Reflections by Bolutife Oluwadele
Sometimes, we receive instructions that are too general or ambiguous. We interpret them as best we can and act accordingly. Then, out of the blue, we are accused of not following them as intended.
Let us unpack this together. I vividly remember two incidents from my first decade on earth.
I have an uncle of whom I am still very fond. Of all the adults around us while we were growing up, he was one of the few who did not rely solely on punishment to teach or discipline us. Naturally, I gravitated towards him. Although there was one occasion when he had to flog me – a whole story on its own – I still hold him in high regard today.
One Saturday, I accompanied him to the family farm because my father was away in another town attending church synod meetings. He asked me to weed ten rows, and I rushed through the task. When I gleefully announced that I had finished, he told me to continue because we had not yet weeded the entire farm. I was unhappy because I felt short-changed, but I continued nonetheless.
At about 11 a.m., he asked me to go to the hut, get the gourd, and fetch water from the flowing stream. That was significant to me because it suggested that we were about to have our second meal of the day. Back then, for us children, “square meals” meant more than three meals; it meant eating as many times as opportunity allowed.
When I reached the hut, I met another uncle roasting corn and serving it with boiled African walnuts. He gave me a cob. I took it, thanked him, and headed towards the stream.
When I returned to the uncle with whom I had been working, I still had about two rows of kernels left on the cob. He asked where I had got the corn. I explained, “Uncle So-and-so gave it to me.” Since we all belonged to the same extended family, receiving the corn was not a problem in itself.
He then admonished me: “Next time, make sure you inform me when someone gives you something before you eat it.”
I believed I understood the instruction perfectly. Some months later, during the new-yam harvest, something similar happened. I went to fetch water, and another uncle gave me a piece of roasted yam.
I had already taken my first bite when I remembered the earlier instruction. I called out to my uncle in the way we usually communicated across the farm and told him that I had been given some roasted yam.
He replied, “But you have already started eating it.” His response surprised me.
I went to the stream, filled the gourd with water, returned, and rejoined him. He then explained that he could tell from my voice that I had food in my mouth. What he had meant, he said, was that whenever someone gave me something, I should first bring it to him before eating it.
Of course, I protested. That was not the instruction I remembered hearing. I believed he had told me only to inform him.
He retorted, “And you chose to inform me from a distance?”
By then, I was completely confused. Who was right, and who was wrong?
Was the instruction too difficult for a child under ten to understand?
Since I had genuinely forgotten it and remembered only after taking the first bite, was I guilty of disobedience?
Was my obedience partial or complete?
Could I plead ambiguity in my defence? Could forgetfulness be considered a mitigating circumstance, since I had already begun eating before I remembered to inform him?
These and many other questions may arise when we find ourselves in similar situations.
Looking back, I can see that I obeyed the instruction as I understood it, but not necessarily as my uncle intended it. The experience reminds me that effective communication is a shared responsibility: the person giving an instruction should make it clear, while the person receiving it should seek clarification whenever possible.
What would my older self have done differently, even if the instruction had truly been ambiguous?
Have you ever faced a similar situation? How did you navigate it?
What are your thoughts?
©TheVillageBoy.
(The figure man who loves alphabets)
