The longest prayer ever recited

 

I do not know about you. As for me, I was raised in a small warren village of about fifty households. The majority of the villagers were minors. Life was tough but meaningful. One thing that bound us together as a village was that we shared deep-seated commonalities vis-à-vis rites and cults. A case in point, every guardian was required to hone the skills of their male wards in two areas - oratory skills and animal herding. These were non-negotiable precepts. Why? It was advanced that since oratory through storytelling appealed to people of all ages, it was thus held as a valuable tool of learning, teaching, and connecting with others. Stories, it was understood, provided insights to develop as much as they explored one’s identity and inspired others. Even today, storytelling is the mainstay of persuasive public speaking, preaching, teaching, counselling, and leadership.

As part of imparting oratory skills, families gathered around bonfires every evening, aiming to teach the young ones how to compose and regurgitate captivating stories, homilies, and supplications for all reasons and seasons. Families competed in inculcating these skills in their wards. Why? Because those who produced outstanding pieces were not only rewarded with handsome mementos, but their kinship was celebrated immensely. Yes, folklore runs deep in the community's tradition.

There was a boy called Zalimba. He came from a humble background. As a little boy, he earned his living by tending other people’s animals, not for a monetary wage but in exchange for a day’s meal, an evening meal to be precise. Still, he looked after the animals diligently and devotedly. No single day did he fail to take the animals out to graze. Due to his demur and subservience in taking care of other people’s animals, his peers made fun of him. They nicknamed him Zalimba the herdboy. Surprisingly, he wore the name with pride and honour.

One day, when Zalimba was out, taking care of the animals, he came across a small patch of soft grass. It looked and felt like a carpet. He lay down on it. To rest. Upon his head hitting the soft grass, he fell into a deep sleep. He had an enigmatic dream. In the dream, Zalimba was a hero. He bore unique abilities – he recited prayers and sacred supplications evocatively. And at will. When he woke up, he noted that he still bore the super-power.

That evening, when members of his master’s family and cluster had gathered for the evening’s meal, riding on the after-effect of the heroic disposition embodied in the dream, Zalimba volunteered to offer a prayer. To pray for the food. For starters, back in the days, evening meals were taken in clusters, comprising four to five huts of immediate and wider families. Male members formed one group and ate from shared bowls. Female members had their own group. They ate from shared plates, too. Unless it was raining, the meals were taken outside the house under starry skies.

Lol, what Zalimba did that evening surprised everyone. He recited every word of the prayer that he had in the dream. Yes, his petition caught the attention of fellow diners. Whereas the young ones laughed and poked fun at Zalimba, the old gave it a thought, reflected on its meaning. What was the homily about? You ask. It was a gratitude prayer. He thanked the higher power for the good health of his master and the family. Then, he expressed gratitude for the lives of everyone in the cluster and village - he literally mentioned the names of all people in the village. Thereafter, he offered gratitude for the women who cooked the food. The people who milled the flour that was used to cook ugali. He prayed for the owner of the mill. Then, he glorified the higher power for the peace in the cluster, village, and on earth. For the flora and fauna – the plants and animals that the villagers used for food. For the lakes, rivers, and wells that supplied them with water used to prepare the food and clean the dishes. For the trees that provided wood for cooking. For the wind that ventilated Mother Earth and for being an agent of pollination for the crops. For the rains that watered the crops. For the sun that provided light for photosynthesis. For the moon that gave nocturnal luminosity under which they met to share the meal. For the galaxy of stars that beautified the night sky. For the teachers who brought enlightenment to the scholars and children of the village. For the doctors who attended to the sick and cured different ailments, which enabled them to have an appetite to enjoy the food. For the drivers who transported people and goods from one place to another. He went on and on . . .  stating every source, resource, and human effort that went into the preparation of the food that was in front of them. In short, he offered gratitude to the higher power for the different provisions accorded to humanity in general, and the villagers in particular. It was the longest prayer ever recited at dinner.

News about Zalimba’s prayer went viral. It spread like wildfire in the village and beyond. Everyone – the young and the old – itched to listen to Zalimba’s meal-time prayer. He was invited to other families’ dinners solely to listen to his prayer. Need I tell you more? Zalimba became the most well-fed chap in the village. He could not cope with the dinner invitations. Although his prayer was crafted for meals, he started to recite it anywhere. On the road. At the market. At the playground. Out in the bush, as long as someone asked him for it. I kid you not - he started to charge a fee. In addition, he composed supplications for other occasions. Zalimba not only became our village’s celebrity but also made a fortune from the recitations. He moved from rags to riches. His name was etched in the village’s Hall of Fame, and he is still revered widely in our village to this day.

