The future of the past

The lector was about taking the second reading when I came to Church. All of us the parishioner of Emmanuel Parish waited outside for the reading to end before we were all allowed inside. This is a tradition done in our local churches to avoid distraction during homily.

After the gospel, it was time for offering. My attention was quickly drawn to the little children who was rushing to their parents to collect what they call 'offering.'

Immediately, I was lost in thought, reminiscing how I also collected offering from my Dad.

In my country, giving is one of the essential teachings of the church, hence giving offering is highly encouraged.

Apart from the priest, my Dad taught us that the essence of humanity is to give and he always ensures he gives us money each Sunday.

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I was in the first decade of my life, seven years to be precised. My Dad always ensures we come to Sunday masses early or face some severe consequences.

Today was no exceptions as I have already prepared the previous day to make sure I obey all my parents instructions, afterall we were taught that the only commandment with a promise is 'children obey your parent,' so I have consciously resolved to take all the advice my parents have given me to the last order. In fact, I swore that whenever I'm faced with two decision, I will always go with their thoughts because we were taught to believe that our earthly father cannot harm us.

As I walked down our local church with my sister, I noticed they was a little gathering of children, up to five of them of which I could only recognize just one person.

I walk up to Steve, the only one I knew and tapped him on the back; "what's happening here?" I asked, giving him that look that indicates that I was in a hurry, hurry rushing to church.

"They have been a fight again, between this new albino in our neighborhood" he said as he pointed to the direction the albino was lying. He picked up his tyre and zoomed off. In our neighborhood, children who couldn't afford the luxury of toys resort to making one themselves locally. Afterall, the joy is to entertain ourselves, so tyre riding is one of our locally fabricated toys to keep our joy going on.

Used car tyres are assembled by children, one peddles the tyre with the hands acting as a driver while walking while another holds the supposed driver from behind acting as a passenger. On each successive journey, the passenger pays the driver with a paper they specially designed by themselves. This gives us joy as children. "If you can't beat them, find a way not to envy them" Papa Eme had told us in one of his moonlight tales.

Papa Eme is fond of gathering us at night to share with us the story of his life. His stories is meant to help us in our morality development. I remember the story of the rat who in other to prove a point followed the lizard on a mystic journey. As they were coming back, they was a heavy rain and both couldn't find a place of shelter so they walked in the rain. Few minutes after they got home, the Lizard was dry while the rat was drained and can barely move. "The rat that follows the lizard should be ready to bear the consequences" Papa Eme said as he ended the animal story. The story didn't make sense to me at that time, but as i grew more older, I realized that all Papa Eme was saying is that we shouldn't do things just because others are doing and that we should be careful the kind of friends we keep to avoid bad influence.

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I finally managed and made my way and saw the albino lying down crying. He was ridiculously mocked and disgraced because of his skin colour. In fact, today's case was too bad. Those children in my neighborhood went extra mile by pushing him on the floor. Only God knows if they also have beaten him, but all I knew was that I found him crying and lying on the floor, without help.

This matter is not just about him but about all the albinos living in our community. They are constantly treated with distain and neglect. The colour of their skin has brought such discrimination and untold hardship for them.

I held his hands and lifted him up. By then, I was running late for the Mass and my sister has long left me for she was part of the junior choristers and my Dad will surely deal with her or even me if we dare come to mass late as it was a sin in my community if a priest should enter the church before you- the lay person.

But I couldn't help but first think of humanity. I couldn't think of anything else than to offer help to this kind creation of God.

I walked the abino down the road leading to his house and offered him the little money I had because he lost his money on that incidence, money that was meant for feeding himself and his poor sick mum. I offered my church offering money; he thanked me and I ran off to the church not considering the gravity of what i have done by giving out my offering just like that.

The Mass had ended and on reaching home I was immediately summoned by my Dad and before I could say Jack, he gave me the beating of my life, for not giving my offering in church.

"How on earth will you not give your offering?" he shouted. "Who taught you such behavior, from where did you learn such act?" he continue to beat me without bothering to hear my own part of the story.

That's common to all African parents, they're too quick to use the philosophical 'spear the rod and spoil the child,' so they always resort to destroying both the child and the rod. However, all these acts are not out of wickedness, but out of ignorance, thinking that true discipline entails such acts.

Now, as I sat down in church in my late twenties watching children taking offering from their parents, I was glad I used mine in the service of humanity, afterall the Priest celebrating today's Sunday mass is Rev. fr. Ben- the albino I saved with my offering years back. And I'm happy the discrimination against the albinos is now a thing of the past.