By Ruth Mahogany
The first time I thought deeply about the phrase ‘beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,’ was during my service year. On that day, I was convinced that many circumstances influence a person’s perception. What we consider beautiful at this moment could absolutely change in a couple of hours.
Serving in Umuahia, I took many weekend trips to Uyo to work with other creatives and perform at shows. It was during one of these trips that my eyes encountered something lovely. As usual, there’s a backstory to the discovery.
‘TKTC park’
I glanced past the sign board and sauntered into the park to board a vehicle. After paying for a ticket, I climbed to the back of an ash-colored Sienna and sat beside a rotund and dark skinned fellow. In a couple of minutes, the vehicle was filled and ready to hit the road.
Before the journey began, the driver explained that he would not drop anyone on the road as the act did not agree with their policy. The Park is not too far into the town so everyone should alight there. We nodded to his statement and the journey began.
Soon after we moved, everyone behind began to toss complaints about the heat in the car. Beads of sweat gathered around my forehead in no time. Someone who could not take it, angrily asked the driver to wind the windows down. He replied that there was nothing he could do about it- it was faulty and he would fix it next time.
There is something about collective suffering. We have the tendency to quickly acclimatize to it and find consolation in the fact that we are not alone. Personal suffering is different- it is your own lot and nobody else might understand.
Soon we all moved on from the heat problem. I mean, the trip was short so what was all the fuss about? The topic on the radio piqued someone’s interest and before you would know it, everyone had something to chip in. Except me of course. At this point, some extra variable had merged with the heat to skew my perception.
The rotund man beside me had putrid breath and would not be quiet. He was excited as he discussed, laughing heartily and talking to everyone across me. Every word he spoke a huge cost to me. Once or twice, he spoke directly to me, asking why I was so silent. I wanted to tell him I was dazed but the words could not find their way out. I just stared at him blankly while he moved on with torturing me with the odor of his words.
The marriage ceremony between halitosis and a poorly ventilated place
The marriage ceremony between halitosis and a poorly ventilated place is not one I would advice anyone to attend. It made a one-hour journey feel like five days. With every sentence he made, I wanted to shrink but when I tried, my size did not budge.
‘TKTC.’ I remember beaming with gratitude when I sighted those letters from afar. I never have believed, that a rusty sign board of a park could be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. At that moment, it was. The sight of it reminded me to give thanks for good ventilation and my sense of smell. My nose was about to receive the gift of fresh air.
The fellow noticed my smile and it seems he thought, ‘one last one before we end this.’ “Ah! Madam,” he said, this time the usual was accompanied with salivary rain. “You are happy we’ve reached ba?