Inner strength and perseverance ….
Ever heard a song by Sade called Pearls? From my perspective, limited as it may be in matters of music, it possesses some of the most haunting lyrics ever penned.
There is a woman in Somalia
Scraping for pearls on the roadsideEver heard a song by Sade called Pearls? From my perspective, limited as it may be in matters of music, it possesses some of the most haunting lyrics ever penned.
There is a woman in Somalia
There's a force stronger than nature
Keeps her will alive
This is how she's dying
She's dying to survive
Don't know what she's made of
I would like to be that brave
She cries to the heaven above
There is a stone in my heart
She lives a life she didn't choose
And it hurts like brand-new shoes
Hurts like brand-new shoes
There is a woman in Somalia
The sun gives her no mercy
The same sky we lay under
Burns her to the bone
Long as afternoon shadows
It's gonna take her to get home
Each grain carefully wrapped up
Pearls for her little girl
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
She cries to the heaven above
There is a stone in my heart
She lives in a world she didn't choose
And it hurts like brand-new shoes
Hurts like brand-new shoes
The above words perfectly describe the struggle for survival I saw in much of Africa as a child. During my time in Sudan, I witnessed a country torn asunder by civil unrest and poverty. In spite of the overtly dire circumstances of the people, it beggared belief that so many persevered with life where others would have fallen. These individuals were possessed of a strength and determination few will ever know, let alone fathom.
Unbeknown to most, both my parents came from a background of abject poverty. Nonetheless, they were privileged in respect of the numerous sacrifices made by my grandparents to ensure that their offspring benefited from a sound education. My parents made the most of this opportunity, sacrificing a social life for the rigours of study and examinations. In time, both become highly accomplished professionals, and served with the United Nations for several years before embarking on alternative careers. During this period, my grandparents lived well owing to the continued support and assistance of their children. However, all four passed away before I ever had an opportunity to get to know them well.
My parents speak little of their folks and the difficult life they once lead. Compared to what ‘once was’, their current situation can only be described as a complete turnaround from the uncertainty of the past. On occasion, my grandparents would forego their dinner simply to provide their children with a meagre second helping. They worked and laboured hard throughout much of their life, striving hard to provide their children with benefits they themselves had not been afforded.
Given my own privileged upbringing, comprising of private and international schools and tertiary study, I cannot even begin to understand what life would have been like for my grandparents. Although I can sympathise, empathy is difficult since I have not been in a similar position and ostensibly never will. Looking at my parents, it sometimes appears that they are discomforted by the comfort in their lives. It presents an exceptionally stark contrast to what they once knew, so much so that any act deemed ‘indulgent’ is considered almost sinful. Why buy a novel when you can source the same item from a library? Why ‘eat out’ when significant savings are to be had by dining at home? Why purchase an Omega when a Seiko will suffice?
Despite what I have said above, my parents have absolutely no problem with spending extravagant amounts on their children. As a child, I could very easily have been spoilt had my parents not taught me the importance of money. They both did everything possible to ensure that I had most, if not everything, of what I desired. Every once in awhile, I hope to see them let their hair down, to stop time and just enjoy the moment instead of having work as a 24/7 consideration. They have both done everything possible and achievable in order to ‘survive’, it’s high time that they sought some rest.
The act of survival …. In my view this has to be the greatest singular accomplishment of humankind. If you doubt me, read ‘The Life and Times of Michael K’ – a novel by Coetzee, a Noble Prize winning laureate who is arguably the greatest contemporary author alive (recently emigrated from South Africa to Australia, teaching at the University of Adelaide). Coetzee’s novel is set in a period of civil unrest characterised by anarchy and brutal roaming armies. Michael K, a mentally disabled and impoverished black South African, finds himself an orphan following his mother’s death. Unlike his protagonist counterparts in other fictional novels, Michael does not commence a journey of ‘heroic endeavour’ in the traditional sense of that phrase. Rather, his singular achievement is that he survives in an environment that would break countless others.
‘The Life and Times of Michael K’ is an exceptionally complex novel. If one were to intellectualise it, as is necessary in regarding a work of that calibre, Michael is best described as an extremely marginal figure, disempowered and property-less. In a country torn apart by war, Michael strives hard to find a ‘gap between the fences’, a place to occupy. Being physically weak, Michael has to live off the temporal and material scraps left by the powerful, but his resistance is to use those that the powerful do not realise are there. Everywhere around him, people are laying seeking to lay ‘claim’ to all things capable of being either owned or possessed. In contrast, Michael’s existence is transient in nature. For example, he deliberately builds a home using materials that would be devoured by insects were he to cease tending to it.
