July 31st 2009

    Okanya would point at a dust devil to ensure it minded its own business.  There was no epithet or incantation, merely a brief moment of silence, followed by an understanding that we were then safe to watch as these creatures marked a brief and exciting presence in our imagination.  Neither he nor I had any doubt they were living things of uncertain origin and possessed of uncertain motives.

    So it was odd to be laughed at when I once adopted Okanya's stance and manner to protect fellow school mates from a dust devil on the playing field at boarding school.  The fight that followed ended in the masters room, and probably my bloody nose drew a sympathy sufficient to preclude further punishment.

    In earlier days I was possessed of horrible stubbornness, and sometimes I wonder if that element still dominates the thing that is me.  Now and then I search for exemplars of this offensive nature.   Often I find a lack of finesse and subtlety combined with dogmatic insistence on matters even I accept as trivial.  Which makes me wonder how I might appear on matters that contain value to me.

     It is an uncomfortable contemplation of self.  I see the "I that is me" raging toward an unfinished and incomprehensible victory.  To engage myself, I have sometimes listened to debate amongst the political class, there I have found some comfort amongst that mist of conviction in others.  More recently however, I find myself silently pointing at it.

tim candler

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