In Search of the Good Man
If you are as old as I am (which is not very old but old enough) you will have probably come to the same conclusion as I have; that "good" people are extremely hard to come by. By "good", I am talking about those rare beings who will do something out of purely altruistic motives, without a tinge of benefit for themselves. Without seeking even the slightest recognition and when inadvertently they get recognized, recoil from the limelight, choosing to continue doing good in their own diligent but obscure manner.
There are those who will argue like Adam Smith that such people are not desirable as they distort the natural order of the economic balance. As he once wrote "greed is good". And to a large extent, our society is structured to reward the greediest, of course shrouding the "greedy" disposition under various less offensive monikers such as "ambition", "goal getting" and so on. To be completely and utterly altruistic, you will have to be insane.
It was therefore refreshing early this year when I witnessed an event that went some way towards convincing me that there still exist some people willing to discard and even forego their immediate and most natural inclinations towards self appeasement to help out another member of the human species. A collective coming together of the human species to lift one of their own even above the individual stations of the parts that comprised the collective. The reason it left a big impression on me, is that such behavior does not come natural. In fact it is out of keeping with our natural and base inclinations.
Take for example the "valiant" Don Quixote De La Mancha from Cervantes' classic of that very name. A man who is convinced that he is the heavenly appointed righter of wrongs, defender of widows, orphans and those who have been unjustly trampled on. He does not hesitate to fling himself into a dangerous battle with windmills, (which he mistakes for giants with huge flailing limbs) and without a second thought launches himself into a manic attack against the windmills, all in the name of serving fellow man. In another episode, he valiantly faces a lion (although thank God it turned the animal was a tamed circus lion) all in the name of defending the defenseless. Yet for all of this, Don Quixote is dismissively regarded as a mad man, a retatrd and treated as one.
Despite the evident comic nature of the story and its near unbelievable descriptions, it shows that being a useful member of society requires one to forego, to varying extents, their natural and individualistic tendencies in the view of the common good. Although I hasten to say that "common good" will stand for different things depending on the time, place and who is present. A frustratingly shifty and slippery target.
All this rant about altruism and good without expecting anything in return, was occasioned by a wedding in Chongwe earlier this year. It was as simple as a wedding can be.There was no lavishly decorated hall for the reception but simply the freshly swept yard sprinkled with water to keep the dust down. Some meat was boiling in a huge drum in one corner of the yard, while some traditional brew "munkoyo" was being served liberally having been prepared some days earlier. Some Soul Brothers music was playing to which two boys where dancing in the middle of what was slowly becoming a circle. The boys were later joined by some elders.
An empty drum was brought on which stood the Master of Ceremonies as he bellowed joke after joke sounding more drunk with every passing minute. It all culminated in the bride and groom joining the procession. The groom was first to arrive on the scene, wearing a brown suit with brown shoes. you could just make out his black hands which were contrasting with his face which had turned a burnt reddish pink. Someone close to me remarked " wamene uyu ni ozola" (the groom has bleached his skin).
There was was no flashy limousine or SUV to ferry the bride from one of the huts. This function was carried out by a group of fiercely ululating women who covered the bride in some Chitenge and with much ululation and vigorous waist wriggling brought her to join the groom underneath some hastily mounted tent. A cake was cut coupled with more ululating while the Master of Ceremonies by this time was shouting himself hoarse.
Life has a way of throwing some humbling experience when you least expect it. What followed left a deep impression on my mind and reminded me that despite the culture clashes that are often played out during social functions such as weddings and funerals. there are certain aspects of African culture that are deeply ingrained in our ethos of communal leaving. Having been pronounced man and wife, it was time for the relatives to dish out pieces of advice on how the two could make their marriage successful. I watched as speaker after speaker stood up to say a few words but not before they had made a monetary donation to the couple. Before long the advice had graduated to outright challenges among the relatives to see who would donate more money. Cousins, Uncles, grandparents and whoever felt like joined in.
At the end of it all, I was asked to count the money, following someone mentioning that I worked in a bank. When I totaled the figures, I was staggered. This group of villagers, this motley mixture of ululating women, men with wrinkled jackets and brown teeth, this collection of heavily perspiring women and men had managed to raise close to a twenty thousand Kwacha for one of their own. Most of them would die without holding even half of that amount any given time, but through these contributions had managed to help one of their own.
I confided in an elderly man beside me, who had approached me to ask for a lift to Lusaka, the fact that I was most impressed with the collective altruism shown by the group. Clearly proud of his own part he turned to me and said, he didn't even know the couple that well, may never even eat nshima from their place, but it gave him immense pleasure to have helped in setting up their home. Now there is a good man neh!
