IT'S AFRICAN TIME!

 IT'S AFRICAN TIME!

"There is no hurry in Africa!" I find the aforementioned statement to be utterly offensive to say the least. What, are we Africans not time conscious? The worst thing is that this African time narrative generates from our own tounges, making it more lethal, as well as a self-fulfilling prophesy. How about this statement that reads, "Take your sweet time, under the African sun." Eish! I blame the persons that came up with these retarded catch phrases. It is no wonder the continent is set backward, because we do not value our precious time. On the contrary, the European man is always quick to say, "Time is money", and that is why he most always has the money.

I had an old friend who fit right in to this African time mentality. Whenever we would make plans to meet up, it would take her at least two more hours to officially arrive at the venue, much to my distress. Moreover, when she finally arrived, she would laugh out loud and say, "Sorry my dear. You know how I operate on African time," as an apology for keeping me waiting on her like her house manager. Her blazé attitude for time was such a problem for me, so much so that I developed the habit of scheduling any meetings with her at least two hours in advance, just so that she would arrive in time, and not keep me waiting in the wings. I know that it would have been best for me to discard her for being a chronic late comer.

Nonetheless, here in Africa, it would seem a trivial matter, for one to toss away a long-time friendship over something minute as lateness. Normally we relinquish suspected witches and warlocks but not an incurable laggards, for that would be deemed by many to be petty. Needless to say, I am not perfect either. In fact I do have my African time moments, yet this lady friend took the cake together with its cream when it came to not keeping time.

Additionally, even in our private or public functions, you will hear an overzealous, yet underpaid master of ceremony make crass remaks such as, "Let's not operate on African time people!" I swear, if offense was a thieving bastard, then I would be its poster child, stealing everything from these ungrateful souls, including their sweet time. Anyhow, then the ignorant statement above made by the insensible emcee, would be followed by a roar of laughter, as if to confirm that indeed we are time wasters.

How I wish that I was born in those days, when our forfathers would just close their eyes and inhale the acrid smell in the air, before they could cough up the precise time of the day naturally. Our ancestors would awake up at dawn, having planned for the day's journey ahead of time, follow the sunrise to a tee, keep the pace of the hours, and be back from their safari right on time. Keep in mind that this was before the invention of the clock. Nonetheless, ever since the White Man's education became important to us, most of us can no longer tell time, let alone keep it.

However, my issue of time is not without a backstory to it. I do not know why but those analog clocks we love to hang against our walls at home, have been a serious cause of my persistent annoyance, and troubled childhood. Everytime I see one big old cloak hanging in someone's space, I immediately revert back to those painful memories of being whipped in school, for not being able to tell the time on the clock. It was bad enough that I still could not accurately tell time even at the age of ten, it was worse when my then mathematics teachers compounded my confusion, by introducing military time in my hearing, before I could master the normal time sequence.

Consequently, let us just say that it was a hard lesson for me to have learnt, and leave the rest for my local pastor, to spiritually deal with both my mental and emotional wounds. Anway, by the time I was a teeneger, this time thing, together with the subject of mathematics began to sink in slowly into my brain. I was finally able to tell time, yet only in the English language. Unfortunately for me, being multilingual proved to be very challenging, because time is told differently in different languages, though it remains the same.

Normally, the White man is meticulous about his time. He ensures that everything is done, not only on point, but also in time. He wagers that since he has only twenty four hours of the day, then he should make those hours count for something. That is why he works night and day, to ensure the fulfilment of a goal. I on the other hand take half of the responsibility and leave the rest to my societal upbringing. I mean, I have been indocrinated to having an eight hour beauty sleep, in order for my body to function on an optimal level. Beauty sleep is a sermon I imbibed since childhood, because television and those bourgois magazines said so.

Yet, not so for the white man, who  sleeps only when he breaks forth into success. Therefore, while I was busy sleeping, my fellow counterpart was churning yarn into gold. Nobody told me that I could work deep in the night, that there were non rules, that sleep was only meant for the hard workers. Indeed, ignorance is not blissful at all. As a matter of fact, being ignorant is a plague which affects one's prosperity in the worst way. Now that I slept through half of my lifetime on this earth, I figure that it is time to put in the work of recovering my timely years with hard work.

So, there you have it folks. As much as time and tide waits for no man, this rule may be an exception to Africans, where every time is tea time. As for me, I have personally made peace with the fact that I cannot change the African time mentality, even if I wanted to, but I will not allow it to derail me either.