Hot talks with Coffee

error of commission

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“My home is hot right now as my wife has served me an ultimatum”. he cradled his coffee cup and leaned back into his seat

We all turned towards him.

“Why is that?” Alan one of the coordinators, an elderly man with kind eyes asked.

“She insists my friend has to leave” Ovie replied with a rueful smile.

“Your friend?” Alan prodded

I bit down at the smile tugging on my lips. I did not want anyone to miscontrue the smile. I was smiling because in front of me was an African male caught in a conundrum. Pressed enough yet weighing his masculinity vs vulnerability. I knew what it meant for him to even broach this topic here.

“Yes. My friend has been staying with us for about a month now” Ovie replied

“His wife sent him out of the house and he had no place to go so I offered”

The room was pin-drop silent.

This is one of the things I like about this group. Anyone vulnerable enough to share was allowed to pace themselves.

“They had some challenges which escalated. It led to him leaving the house”

“Must have been serious” stated Asya, an Afghan woman also a member of the team

“what type of issues?” another man sitting across enquired

“He has been job hunting since they came in for about 9 months now. He refused to do the Care job insisting it is beneath him. Also at home he does not help out with the chores or child care”

His wife, a nurse, is the primary provider. When she is at work, he finds it hard to cope with the kids. He pushes her to send the kids to her friends who can look after them while she is at work

“So what does he do then if he is not working?”

“He stays home and sleeps. Some days he buys a day ticket then gets on the bus and simply keeps going round the city. Other times, Parks, beach and City Centre”

“The load became so much for his wife. A few of us even had to come in and intervene yet he refuses to work claiming he is looking for a befitting job”

“He was a big boy back home. Had a very good job and business. That business was sustaining them for sometime though since they came in until it stopped”

“So how did this man end up in your house?”

“He is my childhood friend. Moreso, when we newly arrived, they housed my family – the four of us. It was not convenient yet they sheltered us for about two months”

“And now you are repaying his kindness?”

” Or enabling his poor choices?”

“The thing is I understand him. He is a proud person and even back home, he did not get involved in running the home. He had the money and paid for everything” Ovie waved his hand

“His anger stems from the fact that he feels disrespected by the wife. As his girlfriend, he put her through the University where she studied nursing. He did everything for her including helping her to secure this job before they came over. He made her life so comfortable with all the domestic help she wanted back then and she has not really paid any bills before now”

“Are you for your friend or your wife?”

“What about the inconvenience to your family?”

“What inconvenience? asked Amin a Pakistani “They can all live in peace”.

“Why does your wife want him out then?” Alan raised his hands, taking charge of the meeting as many people began to speak at once

“She claims he is a bad influence. And she resents the fact that he is willing to move out of his home. He does this instead of bending to the realities of this new environment. Besides, it is affecting her friendship with his wife”. Ovie admitted like he was begging us to help

“We are seeing lots of these issues recently. We have also heard that it is a cultural shock of …… and as Alan spoke, my mind drifted. I thought about all the unsavoury stories of struggle coming out of the ethnic minorities group all around.

Immigrant Parenthood: a man’s world

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“You saw how clueless I was when my baby began crying. The women here had to step in and take over. If I was back in Nigeria I would never take a baby out of the house on my own.  said a frazzled ‘deji as he started contributing to the discussion”

The Nigerian in me sensed his panic earlier when his baby began fretting. He kept rocking the buggy to lull the crying child without any success. A British woman tentatively intervened. This caused other women to chip in. Much as I wanted to help, Chemo was being a bitch and getting to that meeting already had me wiped. My need to help my community also to getting out of the house was why I got here.

We were at another of those sessions where the topic was ‘Issues that new arrivals face’. He was one of the volunteers from various communities who had turned up for this meeting. Faces around the table included a range of ethnic minorities alongside the British organisers

“Back home, you would not even get involved in child care because of community. My mom, her mom, sisters, aunties, and even paid domestic help with child care. And I speak for most of our men” he continued while I and the other ethnic minorities nodded

“As doctors, both of us can afford a nanny and a Housekeeper for this baby. But, this is what we get for moving away from the comforts of our homeland. We did this in search of a better life for our children.” This was their first child and his wife had recently resumed after her 9-months’ maternity Leave.

“I understand and that is why I asked to I carry your baby. Although I am British, my husband is Vietnamese. We lived in Vietnam for years. So, I know the culture.” Sharon, the woman who first reached out, smiled. She paced the room while still rocking the quiet baby. That explained a lot for me.

