Job mystery in every life

It has become a canon of development and growth, to understand the event of trial and adversity whilst seeking to make a way towards a better story and good report that becomes the grist of testimonies further on.

I cherish much the counsel of those who attempt with all feeling and compassion to walk the shoes I walk, through the rough patches with the immediacy and urgency to help relieve me of the burdens that at times seek to crush and fail to impact, strengthening sinew and muscle of spirit, mind, and body as each day passes.

To those to whom I have not given an ear, much as I appreciate their concern which comes from a good place, persuasion is a lot more than hard talk or tough love. Our humanity in its fragility responds best to encouragement with the light of hope to lead toward a desirable destination. It is not one of vague optimism but of practical consequence, where words are followed by an activity that buoys what to some might seem a sinking ship.

Those beside on your side

In friend, I have found more than the material that suggests one is not in this alone; in lover, the amazing embrace of support and the constant expression of faith and confidence, much of which one might struggle to believe, but pictures are created in the mind of what is both possible and achievable.

In mother, a soothing and comforting voice almost like a lullaby that wafts in the ears of a toddler being rocked to the shore of peaceful and blissful sleep. Then a steeling up of belief that you are both able and capable, to which I promise was made, you have a son who will not throw in the towel. We are fighting this to the end for triumph beyond anticipation.

Blog - Thought Picnic: On mother today and everyday

In parson, counsel and pastoral support came with such Christian compassion and engagement, with advice and reference, help and prayer. We sometimes forget we live in a wealthy place of a community we rarely access and understand enough for the neighbourly succour that exists not for our inconvenience and essentially more for our safety.

A process of self-discovery

Personally, I seek a way to the light, a better understanding of self and purpose to gain focus and advantage in the issues that beset me. In the things of old that once were a source of strength and the search for the new in revelation and exposition of why we exist at all in the settings and situations that we are. Besides that, how else would one be so uniquely different and storied if you do not do crazy things? Each man has to work out their salvation with fear and trembling.

So then, my dear ones, just as you have always obeyed [my instructions with enthusiasm], not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence, continue to work out your salvation [that is, cultivate it, bring it to full effect, actively pursue spiritual maturity] with awe-inspired fear and trembling [using serious caution and critical self-evaluation to avoid anything that might offend God or discredit the name of Christ]. [Bible Hub: Philippians 2:12 Amplified]

Reference

The story of Job, a biblical figure [Wikipedia]