“Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.”
― Paulo Coelho, Brida
I grew up in a very religious household: no alcohol, no smoking, and other things that could quickly make God disfavor you. My father was very strict, he was. He was so strict that other children in the neighborhood took it upon themselves to come and warn us as soon as he entered the boulevard. We children prayed religiously, observed fasts in the appropriate month, and tried to be model children. It is always easier to keep these rituals when one is young, but once you start having friends and connecting with the real world and the people that inhabit it, that’s another story entirely. I was very skinny in my teenage years. For some reason however most of my friends that were not classmates or age mates were always older than me. After high school, my father refused for me to go to college. He felt that because I had shown promise as an artist and a writer, I should either go to secretarial school or study journalism.
Not that you cannot learn journalism in college, though. After a short stint in a small secretarial school near my home, he enrolled me in journalism school. I was the youngest of the lot. Everybody else in my cohort was there because they had tried their hands at other things and decided on journalism as a last resort. But age was no barrier to friendship, and everybody treated me like a little sister, even though I was all of eighteen years old.
Somehow, they knew most of my knowledge came from books and not anywhere from the streets. Two older ones especially, Ngz and Joanne, took me under their wings. Ngz lived in my neighborhood, so we walked together to catch the bus to and from school, which made us closer.
Soon I started spending most of my off days in Ngz’s house. Her family was very nice, and her parents treated me just like one of the kids. When in their house I ate with them and did my chores just like everybody else. Ngz was five years older than me and had another sister who was just two years older than me, Cheche. Both of them were very close, so Cheche and I became good friends also. While I was into books and dreaming of writing the great African novel, Ngz, and Cheche were way ahead into men and dating. And I followed them around, observing and learning, but never partaking. Until one day.
Ngz had met a guy previously who gave her his business card and asked her to visit him when she had time. We were out from journalism school for a short break, and just sitting around in her room when she mentioned him, then decided that it would be nice to visit because he was loaded. I concurred. Address in hand, we set out to find this guy. Three bus stops and a mile’s walk later, we were there. Luckily, he was home. Then, cellphone were not in wide use, so you just upped and go when you wanted to visit someone. If they were at home, lucky you. If not, wait a while, or wait a long time, then go back home. But this guy was home. He ushered us in with a big smile into his spacious home and we made ourselves comfortable on the couch.
A few pleasantries later, he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two small bottles of wine. I had never drank before in my life, and had no intention of drinking, but somehow, there I was, taking the first sip. It tasted good. I took another, and another, and another. Before I knew it, I had finished a whole bottle of wine. What was I going to do? If I went home, my father would know that I had been drinking! But my family knew if I was not at home, I was at Ngz’s place. And that was where I crashed. That wine I drank knocked me out cold for about six good hours.
Later in the evening, I went home, all sober and ready to join in religious acts like a good child. But the taste for wine had been born, though I would definitely never attempt to drink a whole bottle of wine ever again.
My religious upbringing made me realize one thing that day: the ever-loving God we serve is not a God of wrath. He gave us free will to do whatever we want, and it is up to us to exercise that free will in ways that do not create a wedge between God and us. Personally, whatever your religious denomination, I think God has better things to do than ponder whether one of His subjects drinks a glass of wine or beer. Moderation is the key to everything in life.
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