“And it does not end only at childcare but also housework”. ‘deji continued. “These are things an average man, especially one with a good job, would not do back home. But here, you either help out and run the home or there would be trouble because your wife alone can’t cope”

“Of course, she is also struggling. Back home, some of our women, especially those making money, do not even get involved in daily house chores. They simply pay to get it done.” Again, another round of nods as some of the British people looked on in amazement.

“As I looked on at this great divide in the room, I was glad I dragged myself to this meeting. It was a beneficial one to both parties. Your job revolves around #DEI. How can you engage successfully with someone you know nothing about their way of life?

How about the immigrant who has been repeatedly cautioned to be wary of their hosts because of XYZ and ABC? Was it not after all the empowering knowledge of lived experiences? It made Sharon reach out to help a young black father struggling with his distressed baby. Others like her looked on because they did not know which lines to cross.

The aim of these sessions is simple; build a bridge so we draw close enough. Ditch your binoculars, step across across the divide and view the scenery with the other person’s lenses.

The Mental Toll of Relocation: A Child’s Struggle and Emotional Impact

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“My young son shat on himself because someone was in the toilet and he could no longer hold it in” I quipped in a low voice laced with pain as I recalled that incident.

I saw curious surprise on some of the faces in the room. It was a session where the topic was how to help new arrivals integrate into the community. The large divide in the room was so wide. Some of the attendants has never had any interaction with a black person outside of the office. And seemed clueless on anything to do with the BAME community.

“He was filled with so much shame as he stood by the doorway and did not know how to tell me.  It turned out he was trying very hard to contain the remaining poop in his system pending when the bathroom opened up. The stool was loose anyway so I simply made him do it on the floor in the garden, then thereafter washed out the cemented floor with water myself”

This was weeks after we moved out of the hotel into a shared house. I guessed his system was likely in shock of the transition because he had not done Number 2 for a while now. That is usually his system’s response to any unfamiliar environment – shut down from doing Number 2.”

“I know what it took to manage our emotions afterwards. Yes, our emotions. He was sober throughout the day and I realised it was a combination of various emotions – top of which was shame and probably not knowing how I would react”

“Here was a child who had lived a comfortable life so far. Always had his own bathroom and toilet ensuite. Although, we constantly had people live with us, at least he knew it was his own home”.

“Now, he was the one moving into a stranger’s house in a foreign land. Sharing space and facilities alongside sharing a room with his ma. A room smaller than the one he left behind back home. Kid was constantly being reminded to ‘keep it down’ as a simple thing like descending the staircase was termed noisy. .

“In addition to that, it was the onset of winter. Consider that for a child who had transited from the hot weather of Nigeria. See it as plucking you out from the oven and plopping you straight into the freezer with no time to adapt to the room temperature”.

“Anyone here being to Nigeria or the tropics?” I asked the room.

A woman had been to Ghana.

“So you get the idea a bit” I said to the room

“I simply had to sit him down and talk through it. Apologised to him for putting him in such a situation while assuaging him that it was not his fault and it would get better”

“Nevertheless, the only emotion I felt was anger. I was angry with the man in the bathroom. A laid-back man whose attitude carried through even in the way he talked. That man would get into the bathroom and lounge there like it was his living room. A bathroom shared by four people!”

“Several times, we have had to knock on that door while he was in there. I mean we were all in this relocation thing together and putting ourselves through this temporary inconvenience. Emotional intelligence required him to not go into a bathroom which also contained the only toilet in the house and start having a party there”.

“It took quite some effort on my part to calm down and not have a word with him. I knew my circle of control was myself and my son. I had to manage our reactions and that was what I did”

Afterwards, both whites and the #BAME people would come up to thank me for having the gumption to broach that enlightening subject in such a setting. If only I knew the tap I had turned on. More stories coming………

Navigating Anger and Faith: A Candid Conversation on Suffering and God’s Goodness – 2

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…..missed Part 1? here

getting stronger” his plaintive tone cut into me

At some point in the conversation; Ruth stood up to get more coffees and after much insistence from both of them, I agreed to a Cappuccino.

Although it had begun to rain on a day with a sunny forecast, my stomach roiled at the thought of another coffee. I have already had a latte and a mocha within an hour of arriving at camp. What I craved now was some steaming food. Yet, my Social Intelligence prevailed.