Hmm. Zalimba’s prayer of gratitude sounds outlandish and laughable, but if you deeply mull over his intention, you will appreciate that his action reveals a key behaviour that most of us lack in this journey called life – we are not thankful enough for the free provisions of life. If you offer someone advice that improves their health, academic scores, or net worth, they oftentimes do not even bother to give you feedback. You give someone a lift, and upon reaching their destination, they bolt from the car like Spider-Man. You allow someone to merge in busy traffic, and he drives off without even acknowledging your kind gesture. You hold the door open for someone to enter or exit, and they walk past you as if nothing happened. You give directions to a stranger lost in the street, and they glide stealthily without even looking at you to say, ‘thank you.’ You lend someone money, count yourself lucky if you ever see them again in the neighbourhood. The key point, dear reader, is that we should learn to be grateful to our benefactors. To both the higher power as well as our fellow men. To appreciate the providers of the resources and information that we use in our various roles, chores, and callings. Everyone wants to be recognized for the value that they bring to their environment. Thank you is the music that every human ear seeks to hear for an action that positively impacts humanity. One sage from the East once said, “. . . gratitude is the rent that we pay for being tenants on this small planet of ours.”

I am not saying that benefactors should expect appreciative responses or feedback from beneficiaries every time they offer alms. No. That would be construed as trade. What I am saying is that we should be courteous to acknowledge each other’s benevolence and the higher power’s. There is so much to be grateful for in this world - good health, the air we breathe, the ground we walk on, the light we see, the sweet scent we smell, the house we live in, the car we drive, the clothes we wear, the water we drink, the sound we hear, the beautiful sunset, the peace we enjoy as a nation. The list is endless. There are so many people to be thankful for -  family, friends, workmates, schoolmates, collegemates, teachers, university lecturers, firefighters, pizzamakers, baristas, taxi drivers, grave-diggers, washroom cleaners, bosses, pilots, coders, insurers who compensate us when we lose our personal effects, the farmer who produces the banana fruit that you have for breakfast, the soldier who secures your country from foreign hostility, the housekeeper and garden-boy who keep your house and garden cozy. Glorify the higher power for the gift of life. Do not take life and the good health that you enjoy today for granted. There are millions of people out there who long to have the vitality that you are neglecting and taking for granted. Here is your assignment for this weekend - visit the intensive care unit of the hospital near your neighbourhood and catch a glimpse of how the sick long for a bite of a sumptuous snack and yearn for a drink to quench thirst, but are unable to do so due to sickness. Yes, you can have wealth, chattels, and chateaux, but if you are not healthy, you have nothing! Be thankful for your good health. The Persians put it better than I can, “... good health is a crown on the head of a healthy person that only the sick can see.”

Most of us, unfortunately, have developed a sense of entitlement. We feel we inherently deserve the best, to the effect that every blessing that the higher power must endow humanity with should be pitched at us; that every treat that life has to offer should land on our lap, or we should have a share of it. How insatiable and selfish we are! We think the higher power specifically chose and blessed only us - not others – to enjoy the trappings of life.

This reminds me of an exercise carried out in a psychology class in college. The lecturer asked us to reflect and write down an experience from our teenage years that we believe we did not deserve. After a long reflection, I wrote about an act of betrayal that one of my best friends inflicted on me, which made me lose the opportunity to audition for the school play of Macbeth. The other students, too, wrote about their depressing experiences. After twenty minutes, the lecturer asked us to swap notes and read out what our partners had written about. One student wrote about the premature death of his parents. The other student recalled an accident that made him lose one of his eyes. A couple of students wrote about broken friendships with their boyfriends and girlfriends. Other students complained about the small beds in the college hostels. Yet others expressed dissatisfaction with the quality of food in the cafeteria. When everyone had shared and recounted their experiences, the lecturer told us that the experiences we had picked were all valid. However, he pointed out that all of us had selected negative scenarios. None of the students wrote about wonderful things that came to them by good fortune, kindness, grace, or providence. No one shared an experience involving a wonderful scenario that he or she did not deserve.

The lecturer then challenged us that it is our tendency as humans to think that we do not deserve misfortunes that come our way, but we think that we deserve whatever blessings come our way. He further queried why we did not pick good fortunes that we are blessed with and came about due to providence or luck, not through our effort. He cited things, such as the blessing of being born in a loving family; the luck of maintaining strong mental aptitude and brilliance, inter alia. He pointed out that even things that come about due to our effort have an element of providence - the luck of being selected to and attending an elite high school, finishing university, and graduating with flying colours. Being blessed with wonderful jobs, forming lovely families, and being able to tend for ourselves. Being able to speak different languages fluently. Take it or leave it, whether you are a believer or not, we are endowed with these resources, situations, or décor by grace. Full stop.

Many people, let alone societies worldwide, understand the importance of expressing gratitude to benefactors. The Westerners, for example, have a special day in the month of November, known as Thanksgiving Day, which is dedicated to giving gratitude to the higher power for blessings. In East and Southern Africa, they have ‘Mavuno’ in August – an entire week set aside to dedicate the first harvest of annual produce. Similar rites and cults are observed in other parts of the world.  

Views from the top are that you will never change your life unless you change something that you do daily. You do not need to compose or recite a long prayer concordant with Zalimba’s. If you can, well and good. Nonetheless, express gratitude to your fellow men for their benevolence. No matter how small it may be. Acknowledge it. Show appreciation to the higher power for the free provisions of life. He who thinks about ingratitude has already failed. But he who thinks of gratitude is already a step ahead. Be thankful for who you are, what you can do, what you can be, and what you have. Those who understand this principle rise to stardom and become great.     

Lester Chinyang’anya ǀ General Manager - Operations ǀ Minet Malawi