There are those who will argue like Adam Smith that such people are not desirable as they distort the natural order of the economic balance. As he once wrote "greed is good". And to a large extent, our society is structured to reward the greediest, of course shrouding the "greedy" disposition under various less offensive monikers such as "ambition", "goal getting" and so on. To be completely and utterly altruistic, you will have to be insane.
It was therefore refreshing early this year when I witnessed an event that went some way towards convincing me that there still exist some people willing to discard and even forego their immediate and most natural inclinations towards self appeasement to help out another member of the human species. A collective coming together of the human species to lift one of their own even above the individual stations of the parts that comprised the collective. The reason it left a big impression on me, is that such behavior does not come natural. In fact it is out of keeping with our natural and base inclinations.
Take for example the "valiant" Don Quixote De La Mancha from Cervantes' classic of that very name. A man who is convinced that he is the heavenly appointed righter of wrongs, defender of widows, orphans and those who have been unjustly trampled on. He does not hesitate to fling himself into a dangerous battle with windmills, (which he mistakes for giants with huge flailing limbs) and without a second thought launches himself into a manic attack against the windmills, all in the name of serving fellow man. In another episode, he valiantly faces a lion (although thank God it turned the animal was a tamed circus lion) all in the name of defending the defenseless. Yet for all of this, Don Quixote is dismissively regarded as a mad man, a retatrd and treated as one.
Despite the evident comic nature of the story and its near unbelievable descriptions, it shows that being a useful member of society requires one to forego, to varying extents, their natural and individualistic tendencies in the view of the common good. Although I hasten to say that "common good" will stand for different things depending on the time, place and who is present. A frustratingly shifty and slippery target.
All this rant about altruism and good without expecting anything in return, was occasioned by a wedding in Chongwe earlier this year. It was as simple as a wedding can be.There was no lavishly decorated hall for the reception but simply the freshly swept yard sprinkled with water to keep the dust down. Some meat was boiling in a huge drum in one corner of the yard, while some traditional brew "munkoyo" was being served liberally having been prepared some days earlier. Some Soul Brothers music was playing to which two boys where dancing in the middle of what was slowly becoming a circle. The boys were later joined by some elders.
An empty drum was brought on which stood the Master of Ceremonies as he bellowed joke after joke sounding more drunk with every passing minute. It all culminated in the bride and groom joining the procession. The groom was first to arrive on the scene, wearing a brown suit with brown shoes. you could just make out his black hands which were contrasting with his face which had turned a burnt reddish pink. Someone close to me remarked " wamene uyu ni ozola" (the groom has bleached his skin).
There was was no flashy limousine or SUV to ferry the bride from one of the huts. This function was carried out by a group of fiercely ululating women who covered the bride in some Chitenge and with much ululation and vigorous waist wriggling brought her to join the groom underneath some hastily mounted tent. A cake was cut coupled with more ululating while the Master of Ceremonies by this time was shouting himself hoarse.
Life has a way of throwing some humbling experience when you least expect it. What followed left a deep impression on my mind and reminded me that despite the culture clashes that are often played out during social functions such as weddings and funerals. there are certain aspects of African culture that are deeply ingrained in our ethos of communal leaving. Having been pronounced man and wife, it was time for the relatives to dish out pieces of advice on how the two could make their marriage successful. I watched as speaker after speaker stood up to say a few words but not before they had made a monetary donation to the couple. Before long the advice had graduated to outright challenges among the relatives to see who would donate more money. Cousins, Uncles, grandparents and whoever felt like joined in.
At the end of it all, I was asked to count the money, following someone mentioning that I worked in a bank. When I totaled the figures, I was staggered. This group of villagers, this motley mixture of ululating women, men with wrinkled jackets and brown teeth, this collection of heavily perspiring women and men had managed to raise close to a twenty thousand Kwacha for one of their own. Most of them would die without holding even half of that amount any given time, but through these contributions had managed to help one of their own.
I confided in an elderly man beside me, who had approached me to ask for a lift to Lusaka, the fact that I was most impressed with the collective altruism shown by the group. Clearly proud of his own part he turned to me and said, he didn't even know the couple that well, may never even eat nshima from their place, but it gave him immense pleasure to have helped in setting up their home. Now there is a good man neh!
Perhaps not many humans are moved by the plight of another these days and more so for us Africans who are known to appreciate and uplift each other.
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