You're Not More Hardworking Than A Labourer - The Brutal Truth About Success

I was about four years old when my mind first hit consciousness; anything prior to that is unmemorable to me till date.

When the bell rang for us kids then in nursery two, we sang this song:

"Some have food but cannot eat.

Some can eat but have no food.

You have food and you can eat.

Glory be to thee, O Lord!"

Followed by this short prayer:

"Father bless this food, O Lord, for Christ's sake. Jesus come and eat, Satan go away, amen.

Don't talk while eating, it's a bad habit, amen!"

Next scene will see me arresting my plate of plantain and eggs or whatever my mom gave me that day!

PRIVILEGE; WHAT'S EVEN SUCCESS:

I've been beaten mercilessly in the past two days on Twitter for a comment I made which, in truth, wasn't necessary for the occasion.

A girl had graduated from medical school with distinctions in all courses and I commented that it's something almost impossible to do in a federal school, insinuating that she had a sort of privilege over those who went to public unis.

It wasn't well received by them online, but I didn't care about that. As a philosopher, my only interest is in what is TRUE, whether it offends or entertains.

---

14-year-old me wouldn't use the transport money my father gave on school days; I'd instead trek and buy puff puff with it whilst trekking home...

Trekking the distance home and munching puff puff, I'd notice some kids about my age, coming back from school just like me, trekking.

They went to govt sec schools, and I ALWAYS saw them every afternoon on that road; come rain or sunlight, they trekked.

I wondered why until one became my friend—Their parents never gave them transport!

That realization was a shocking exposure that exposed me the more.

While I envied kids going home in their mother's cars, some kids just trekked with no provision made for their transport expense like me.

My young teenage life I spent observing the inequalities of this world and understanding that life isn't fair, we aren't playing the same games, and hence we shouldn't read the same rule book.

I saw young out-of-school kids begging in the streets.

Crippled kids, imbeciles, paraplegic children.

I wondered if they could dream to be a doctor like me and if that would even be possible for them—it won't.

Another saddening realization was when I witnessed a friend of mine become crippled after an accident.

A boy like me, in my class, got hit by a lorry on his way to school one morning and he became crippled for life.

It dawned on me then that one could fall out of privilege.

Will he be able to achieve his dreams?

He wanted to be a doctor just like me.

A thing to be resented is the uncaring attitude this world has towards this fact of unequal circumstances.

Some branded idiots call them "excuses", trying to trivialize these facts.

The song I told you we sang in nursery school is a song of the reality of privilege.

All fingers aren't equal.

Whenever you're hungry, know that some have food and money isn't their problem, but they can't eat—perhaps they're sick—and others don't even have food in the same place.

If such is the world, then why do we congratulate success?

I see no difference between that and congratulating tall people for escaping shortness or people who can see for not being blind.

One may talk about might, but I think might isn't potent enough to be considered a factor of success.

Do you have more might than a barrow pusher?

Or are you more hardworking than the labourers of a building?

If you think that they do those jobs because they're dumb, well, how dumb?

The sum of all you know might only exceed that of a labourer by a minute fraction and in some cases it doesn't.

Might, as I see it, is very negligible.

In this world where meritocracy is endorsed by the most privileged, success must be redefined.

We shouldn't just jump up and begin clapping because you won; we should know your journey and your starting point first.

Did you come from nothing or was your dad a millionaire?

I have more grace for the thousandaire who came from nothing than for the billionaire from a millionaire family.

"Oh, but give them their flowers."

Yes, I will give them their flowers, but it will be a very small flower.

Some will get big ones though.

— ProsperThePhilosopher