“My grouse is from the fact that God can disallow this from happening yet he chooses not to. I mean look at the Holy Spirit and his exploits, have you seen him move and seen the things he can do? he remarked resignedly

“I totally get you”. I replied. Like I said earlier; I moved from anger to gratitude as I realised that if he had let me die, he would have still been God. When my friends lost their 25-year old daughter recently, the first thing I felt was

“That should have been me and it is so not fair. I mean I had cancer. This girl was barely in the hospital before she died! I had some kind of guilt not knowing how to relate to them. I still have a mental picture of my friend coming down to Portsmouth to see me during Chemo. They attended the graduation up North and she came all the way to see me and even spent the night. Yet, here I am and her daughter who recently graduated is gone. What can we say then to these things?”

“My mentor says peace comes from acceptance, not knowledge” he remarked

“True that” I concurred

“All I know is that God can tackle our questions and feelings. He clearly gave us a front row seat to see how it played out when his heroes cried out – Elijah, Jonah, Jeremiah & even the Job they throw in our faces, also did cry out.

“Even Paul who was given a heads-up during conversion about his impending sufferings still cried out. God did not rebuke but offered him grace. And I amara relate to him from a place of sonship instead of slavery. All these God-handlers who are laundering his image for him are doing more harm than good. If I cannot keep it real with my father, how then can I minister to someone else who is confused and comes to me? We cannot all be like David who picked up himself after crying and moved on”

This was the only point that Ruth chipped in jocularly with “by the way did you notice they were all men crying?”

“Oh, David had his vulnerable moments too. A whole lot all through the Psalms. Maybe that was what earned him the man after God’s own heart” Peter opined

We chatted some more and thanking them for my coffee; I stood up then with a wry smile noted “by the way you are in the prayer team” pointing to his purple wristband worn by those who pray for others

“He has been trying to hide it” His wife reached over to pull his sleeves lower

“I am” he grinned. “But I still got my questions”

Navigating Anger and Faith: A Candid Conversation on Suffering and God’s Goodness

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The man who sat across from me stood up and nodded his goodbye. Ruth, the woman beside me, went back into her book. Earlier when I walked over, she had offered a warm smile and we had started talking. Found out she was another Brit who had lived in Nigeria. She was here with her husband and their former church family and they drove over from Cardiff to Shepton Mallet .

Burrowing further into the warm sofa, I retreated into my cocoon. My phone was back at the tent and there was nothing to do but soak in this stillness.

Soon enough he walked over carrying a bowl of food with coffee and she did the introductions. Peter was his name. Then we got talking.

“Amara, can I ask?” he shifted closer to me

I arched an eyebrow at him and saw his wife smiling.

“You spoke about how you moved through the spectrum in your cancer journey from anger to gratitude and now at ease with God. Do you still get angry at him?

I smiled.

“Sometimes. Even yesterday I was”.

“Well, I am currently very angry with God. Not for myself but I am lamenting over the pain and sufferings all around. I am 62 and probably should not be saying this but that is right where I am now”

I threw back my head and guffawed enough to draw some glances

“Why are you laughing?” he asked

“Do you remember those guys I was with at that table when I left you earlier? I looked at his wife. She nodded. “we talked about lamentations and how to respond to trials. So I find it funny that twice in one evening, I am meeting two different sets of people at a Christian event talking about lamentations”

“What did you guys talk about?” the husband inquired of me

I gave him a summary.

“Well, I am also there right now and I refuse to be shamed with the picture of Job. I have been talking to a pastor mentor of mine and this morning we still had this conversation. He tells me it is okay to be vulnerable and mad at God that he can handle it”

“Precisely my point!” I pumped the air I like your mentor already

“I must start by saying he is a good God, he does not do bad things yet he allows it and that is my grouse with him” Peter remarked.

“We just lost a friend of ours. She was 57 and she died of …..he stalled a bit and looked at me apologetically…I smiled because I somehow seemed to know what was coming…”cancer”

I nodded

“She was a believer. Had so much faith and trust. We all had these prayers going on for her and yet God called her home. We just buried her

“Another friend, a pastor, lost his 17-year old son recently to cancer. He was a jolly kid who loved the Lord and people. We all hoped he was going to make it. Right now, his father is losing it. He does not want to hear anything about God while his mother’s faith is ……….. Part 2

Embracing Vulnerability: Reimagining the Relationship with God in Trials – 2

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Did you miss Part 1? Here.

 

……that God left us examples of people who cried out as they struggled;

  • Elijah
    Jonah
    Jeremiah

“All these men despaired enough to voice their grievances. Yet God stooped down to engage and assuage each one”

“Why did he not get angry enough to shush them up and make them be big boys and deal with it themselves? 

He sent Elijah food. Built Jonah a shade from the scorching sun. If the manufacturer of a product realises how tiring it can get for his creatures and their need for support during trials who are we to ask them to suck it up?”

