Things I learned from my Dad: Language is interesting

I didn't realize how fascinating language could be until I listened to my dad explain the meaning of words - things I had taken for granted as is. I didn't even realize how much I looked forward to learn new words and their meanings...until I did.

My first real English teacher was my dad - and my mom by association. At home, for reasons best known to my parents, we spoke English. My dad is very good with words - and not just using them in context, but explaining in some depth (that still awes me till today) their meanings. I took my classes for granted as they were not scheduled and usually informal, even sometimes inconvenient timings. But I remember having a feeling of relish for each new word I learned - from him or other media. I remember as a young teenager, keeping a journal of words and their meanings - my personal dictionary; subscribing to a mailing list (A Word A Day); reading books and stopping smack in the middle of a sentence, reaching for a dictionary to either confirm my suspicion or stand corrected on the meaning of the word. I didn't see it as a big deal, just a little girl trying her hands out on something that she felt compatible with.

Predictably, my best subject in school was language and I even chose french language over music during the final exams. My best teachers were my English teachers and I dare say both of them were similar in more ways than the subject they chose to teach - they were prim, proper and commanding respect from one and all. I liked English a lot as I understood the principles it worked on. Compared to mathematics, these principles seemed pretty straightforward and the most similarity I could was make out between both subjects was when I had to solve 'from first principles' (o how I loved to QED!).

I grew up in Lagos and around Yorubas. Like many Lagos-born-other-tribe-children, i learned Yoruba. First the basics and then a little more. I was particularly interested in knowing the meaning of words, as this meant my chances of correctly decoding a new word was higher but more importantly because I felt more intimate with the language and its people. My language was a different matter in a slightly different way: I took it for granted mostly that I would always understand as I was 'nwa afo' but to my shame, my dad never stops pulling out new and intimidating words from his vocabulary.

Maybe my interest in learning about words (which translated to my love on a play of words) lent me the guts to write (and hence my blogging, a weak attempt at writing a novel at 12, keeping countless diaries/journals), sometimes I think it is an illusion but yet still my love for these words and learning, have anything but diminished. So imagine why I will brag about things I learned from my dad when he still has more to teach me about language - english, igbo...- even now! He is a good teacher, and the one with the longest tenure in my life.

Hate in your heart

I have listened/read/observed many 'sermons' about hatred and anger.

The one that stands out the most in my memory is the one by TD Jakes "Let it go!"

Why the focus on hate?


The one thing I can count on for reassurance in this world filled with unending chaos and man's wickedness to man, is love - God's love - the fact that it is unconditional and all encompassing.

Furthermore, my ability to love someone (and be loved) and knowing how it feels to think about the person being happy, the good memories we made, the joy they bring and an anticipation of future memories we will create....


Coming from this background and knowing that the opposite of love is hate, is there a grey area that we can all safely agree on? Like/dislike is the word I am looking for here!

Back to the black and white.... if love generates such warmth, it is needless to say what hate does. As an averagely careful person (yeah, I am always personalizing my posts), I rarely use the word hate. Off the top of my head I can't even think of someone I will use the word 'intense dislike' to describe. There are many synonyms to hate, as there is to about anything which carries with it such finality:

• abhorrence
• detest
• disdain
• disgust
• odium
• aversion

and the list goes on and on and on...

I have used many of these words a lot more than i have used the word hate - more times than I care to admit. I notice that hate, impatience and anger form a tripod of sorts: each feeding the other and feeding off each other.

This feeling of hate (in any  of its variants) causes restlessness and ultimately ill health if harbored for long.

So how do you know you have hate in your heart? When the thought of seeing someone unnerves you in a bad way and the thoughts running around in your mind are harmful to them, when the news of someone's success fills you with the opposite of gladness, when you are rehearsing your reaction to someone in anticipation of meeting with them just so you don't overreact in a bad way (possibly because of past meetings), when you take another street or side street to avoid someone or fake a phone call just so you don't say hi. All these are pointers to the fact that you are uncomfortable with someone and would rather not have to deal with them - which is a human thing. But the extent and frequency with which we perform these and many more similar actions and to particular people, is a pointer to the increasing dislike which always tends to hatred. More importantly, the thoughts that run in our subconscious towards such people is more the distinguishing factor between mere anxiety and progressive hatred.

I did not intend to preach, just share. I wish I could say I am hate-free. Far from it. I am struggling but I realize the problem is half-solved: I have identified the problem and working on it. I think the best way to deal with hate is to nip it in the bud and determinedly not feed it. If you are at the early stages where you are not even sure what is going on, you should put it on a figurative shelf where it is not easily forgotten - to deal with when you are in a better place - and watch it until you are sure it was just a one off so it doesn't turn to a case of drinking poison and expecting that someone would die from it.

Selah