Late Night Musings: The Tired Attendant and Mandela’s Donkey

“I learned my lesson one day from an unruly donkey. We had been taking turns climbing up and down its back and when my chance came I jumped on and the donkey bolted into a nearby thorn bush. It bent its head, trying to unseat me, which it did, but not before the thorns had pricked me and scratched my face, embarrassing me in front of my friends. Like the people of the East, Africans have a highly developed sense of dignity, or what the Chinese call ‘face’. I had lost face among my friends. Even though it was a donkey that unseated me, I learned that to humiliate another person is to make him suffer an unnecessarily cruel fate. Even as a boy, I defeated my opponents without dishonouring them.”  Nelson Mandela (A Long Walk to Freedom)

It was around 4:30 am and we had taken a call to SIUT or a patient who needed to be put on the ventilator (Funnily enough, it’s been 1.5 months in the internal medicine ward and this is the first call I had taken to SIUT, despite the fact that it’s supposed to occur more frequently given the sheer volume of patients and the seriousness of their condition). Civil looked like it always did around that time at the darkest hour of night just before dawn; quiet, almost eerie without the sounds  of hustle bustle, almost peaceful. We were about to turn towards our ward when we were stopped on the way by a man, an attendant whose patient was lying discomposedly on one of those stretchers that are so hard and bent, they look like they can precipitate backaches faster than it takes for the time to get on it. He was asking for directions for the ward the patient had to get admitted in. He seemed tired and defeated, “Itni dair se dhoondh rahey hain, nahi mila bus zaleel ho rahey hain” (We have been searching for so long and couldn’t find it. All that’s happened is that we have been getting humiliated)

We weren’t the first people he had asked for directions. They had asked multiple guards and technicians they had met on the way. At that time of night, no one’s willing to talk much, especially explain the complicated locations around Civil. Moreover, in a government setting, there is a high rate of burnout, making common courtesy a thing of rarity. Guards frequently yell and argue with attendants who simply crowd the area and argue back. Nobody gets anywhere. Everyone’s on edge, all the time.

And so it happened that this man had been searching fervently but gotten nowhere and nothing save for humiliation or ‘Bezzati’

I could sense he was tired. But I also sensed a defiance in his voice. He was asking for much more than directions.

He was asking not to be humiliated again.

We explained as best as we could and then we left hurriedly as we had more patients coming. But I am unlikely to forget the lesson of that simple encounter and I can only hope it stays with me next time I am feeling too tired to explain directions, or anything, properly to someone who needs help.

Mandela’s example came to my mind in that moment. I had partly read his autobiography a long time back and this incident with the donkey had stayed in my mind for some reason. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I have seen people humiliated all too often. Us Pakistanis can be impatient and hot tempered and in being so, we can sometimes create a vicious circle of anger, humiliation and guilt.

It takes a lot to step out of a circle  because the blame falls equally on everyone within it. But at some point we have to take ownership and accountability for our actions.

I can only Pray that I remember to do so myself. And I hope at some point, we can all do that.