I love going all the way to the SONEL office to pay my bills. I love it now more than I did. For obvious reasons, which you may have guessed already, it has something to do with the fact that SONEL has made the process a lot more democratic by introducing mobile money and Express Union payment solutions. And so those long, interminable moments of standing in slow queues have been cut down drastically. Sometimes I spend less than 3 minutes there.
But it also has to do with the fact that sometimes, or should I say most times, I just love going all the way there for the sake of human interaction. And so I ditch MoMo. A friend who was visiting me once noticed that I dashed to the store in the morning to buy a roll of toilet paper. He asked me why I didn’t buy more and keep at home.
Believe me, I am very familiar with the housekeeping economics of bulk buying. But like I said, I take pleasure in these little trips to the store for the joy of frequent human interaction and I don’t mind losing the 1,000frs I could have saved if I had bought tissue in bulk.
But if were honest, my penchant for these little trips to the store has more to do with me chatting up Vanessa, the pretty girl working the counter. I’ve been on her case for a while now and I haven’t been able to crack a hole in that particular dam yet; although recently a series of events seem to point to the fact that a favourable wind is about to blow my way.
But that’s a story for another day.
I may have mentioned SONEL in my intro but the truth is, it has very little to do with my reflections of today. It just merely sets the stage for the things I want to talk about. Stay with me.
Now, in the past when there were still long, slow queues full of grumbling customers with screwed faces looking like old women forced to chew aloe vera, I noticed there was a category of people who were exempt from standing in the queue. They could just waltz in and cut the lines right in front of the teller. This category is made of school children, pregnant women/women carrying babies, old papas and old mamas, and (believe it or not) service men and women in uniform.
That’s right people, a policeman, a gendarme or an ‘army’ (lmao) could walk right in and cut the line with the silent approval of most people and pay his bill before me who had been waiting in line for an hour. Don’t forget that I said all this happened with the silent approval of most of the waiting customers.
I remember a funny incident when a security guard from one of these waifish security companies (Lion Security I think it was) tried to cut the line and was met with a disparaging vitriol. Apparently the unspoken rule doesn’t apply to all servicemen in uniform, haha.
I remember remarking rather cynically to a young lady in front of me, whose disapproval had been particularly loud that the poor guy wore a uniform and just like the policeman who had cut the line 10 minutes before, should have the privilege of being able to do so as well.
« Mon frère, il y’a uniforme et uniforme. » She replied. Archbishop Desmond Tutu said the most memorable thing I can remember about leadership. Talking about Mandela as a leader, he said “to be a leader is to serve, to suffer and to sacrifice.”
It is on the basis on that quote that most times I believe we are walking on our heads in this country. Now, while I strongly believe that not everyone is born a leader, many of us find ourselves (unfortunately?) in positions of authority and leadership. And until we understand as a people that being in position of leadership means washing the feet of everyone else and pulling them forward is the right thing to do, then we may as well push 2035 to 3035.
How on God’s green earth do you explain how a you policeman in his 30s whose mission is to serve and protect his community would walk into a crowded SONEL office and people will approvingly let him cut the line because he is ‘un homme en tenue’?
Many might argue with me that by virtue of his job, he is rendering service to the nation. And me, what I am doing? Planting yam in the clouds?
Folks, I could be a little lenient with my criticisms if I could see real evidence of this service. I’m not talking about the traffic police picking up a piece of stone by the road to draw up a “constat” after an accident or coming to the site of the robbery two hours after the perpetrators have fled. I am talking real service, like the police commissioner coming into the neighbourhoods with his men to help clear the gutters of plastic waste. Not for a photo-op but because he inherently believes he should be working for the greater good of the community and not just doing what his job description stipulates.
But I don’t see that. And neither do you, I’m sure.
I would have hoped the policemen who cut the line would come in instead and try to find a way to help. Ask the teller if the network was slow and how if they could be of help telling the people to be patient and that the tellers were doing everything to make sure everyone was served quickly. I would have hoped they helped to manage the queue and not let unscrupulous people cut the lines.
But the way this country is set up nor bros, everything is topsy-turvy. We have actually deified them and let the police intimidate us to the point that the notion of the fact that they are the ones to serve us seems to be a distant object in our rear-view mirror. They have succeeded to let us believe they are above and we are below to the point that I am actually to pass by a police station. And I live in the ‘stable’ side of the country. I can only imagine what my brothers and sisters in Molyko…. Let me not start with that one.
So the question is, how do we move forward? How do we change an already-rotten system? How do we change the status quo and make sure that this mirrors in every sphere of our society and particularly in the public service? How do we make sure the tenets of leadership, the hallmark of which is a feedback loop and an accountability system is put in place to ensure that things change?
The truth is, a policeman cut the line one day and I wanted to voice out my strong disapproval. I’m pretty sure a few people there would have chimed in. But the coward in me was strong that day and honestly, knowing how the police is set up in this country, I could have easily landed in a cell if I did. There was a Champions league game that night and I didn’t want to miss it. I hated myself but I also don’t just want to, as a beloved prefect in my secondary school said, “grumble and stay.” That’s why I decided to at least share my opinion on the matter.
I’d love to continue talking about this, but Vanessa is working the counter today and I got a packet of plantain chips to buy.
- Wandji Wilfred