FUNKE ADETUTU
I have decided to title my piece this week after the famous African-American writer, Ralph Ellison’s “The Invisible Man” based on a saddening experience I had last Sunday. Ralph Ellison’s protagonist is a man, but mine, a woman, because it happened to a female fellow in this writing profession. I could not help but liken what happened to a female journalist who reports for the Nation Newspaper at the 2nd Young Designers’ Creative Competition organised by Ade Bakare Couture to the experience that the protagonist in Ellison’s novel went through in a racist American society. Let me give you a brief summary of what happened to the Invisible Man in Ellison’s novel before I narrate my experience of that Sunday.
“The Invisible Man” is a novel which embodies the universal theme of self-discovery, of the search to figure out who truly is one in this life which we all are embarked upon. Throughout the text, the narrator is constantly wondering about who he really is, and evaluating the different identities which he assumes for himself. He progresses from being a hopeful student with a bright future to being just another poor black labourer in New York City to being a fairly well-off spokesperson for a powerful political group, and ultimately, to being the "invisible man" which he eventually realises that he has always been. The deepest irony in this text is that, for a significant portion of the story, the narrator is unaware of his own invisibility, in believing that others can "see" him, he is essentially invisible to himself. Only through a long and arduous journey of self-discovery which is fraught with constant and unexpected tragedy and loss, does he realise the truth, that his perceptions of himself and of how others perceived him had been backwards his entire life.
The story opens with the narrator participating in a "battle royal" prior to delivering a speech on humility.
The lady who introduced herself to me as Kehinde was unusually amiable and polite, such that, I quietly thought to myself that she must be a different style reporter from the others I have met in the past. That evening, when I arrived the venue, I decided to sit in a place which would provide me enough room to leave my seat to take photographs of the models as they strut the runway, hence I picked a seat at the edge of a row close to the judges’ desk. I’m sure Kehinde considered that too before she decided to sit close to me. But unknown to us, something odd waited ahead.
After a brief introduction of the dignitaries by Yemisi Ransome Kuti, the show began. As the models walk the run way, Kehinde and I stood up simultaneously to take photographs. At this moment also, all the cameramen were on alert and each struggled with his camera to have a good shot of the models. And so, one of the judges who also doubles as a photographer equally tried to take advantage of the zoom lens of his camera, hence, he too took the shots from his seat. But as expected, some cameramen stood in his way. He waved them to give him right of way for the first three models who walked the runway but the other photographs refused to budge as they were more concerned with the task before them.
“Leave that place,” the man shouted at the cameraman. “I won’t,” the other retorted. “I say leave that place. You are looking for trouble,” he bellowed this time.
“I won’t leave. Why don’t you stand up. You can’t possibly get your shots while seated,” he replied defiantly.
The argument was long drawn and the man refused to leave the spot. However, on a second thought, he squatted.
As the next model walked past me, Kehinde decided to seize the moment to get a good shot since the last one she took was not clear enough. She made frantic efforts to get the best shot, but in the process, stood in the way of the photographer cum judge.
In a flash, the man stood up from his seat and stood in front of Kehinde to take his shot thereby shoving her backward with his elbow. Kehinde was furious at this unmanly act, and challenged the man fiercely.
“I will send you out of here, if you are not careful,” the man screamed.
“That’s impossible. I have the same right as you have here,” replied
Kehinde.
“Ok, let’s wait and see. Just stand in front of me again and you will see what I will do to you,” he threatened.
I felt bad that this supposedly civilised man in a three-piece suit at such a gathering of decent people, and even thought fit as a judge for that kind of event could actually behave in such an uncivilised way. The incident, honestly, just reminded that one’s level of education does not really matter in certain situations. It shows that while some people may claim to have got first degree in some educational fields, they after all, have failed to acquire the relevant degree in use of decency and common sense.
One would have thought at least, our fine gentleman would have known it’s not right to treat a fellow man in like manner, let alone, a woman.
