Читать книгу THE LITERACY OF BELIEF - Uju C. Ukwuoma - Страница 9

CHAPTER 1

Belief is Essential in Life

We often become what we think, believe and do, but sometimes neither what we thought nor believed or did determines what we become.

My uncle continued to treat my father as his son and baby brother many years after my father married my mom. To my beloved uncle Bryan, his three younger brothers required a lot of guidance from their eldest brother. It did not matter that each of the younger brothers was over the age of 45, married, and with teenage daughters and sons. Three of my uncles who were younger than uncle Bryan, had left our native land more than 20 years ago. Two of them have houses in big cities which they call home. Uncle Bryan’s younger brothers visit the village only on weekends, festive periods, or during family reunions to check on their eldest brother. One of the four brothers has traveled to many countries in Europe and the Americas as a sailor and civil engineer. The other has received some western education but settled as a businessman in a significant commercial city. The third and youngest relocated to the United States for college education on an all-expense-paid scholarship by the then colonial, Posts and Telegraphs (P&T) department. Such credentials contrasted with the traditional way of life, in which my grandparents and great grandparents raised uncle Bryan and his three brothers in our rural and agrarian West African community in the early 1920s.

Growing up, I noticed that uncle Bryan played daddy to my father and his younger brothers. My father said that uncle Bryan assumed the role of a father as their parents aged, as expected in their culture. It was customary for older siblings and members of the community to take care of younger ones. I saw my parents care for my grandparents, and I also witnessed my grandparents caring for my great grandparents. There was not, and there is not such a thing as elderly people’s homes like we have in the United States. People live together till old age, and they pass away still living with their kith and kin. As such, I was not just my father’s son. I was also the son of my uncles and all of the elderly members of my extended family.

So, I cheerfully respected and ran errands for all elderly male or female members of our family. Respect was a crucial principle in the community. As kids, being respectful was expected of us; it was non-negotiable. Age seemed to earn people respect; the older you were, the more your chances were of being respected. However, everyone expected more respect from male family members than females. Such expectation was important because males were believed to be responsible for advancing the family legacy. Male family members worked more on family farms and businesses. Our sisters were respected, but the boys were groomed to become the breadwinners and authority figures of their future families.

Out of respect and my family’s expectation of a higher standard of character, my male cousins and I followed instructions without hesitation. We respected all older adults, including aunts, elder brothers, elder sisters, grandparents, great grandparents, fathers, inlaws, mothers, and uncles in the village, no questions asked. Our elders deemed us as respectful if we did whatever they asked of us without hesitation or grumbling. Elders often asked us to bring firewood from forests. On some occasions, elders asked us to go to the village stream and fetch water for childless widows. The elders would also ask us to work in the family farmlands. Sometimes, they requested us to write letters for family members whose sons and daughters resided in cities that were far away from our community.

The most critical way of showing respect was by following the family’s belief systems. Like other members of our community, my immediate and extended family members had many essential traditions that were centered on belief. Some followed the Christian faith. Others followed Hinduism and Islam. Uncle Bryan was a hardcore ancestral worshiper, which I did not understand until after about 20 years of studying him. The remainder of uncle Bryan’s brothers belonged to four organizations, which family members termed “Secret Societies.” My older cousin, a Hindu, applauds himself as being among the first set of Krishna devotees in West Africa. His entire family follows the Hindu faith.

My mother taught me to stay away from family members who were Hindus, members of the Islamic faith, and those who belonged to secret societies. Mom took her adherence to the Christian faith a step further by identifying as born-again Christian. To respect my mom, I stayed away from family members who were Hindus and those who belonged to secret societies, but not Islam. Besides the motherly admonition, I was not too fond of the restrictive lifestyles led by those who identified as members of secret societies. Also, I did not like my older cousin’s hairstyle. He shaved his head, leaving a little at the back, which made him stand out from everyone in the community. His dress style was also different from ours. So, as a child, I overlooked such family members.

I participated in the belief systems of family members who were of the Anglican Communion, Roman Catholic, and Jehovah’s Witnesses. I also exchanged ideas with those who were Born-again Christians or Pentecostals, Cherubim and Seraphim members, Muslims, and those tagged secret society members, at a tender age, of course without my mother’s knowledge.

I did not understand much about the ancestral worship of uncle Bryan even though he was the most open-minded of my uncles and a consistent practitioner of his faith. He coordinated an event often slated for early April. Although I now possess a doctorate and have been teaching for over 25 years, I am unable to name or explain the precise meaning of that April ceremony in the English language. Each time I asked, I was told that it was just a family tradition. However, I have a vivid recollection of what occurred during the ceremony. I witnessed the occasion four times when I was between the ages of seven and ten. After that, I left home for a boarding school in the city and lost the opportunity to witness more of the event.

Uncle Bryan believes in ancestral worship with everything in him. To him and his cohorts, belief is essential in life, and we become what we believe, think and what we do. While I want to concur, I have seen that sometimes in life, what we neither believed nor thought or did, determines what we become.