Most commentators argue that history is defined by a sense of ‘place’. Being something of a wanderer or drifter, Michael has no claim over the landscape. He is a dispossessed soul, both unable and unwilling to make a mark on the very earth over which he roams. The reader is left with the brutal realisation that were Michael a real person, the imprint of his existence would disappear disturbingly soon after his death.
The above words perfectly describe the struggle for survival I saw in much of Africa as a child. During my time in Sudan, I witnessed a country torn asunder by civil unrest and poverty. In spite of the overtly dire circumstances of the people, it beggared belief that so many persevered with life where others would have fallen. These individuals were possessed of a strength and determination few will ever know, let alone fathom.
Unbeknown to most, both my parents came from a background of abject poverty. Nonetheless, they were privileged in respect of the numerous sacrifices made by my grandparents to ensure that their offspring benefited from a sound education. My parents made the most of this opportunity, sacrificing a social life for the rigours of study and examinations. In time, both become highly accomplished professionals, and served with the United Nations for several years before embarking on alternative careers. During this period, my grandparents lived well owing to the continued support and assistance of their children. However, all four passed away before I ever had an opportunity to get to know them well.
My parents speak little of their folks and the difficult life they once lead. Compared to what ‘once was’, their current situation can only be described as a complete turnaround from the uncertainty of the past. On occasion, my grandparents would forego their dinner simply to provide their children with a meagre second helping. They worked and laboured hard throughout much of their life, striving hard to provide their children with benefits they themselves had not been afforded.
Given my own privileged upbringing, comprising of private and international schools and tertiary study, I cannot even begin to understand what life would have been like for my grandparents. Although I can sympathise, empathy is difficult since I have not been in a similar position and ostensibly never will. Looking at my parents, it sometimes appears that they are discomforted by the comfort in their lives. It presents an exceptionally stark contrast to what they once knew, so much so that any act deemed ‘indulgent’ is considered almost sinful. Why buy a novel when you can source the same item from a library? Why ‘eat out’ when significant savings are to be had by dining at home? Why purchase an Omega when a Seiko will suffice?
Despite what I have said above, my parents have absolutely no problem with spending extravagant amounts on their children. As a child, I could very easily have been spoilt had my parents not taught me the importance of money. They both did everything possible to ensure that I had most, if not everything, of what I desired. Every once in awhile, I hope to see them let their hair down, to stop time and just enjoy the moment instead of having work as a 24/7 consideration. They have both done everything possible and achievable in order to ‘survive’, it’s high time that they sought some rest.
The act of survival …. In my view this has to be the greatest singular accomplishment of humankind. If you doubt me, read ‘The Life and Times of Michael K’ – a novel by Coetzee, a Noble Prize winning laureate who is arguably the greatest contemporary author alive (recently emigrated from South Africa to Australia, teaching at the University of Adelaide). Coetzee’s novel is set in a period of civil unrest characterised by anarchy and brutal roaming armies. Michael K, a mentally disabled and impoverished black South African, finds himself an orphan following his mother’s death. Unlike his protagonist counterparts in other fictional novels, Michael does not commence a journey of ‘heroic endeavour’ in the traditional sense of that phrase. Rather, his singular achievement is that he survives in an environment that would break countless others.
‘The Life and Times of Michael K’ is an exceptionally complex novel. If one were to intellectualise it, as is necessary in regarding a work of that calibre, Michael is best described as an extremely marginal figure, disempowered and property-less. In a country torn apart by war, Michael strives hard to find a ‘gap between the fences’, a place to occupy. Being physically weak, Michael has to live off the temporal and material scraps left by the powerful, but his resistance is to use those that the powerful do not realise are there. Everywhere around him, people are laying seeking to lay ‘claim’ to all things capable of being either owned or possessed. In contrast, Michael’s existence is transient in nature. For example, he deliberately builds a home using materials that would be devoured by insects were he to cease tending to it.
Most commentators argue that history is defined by a sense of ‘place’. Being something of a wanderer or drifter, Michael has no claim over the landscape. He is a dispossessed soul, both unable and unwilling to make a mark on the very earth over which he roams. The reader is left with the brutal realisation that were Michael a real person, the imprint of his existence would disappear disturbingly soon after his death.
There are countless thousands like Michael K, but they do not have the luxury of being fictional characters ....
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