I
was a stubborn child growing up, but that goes without saying. And I remember
as kids we would sneak up behind women as they walked and mimic their walking
step, choreographing it with the tune “seventeen, eighteen , nineteen, zabadam”.
And usually these mommies will chase us with canes and we will run away laughing,
till our stomachs hurt. It was all mindless fun to us.
But
then the other day, as I was walking past my friends, unbeknownst to me, I
heard them burst into laughter. When I inquired about their jest, they told me
I was walking like one of those mommies we used to jest as kids. It was funny
to me also, because I had assumed I was strutting in such a way that would
rival Naomi Campbell on the runway. But it turns out, I was just so much an
African and no matter how much I try to do the catwalk, my ‘Africanness’ exudes
even through my walking step.
So
I took out time to notice the form, pace and gait of people as they walk past. I bet some found my staring creepy, but then again
I couldn’t walk up to everyone and explain to them that I was only conducting a
research. Now this is what I deduced. As girls, we walked with a spring in our
steps, like a bouncy, leaping walk, mainly because we were wafer thin. But as
we grew older and filled out our curves, our steps were altered a bit. No more
jumpy walk like we did as kids, but we still walked with speed as much as our
young bodies could carry. However, filling out more as women, the hips, the
buttocks and breasts all culminate into holding us back as we walk. We lose the
spring and jump to our steps and replace it with a slower, short paced walk
that undeniably brings the wiggle to our steps.
Being
Africans and bountifully endowed with these, I think it has contributed indubitably
to our uniqueness. We lack the briskness of Europeans, Arabians and other ethnicities.
And this gait of ours goes as far as inflecting how we behave, act, and our
general behavior and attitude towards things and people. An African is
unhurried in pace, hence when we walk someone who’s leaving a place to another
place, we tarry long while we walk and catch up on some last moment gist before
we part. Same applies to when you visit someone at their house, we linger over
food, mainly because we want to hold meaningful conversations. We ask about each
other’s welfare because we really care to know. And then we also lend our ears
for as long as necessary to listen to them in their unhurriedly response, unburden
their hearts.
This
distinguishes us as a race. We care enough to happily share our time with others
even if only to listen to their babble. We aren’t too time conscious that we
snuff out one’s flow just because we need to hurry somewhere.
An
upside of our unhurried gait also shows how we aren’t prone to panic attacks
and the likes. We are conscious of our environment and very much in tune with
it in that we anticipate occurrences and hence aren’t easily spooked. Though I
have found we can only enjoy such solitude in the suburbs now seeing as the city
has been taken over by the hurried chaotic speed of the western world.
As
usual, a cause and effect relationship ensues, in that the longer we take strutting
and wiggling before we get to where we ought to be, the more time we lose. Hence,
why it is aptly tagged ‘African Time’.
I
once read somewhere, that the speed in one’s walking step, determine the mental
alertness and resourcefulness of one’s mind. For instance, have you ever taken
note of the Chinese and how they walk so briskly? Maybe this contributes to how
fit they appear and probably the improved quality of their thoughts which is
quickly making them the greatest country in technological advancement.
But
you see, we are an unhurried people, so much that our walking style says it
all. This therefore is a bane to a large number of us, as we have the tendency
of approaching life in much the same way. We easily let go of things that appear
stressful, and in similar fashion, we move our focus and attention to other mundane
things.
Photocredit: African tribal women alamy.com
