Thursday, 21 December 2017

The Unseen Consequences of Recession From My Observation: Ohikhuare Isuku

I
t’s a common knowledge that economic recession is characterized by poor standard of living, high cost of living, astronomical inflation rate, unemployment, unstable marriages and relationships among others. But it’s unusual to note that recession also results in rise in the number of wedding ceremonies, more romantic relationships, increased quest for higher degrees, and the most disastrous being the increase in the number of reported cases of adultery in which women are found guilty.  

The increase in the number of reported feminine adultery of recent has been disturbing. This new development of infidelity has resulted in a number of depression cases, divorces and very often deaths. So many stakeholders have blamed the fall of values and prestige for this ugly development, while others have conveniently pointed their accusing fingers at the infiltration of African’s unique traditions which define threshold for taboos, by the untamed culture of the West. These persons easily support their assertions with the fact that in those days, if you dared to commit a taboo like adultery, there was bound to be a repercussion of some sort; and even though these spiritual repercussions weren’t that potent, they carried with them great fear which checked the excesses of the populations. But these taboos were condemned by new faiths introduced by foreigners, and the fear the taboos took along with them was eroded gradually. Hence the consequential result of immorality.

But I don’t entirely agree with the above assertions. Yes, they might be true, but in my own opinion, recession has a far-reaching effect on the crackdown of values and dignity than the condemnation of taboos by new faiths. This is my observation since the recession began, or since Nigerians were told the suffering they’d suffered for many decades is called Recession.

During hunger and strife, there is breakdown of law and order. In this case, value and dignity are no exceptions. With the hassle in our national life since the recession, I think cases of feminine adultery have more than doubled the number of the past decades. A housewife with a very poor husband, for example, who has five little children crying for want of food, wouldn’t think of dignity if a wealthy man offers her a slim wad of crisp naira notes for sex.

Apart from feminine adultery, many things change during recession. Like numerous marriages. In this case, young ladies want to get married because of unemployment; they just want men they can depend on no matter how meagre the men’s salaries are; they pressurize their partners with threats of breakup if they refuse to marry them. At last, many men fall for these threats and borrow to walk the young ladies down the aisle. The hardships which follow soon after these premature marriages lead to marital instability and infidelity.  If the economy were to be stable, women would be fully engaged, and they’d think less about marrying for dependence.


Also from my observation, the increase in the number of University graduates desirous of master’s degree and PhD is a direct consequence of a recessive economy. If the economy were stable, so many graduates would prefer to seek for jobs rather than go for higher degrees. Only those who have interest in research and the academics will aim for further education. Nowadays, graduates would most likely want to have a higher degree either to increase their chances of securing jobs in the already congested labour market or to keep themselves engaged with a comforting sense of dependence, while they scout for jobs which aren’t within reach. 
Read More »

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

The Ibadan Experience: Ohikhuare Isuku

Y
esterday, I saw a young boy for the first time in Ibadan who did not betray his timidity either through excessive veneration or by affecting an unwarranted arrogance just to shield the inferiority complex his or her cultural upbringing has inflicted on him. 

It was evening – at that time the sky took a uniform greyness like the colour of thick billow of smoke – and I had come to the market to shop for groceries. When I was done, I decided to get a carton of noodles from one of the shops which flanked the market at the outskirt. I saw this young boy there inside the only shop opened at the outskirt. He was chubby and dark-complexioned; his height was just perfect for a boy of ten, although I would not know. He asked what I wanted even before I spoke. His voice was firm, yet it lacked this common scorn most children I had seen possessed just to mask the damages a stiff upbringing had caused on them. 

I told the young boy I wanted noodles, half-cartoon. He gave me the price, and once I had agreed to terms, he brought the cartoon of the noodles from where it was piled up, using a stool. Then he did what caught my eyes: he actually joked with me confidently. I can't remember the joke exactly. Maybe the shock that a child brought up in Ibadan had had the gods to make such clever joke, made me forget the content of it. I laughed and I joked with him also. His response was mature and I was truly impressed. But this boy saved his best display for the last. As I was about leaving after the transaction, he said to me, "thank you"; there was no "sir" attached to it. A sugary sensation rose to fill my mouth instantly and I was forced to ask him if he was an Ibadan boy. He shook his head in the affirmative. I smiled and was impressed, and as I walked away that grey evening, I saw in that young boy this privilege his guardians gave him to grow at his pace, not being squeezed with expired cultures of bowing down and prostrating or nodding head like a slave does to a slave-master which are the only ways these people believe respect can be expressed. 

T
o me, most Ibadan people are hypocritical outright, especially those blabbing market women at Orita. Anytime I visit their market, the women bathe me with "uncle", "sir", "brother" and many other annoying prefixes. Even one day, a woman – about my mother's age – dared to call me "daddy". She had gone too far, I thought within myself, and then I summoned the courage to beg her to stop it; that I had not given birth yet; I was still in my twenties. She was obviously embarrassed, but in her weak defense, she said either ways, I would be a daddy someday.  Sadly, what makes this exaggerated veneration annoying is that the same woman who just called you "uncle" might be the one to spill insult on you soonest, at the slightest provocation.

The opinion I strive to buttress here is that excessive veneration – like prostrating or kneeling to greet – is not a true way of showing respect. These acts are slave-like. Because as from early age, if a child is forced to learn these norms against his or her will, the child is driven into the abyss of low self-esteem. This low self-esteem is a problem which to a large extent is directly linked with fear, betrayal, deceit, corruption, manifested by the child as he or she journeys into adulthood. 


Ohikhuare Isuku,
Ibadan,
Nigeria.
Read More »