"you exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you"
VP Kamala Harris knew what she was talking about with this one; on lineage, family and destiny
For many, there will come a day when you realise that no matter how unique and indifferent you believe yourself to be, you are a product of your lineage. It is both humbling and freeing to come to terms with and in a way, we start to see life playing out the way it always would, stripping us of the control we hold on to so dearly. It will become increasingly evident that no matter how hard we try to change it, some things will always be determinable.
We talked about names at dinner, particularly the many names we as Nigerians tend to have. As is custom with Igbos, one of mine was gifted to me by my grandfather, and the name chosen translates to “the one who will look after me.” It’s at this point in the essay that I find myself questioning, “Do English/western names have meaning?” It seems an ignorant ask, but put down the pitchforks and let me elaborate. Of course, all names and words in modern English must originate from somewhere and thus inherently ‘have meaning.’ I am more so asking if that meaning is as prevalent and apparent to those people when such a name is picked. It’s important to note here that the meaning of most non-Western names can only hold so much weight to someone who doesn’t speak the language, as nuances are often lost in translation. I bring this up because I usually find that others dismiss the notion as an entirely whimsical or frivolous idea, perhaps a remnant of old times where the ‘little things’ meant more. Of course, all parents, or relatives, have hopes and dreams for their children. But, I think there is something so beautiful about cultures where they root such hopes so intentionally, almost as if to make the path that must be forged easier for the child. Nonetheless, I digress. I, for one, smiled as he retold that story, but it wasn’t until later in the week that I became captivated by this idea of lineage.
It was the end of the night, and I had accompanied him (my grandfather) to an event in which he was a special guest and ribbon cutter, and on our way out, we embarked on what others would call an Irish goodbye. Each new person we met meant another discussion, inevitably leading to more stories about my grandfather and his side quests, which is how we found ourselves speaking to a kind Zimbabwean man about construction. Towards the end of the conversation, he faces me and says, “It’s nice to see you here looking after your grandfather” (he doesn’t know I begged to be there).
How quickly the seemingly irrelevant becomes all-encompassing. It took me all but three seconds to tell him how proud I was to do just that and how my name had prophesied as much. There’s a sense of accomplishment that comes with fulfilling an expectation. It’s different from that felt when you achieve something of material or immediate value, like passing a test or completing one of the many milestones imposed on you in the name of ageing. We all marvelled at the coincidence, how could he have known that this was my name ? This wasn’t a case of confirmation bias, I have always taken a greater interest in my grandfather and his many stories. How could I not when his friends range from Nobel Laureates and UN members, with stories taking place in every corner of Africa. In that moment, I had never been so proud to be a descendant of his. If I had ever felt lacking in purpose, this experience would rid me of such notions.
A week beforehand, my mother found an old diary of hers. The entries were some of the funniest I’ve ever heard. While filled with humour and amusement, they were also beautiful and clearly the product of talent. Before that morning, I had never thought to ask where I got my love for writing, but it became evident that it lay deep within my genealogy. After all, my grandfather, her father, has published several books and still writes weekly columns. They both have a fantastic way with words so I can only attribute the belief that my talents were solely my own to my ego. I played the piano, and so did she. I used to sing, and so did she. We’re both quick and sharp with our words when we want to be. So why, until now, have I been blinded by the allure of ‘individualism’ when, in reality, I emulate almost all aspects of the people who made me?
Talents aren’t the only things embedded in our DNA. More often than not, after witnessing me on the phone with my dad, friends will say, “You two are the exact same person.” They’re right, of course; it would be silly to think that the effects of DNA are restricted to the physical. I often call myself his ‘translator.’ Most times, I know exactly what he means to say when others don’t because I understand him in ways I cannot explain. This is possible only because I have committed countless days to understanding myself fully. I don’t shy away from being my parents' child; I happily open my heart and hands to the many lives they’ve lived, which are undoubtedly playing out in my own as we speak. The transference of these experiences and truths is not limited to those whose blood runs in my veins but to the people I’ve been surrounded by. Whether you like it or not, we will always be affected by others.
It is common, I think, to rebuke the ‘bad’ traits and covet the ‘good,’ with some people going as far as to deny their lineage entirely. I do not have the hubris to speak as though I know everyone’s situational context, and I am, of course, not speaking about extremely toxic or abusive situations. When it comes to acknowledging why we are the way we are, and who helped mould us, radical acceptance needs to be at the forefront. To me, this means being at peace with yourself and your circumstances in their entirety. Often when I explain this to others, they misconstrue acceptance with celebration. Accepting emotions, traits, or characteristics one may consider ‘bad’ or ‘worse’ does not mean I’m proud of them, only that I am aware of them and choose to exist happily in spite of them. I do not demonise myself for things I cannot change, and I reinforce growth in all aspects of my life. In the end, it’s whatever works for you. Acceptance does not mean forcing relationships or erasing the past; it only means you’re at peace with the current state of reality.
In a capitalistic society that promotes individualism, it is no wonder we tend to view ourselves as standalone characters, think ‘main character energy’ and ‘NPCs.’ However, we would be doing ourselves a great misfortune if we strayed too far from the idea of community and I mean community in its rawest form. Of course, you are your own person, and you are as brilliant as you are unique, but we exist with each other, and there’s no denying that. We’ve been taught to prioritise our ‘uniqueness’ and value our self expression above all else, but in reality you can only be so different and original. We are constantly working off each other and building on the work of others, and there is nothing wrong with that. It’s why no matter how repetitive or mundane, trends are cyclical and ideas come back into fashion. It would be extremely difficult to truly be ‘unique’. So it may be a reach, but I believe the more we forget about ‘those who came before us’ and the communities that raised us, the faster we stray from practising true empathy. Not only that but as long as we refuse to self-reflect and practice self-acceptance, our empathetic abilities will be capped. How can one be truly empathetic if one can’t do the same for oneself?
So yes, as Vice President Kamala Harris said “ [ you did not] fall out of a coconut tree because you exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you”.
Hey guys, (and an extra Hi to the new subscribers). I had to take a little break from writing because life got so busy. I started a new job, so I’m a corporate girl for at least the next year and I’ve still got to deal with some stuff at uni and just general life things. But I wasn’t just going to disappear into the night, hence this little essay. Personally, I think it’s a bit all over the place / full of tangents, but I really wanted to write something about the thoughts my grandfather and family inspired because they are one of a kind.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed and see you next week.