A lovely piece about an ordinary man who had lived, and is still living, an ordinary Nigerian life. It shows us that some of the most remarkable lives are the ordinary ones. There is persistence here, there is faith, and there is an almost titanic struggle with the possibility of death. It got me thinking. It seems to me that if more Nigerians were like Mr Pascal, this country will be a much better place. I'll come to Abeokuta this year, hopefully, and I'd like to visit his bookstall, if I do manage it.
Some clarification:
How old is Mr Pascal? His age-range. I have a sense that I may have missed something here, or perhaps there is an elision.
I am asking this because, in the piece, it was implied that he was in his mid-20s in 2008. It was also stated that he married his wife in 2016. Now, I am trying to reconcile this information with the fact that all his children are grown and are currently studying in universities and higher institutions.
Hello. Thank you so much for your comment. I had the same questions when I was interviewing him: his sense of time was not exact. But for the basics, it worked for me. I knew he came to Abeokuta in 2000 (as he said). The comment about 2008 was speculative, it could have been 2005. And he started the book business somewhere around 2012, surely before 2017.
I am not sure about his wife and the children; I had the same question but did not ask him. (I did not want it to seem like I was prying too deeply in his personal affairs.) I think that the same woman gave birth to the children but I am not sure. It may also be that they wedded (married) after having had children together. The latter possibility would appear to be the case: he told me that he knew the woman from long ago, when he was selling VHS. But the marriage was recent.
I have just tried to do the best I could with a two-hour long interview. I have known him for a long time but the conversation that gave me my material was a two-hour interview.
This has the brilliant manifestations of good works. I believe that it will go on, as a work, to have the blessed implications of good works. Well-done, Ernest.
‘Mr. Paschal’s “new” place feels naked. It’s like what Lagos looks like early on a Saturday morning, before the people burst out like weevils from wet beans. Although there is much movement, much sound. Cars and cabs and bikes ply the new road—walkers, too. We talk over car-horns and the sound of working engines, of a fork intermittently slicing a show-glass, and voices—the voices of schoolchildren, of people greeting, of those who want directions.’
The narration man! It got me totally engrossed to the end. Beautiful beautiful stuff
A lovely piece about an ordinary man who had lived, and is still living, an ordinary Nigerian life. It shows us that some of the most remarkable lives are the ordinary ones. There is persistence here, there is faith, and there is an almost titanic struggle with the possibility of death. It got me thinking. It seems to me that if more Nigerians were like Mr Pascal, this country will be a much better place. I'll come to Abeokuta this year, hopefully, and I'd like to visit his bookstall, if I do manage it.
Some clarification:
How old is Mr Pascal? His age-range. I have a sense that I may have missed something here, or perhaps there is an elision.
I am asking this because, in the piece, it was implied that he was in his mid-20s in 2008. It was also stated that he married his wife in 2016. Now, I am trying to reconcile this information with the fact that all his children are grown and are currently studying in universities and higher institutions.
Hello. Thank you so much for your comment. I had the same questions when I was interviewing him: his sense of time was not exact. But for the basics, it worked for me. I knew he came to Abeokuta in 2000 (as he said). The comment about 2008 was speculative, it could have been 2005. And he started the book business somewhere around 2012, surely before 2017.
I am not sure about his wife and the children; I had the same question but did not ask him. (I did not want it to seem like I was prying too deeply in his personal affairs.) I think that the same woman gave birth to the children but I am not sure. It may also be that they wedded (married) after having had children together. The latter possibility would appear to be the case: he told me that he knew the woman from long ago, when he was selling VHS. But the marriage was recent.
I have just tried to do the best I could with a two-hour long interview. I have known him for a long time but the conversation that gave me my material was a two-hour interview.
I hope this helps. Thank you once again.
This has the brilliant manifestations of good works. I believe that it will go on, as a work, to have the blessed implications of good works. Well-done, Ernest.
Thanks for writing this, Ernest.
Thank you so much, man.
‘Mr. Paschal’s “new” place feels naked. It’s like what Lagos looks like early on a Saturday morning, before the people burst out like weevils from wet beans. Although there is much movement, much sound. Cars and cabs and bikes ply the new road—walkers, too. We talk over car-horns and the sound of working engines, of a fork intermittently slicing a show-glass, and voices—the voices of schoolchildren, of people greeting, of those who want directions.’
Beautifully rendered.
Thank you! 🙏🏾
What a piece, man. What a piece!
Brother. Thank you. 🙏🏾