I have decided to title my piece this week after the famous African-American writer, Ralph Ellison’s “The Invisible Man” based on a saddening experience I had last Sunday. Ralph Ellison’s protagonist is a man, but mine, a woman, because it happened to a female fellow in this writing profession. I could not help but liken what happened to a female journalist who reports for the Nation Newspaper at the 2nd Young Designers’ Creative Competition organised by Ade Bakare Couture to the experience that the protagonist in Ellison’s novel went through in a racist American society. Let me give you a brief summary of what happened to the Invisible Man in Ellison’s novel before I narrate my experience of that Sunday.
“The Invisible Man” is a novel which embodies the universal theme of self-discovery, of the search to figure out who truly is one in this life which we all are embarked upon. Throughout the text, the narrator is constantly wondering about who he really is, and evaluating the different identities which he assumes for himself. He progresses from being a hopeful student with a bright future to being just another poor black labourer in New York City to being a fairly well-off spokesperson for a powerful political group, and ultimately, to being the "invisible man" which he eventually realises that he has always been. The deepest irony in this text is that, for a significant portion of the story, the narrator is unaware of his own invisibility, in believing that others can "see" him, he is essentially invisible to himself. Only through a long and arduous journey of self-discovery which is fraught with constant and unexpected tragedy and loss, does he realise the truth, that his perceptions of himself and of how others perceived him had been backwards his entire life.
The story opens with the narrator participating in a "battle royal" prior to delivering a speech on humility.
The lady who introduced herself to me as Kehinde was unusually amiable and polite, such that, I quietly thought to myself that she must be a different style reporter from the others I have met in the past. That evening, when I arrived the venue, I decided to sit in a place which would provide me enough room to leave my seat to take photographs of the models as they strut the runway, hence I picked a seat at the edge of a row close to the judges’ desk. I’m sure Kehinde considered that too before she decided to sit close to me. But unknown to us, something odd waited ahead.
After a brief introduction of the dignitaries by Yemisi Ransome Kuti, the show began. As the models walk the run way, Kehinde and I stood up simultaneously to take photographs. At this moment also, all the cameramen were on alert and each struggled with his camera to have a good shot of the models. And so, one of the judges who also doubles as a photographer equally tried to take advantage of the zoom lens of his camera, hence, he too took the shots from his seat. But as expected, some cameramen stood in his way. He waved them to give him right of way for the first three models who walked the runway but the other photographs refused to budge as they were more concerned with the task before them.
“Leave that place,” the man shouted at the cameraman. “I won’t,” the other retorted. “I say leave that place. You are looking for trouble,” he bellowed this time.
“I won’t leave. Why don’t you stand up. You can’t possibly get your shots while seated,” he replied defiantly.
The argument was long drawn and the man refused to leave the spot. However, on a second thought, he squatted.
As the next model walked past me, Kehinde decided to seize the moment to get a good shot since the last one she took was not clear enough. She made frantic efforts to get the best shot, but in the process, stood in the way of the photographer cum judge.
In a flash, the man stood up from his seat and stood in front of Kehinde to take his shot thereby shoving her backward with his elbow. Kehinde was furious at this unmanly act, and challenged the man fiercely.
“I will send you out of here, if you are not careful,” the man screamed.
“That’s impossible. I have the same right as you have here,” replied
Kehinde.
“Ok, let’s wait and see. Just stand in front of me again and you will see what I will do to you,” he threatened.
I felt bad that this supposedly civilised man in a three-piece suit at such a gathering of decent people, and even thought fit as a judge for that kind of event could actually behave in such an uncivilised way. The incident, honestly, just reminded that one’s level of education does not really matter in certain situations. It shows that while some people may claim to have got first degree in some educational fields, they after all, have failed to acquire the relevant degree in use of decency and common sense.
One would have thought at least, our fine gentleman would have known it’s not right to treat a fellow man in like manner, let alone, a woman.
1 comment:
Olawale Ayetolu Today at 1:21am wrote on Facebook that:
Having gone through your today's piece, I beleive you are right.No matter the level of one's Education any instinct in one could never be hidden.
One thing that baffles me is of what criteria or criterion did such people become Judges
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