I wonder why she thought of me in the first place, because we weren’t friends at the time, we were just course mates.
According to her, there was a village nearby with kids and adults who lacked basic amenities, and her own way of supporting them was taking food items to them. To me, it was a brilliant idea, so we started planning.
We had to raise funds to buy the food items to take to the village, and then, I told my friend to try to visit the village head to discuss our intentions with them. I thought it would be wrong to barge into the village and start distributing food items.
The one-week campaign earned us a lot of money and we even had people donate food items too. We could smell the success of the day already.
Prior to then, I had no experience with community services. I had a sedentary lifestyle that I was never close with people that think around volunteering or community service. So, it was an experience I looked forward to.
On the D-day, we set out to the village. We had hired a bus, filled it with the food items that we’ve packed in nylons for individuals, and about five of us set out on the journey.
We got to the village, and we headed straight to the village head’s palace. He was an almost frail man, but still strong enough to give us a very good admonition and prayers for thinking of helping the village people. His lips parted into a beautiful smile when he talked, and his almost weak smile was so beautiful.
While we were with him, he had sent for the chiefs in the village. So, they came too, prayed, and collected their own specially packed items before we finally headed to the village square.
According to the village head, we would need to wait a bit because all the villagers had gone to their farms and would start heading back in about thirty minutes. So, we waited.
While waiting, the first woman that returned from her farm came directly at us, and said in a strong, scary and commanding tone in her local language, “the village head had informed us about your coming, however, we do not welcome you in this village. As you can see, we are not all that hungry. We can fend for ourselves we do not need help from ritualists like you.”
Before we know it, the villagers had started gathering and were murmuring, “Yes, we do not want you, go with your food item. We are not hungry”.
Confused, we looked at one another, and thought of what we could do. None of us knew how to handle the situation. The villagers do not speak English, so, we had to convince them in the dialect they understand that we were not ritualists. So, the struggle began.
The village head and chiefs already collected their share, so, why were the villagers proving hard, I thought. Well, I got started with the admonition in Yoruba language, first pleading with them, and then, telling them we were students who only wanted to help, and that we were not even that rich to start with. We had people contribute so we could show up.
After a lot of back and forth, the grandma finally collected her share, and all the other villagers followed suit.
I wasn’t mad because of the way they reacted, I was just mad that the world has gotten so bad that people find it hard to receive help from well-meaning individuals.
I’ve engaged in more community services after, and I enjoyed every bit of it. The fact that I could use my voice to convince people, students and adults alike, makes me feel so good.
Even though I’m on break from community service, I look forward to doing it again, soon.
Images are mine.
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