I looked around the table as all 8 pairs of eyes glued on me

“I throw tantrums because I am a child and he is my father. That is the basis of our relationship. I am not his hired help who would tiptoe stoically around him and then go back and complain to others. If I have an issue with his parenting style, then he has to hear how I feel”

“That is an interesting angle” Bill replied with a tinge of a smile curving his lips while Phil slumped back and picked up his coffee cup

“Yes. If you are my father then based on our relationship, I should be able to get away with some privileges. If I ask questions of you or challenge your decisions, you are not going to disfather me, are you?”

“Nonetheless, while you can take that from me at home, if your staff at the office who happens to be my age mate throws a similar tantrum, would you respond to her like to me?”

I saw comprehending nods

“I am tired of Christians shutting up others over how to relate to God. It is like someone coming into your house and critiquing your parenting style. I mean, out there on the streets some stranger might take that liberty but not when you come into my house would you dare”

“That is exactly what we do when we tell others how to respond to God during their trials. I’m not sure which god is in contention here, but my father-God is a big boy who can handle his daughter’s tantrums. He does not require his staff to tell him or his daughter how to relate to each other”

“I also think we stifle vulnerability in the church and make people become robots. How can those who are without or new arrivals even relate if we keep telling them that this kingdom is ruled by a dictator?

“Is he not?”

“He may be an autocrat but not a despot”

“Even despots still put up with their children and I think parents always have a thing for that child with the rebellious streak who stands up to them” The professor smiled as we all stood.  

Embracing Vulnerability: Reimagining the Relationship with God in Trials

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Public Relations =  the stealth art of making something/someone appear presentably acceptable to the eyes of others. [amara nnaji 2024]

 It was the evening of the first day of #newwineunited24.   A  Christian camping festival in England held weekly every summer.   2024 has attracted 14k worshippers of all ages across the Globe.

My church family arrived early and all hands came together to unpack and pitch our tents. With nothing else to do than watch other campers set up,   my feet went exploring.  This was my first time at the Shepton Mallet campground and I like knowing my environment.

 

My eyes saw the Food court then my legs followed.  After settling for a Greek Gyro, I went into the centre housing the bookshop and another  charity I recognised from last year where a Cafe had also been set up.  The coffee queue was lengthening.

Food in hand, I nestled into a sofa by the corner which had two others sitting around.  I was enjoying the quiet.

Then I saw them walk to a table with their coffee cups.  My people.

I went to join them and eventually, the conversation steered.

“Lamentations” Bill said tentatively.  We all turned towards his voice. Bill had driven into camp after we set up and was unpacking his tent before I stepped out

“I want to know the place of Lamentations in the Bible. How do you respond to God or react when you are stuck deep down in mire” he spread his hands 

“How do you mean? Phil sat up straighter.  He was the oldest of us chronologically and I have come to know that he was also knowledgeable in the faith

“I am in this Christian group where someone posted his rage at God about all he has been going through. Then another  responded with James 1:2. which says count it all joy”

“I am pretty confused myself because I am currently going through one of the worst periods of my life and I am torn between being real and telling God how I feel and chinning up,  he elaborated

At that instant, my admiration for Bill soared.  Here was this man’s man being as vulnerable as a child

“I think everyone goes through stuff.   However, my issue with some people is stopping to pitch camp and throw a party while going through the valley of the shadow of death” Phil remonstrated

“So does that mean we have no recourse to talk to God? I am against such belief and tired of having people guilt trip me for wanting to express myself”

“I do not have much to say on this theology especially as I am new in my faith walk” said Gem the professor who only recently reconnected with her faith 

Chewing my Gyro, I bit a smile into the insides of my cheek.

“You must keep your rebel thoughts to yourself amara and not pollute others” I chided me.  Aware of how unconventional some of my own beliefs are, I limit expression to certain circles only. Although plodding through the terrain of cancer has made me care more about using my voice than assuaging people’s emotions.

“Well, look at Job. He was a perfect example for us and I think we all know that irrespective of whatever, God is good” Phil remarked again. 

And that was when I stopped chewing my cheeks. Enough of Church people and this ‘Job perfect picture’.  Here was a male in his 50s, man enough to discard his male pride cloak and reach out for help.  I was not going to simply sit down and allow another person spring the boys don’t cry crap.  Besides, the issue here was not God’s goodness.

“I am not a Job person”. I piped in

All eyes turned to me.

“I used to be a Job-follower.  Moreso, I grew up among Muslims so I know about fatalism, stoicism and all that crap about not crying out while being flogged”

“Nevertheless, I am super grateful that …….part 2