I love being respected, and I'm quite certain that everyone shares the same sentiment as me. I believe that respect is earned, and it's also reciprocal. Thus, one sure way to piss me off is to disrespect or ridicule me.
You know I try to do right by people by being sensitive. I choose my words carefully and I strive to be accommodating such that at every interaction, I can sense when my actions trigger some aggression or hostility in the next person.
I'm aware that not everyone can be like me, as some people think respect is an entitlement due to age or wealth, and this is where they miss me. If there's one thing I learned from my parents, it's that everyone deserves respect.
My mommy will always say even newborn babies are respected; otherwise, when they cry for attention, they would be ignored.
I cringe whenever I see old people act so arrogantly to younger ones. They speak to them most condescendingly, and of course, you are not expected to react because they are your elders. Personally, I cannot stomach abuse regardless of who is involved.
Severally I have come off as rude to people whose actions necessitated my reaction. Given my life experiences, I have seen that so-called peacemakers are more concerned with one's reaction than the action that stirred up the chaos.
Image is mine
Just this morning, I needed to use the local grinders to grind some tomatoes, peppers, and onions. I had ordered a replacement blender online, but it didn't go through as it was out of stock and my order got cancelled. I have been patiently waiting for a restock, and until then I have to use the local grinders, much to my displeasure.
The lady that I usually grind with at the market does not resume until 10am, and I need to be at the office by then. I could just employ her services after work, but then either it would rain or I'd get too tired once I'm home. Thus, having taken permission for late resumption today, I decided to get all my pending chores sorted.
At about 8am this morning I set out with my already cleaned tomato and vegetable combo for grinding. I didn't bother getting to the market; I asked around, and they directed me to a lady who grinds in her home. Unfortunately, she said she was busy, and I sought directions for another grinder from someone else.
On getting there I saw an elderly lady eating. I greeted her and confirmed if she grinds. She nodded, and I took my seat on a stool, waiting for her to finish. Not long after she asked a little girl to come grind for me.
As I sat watching the little girl, I discovered the water she had rinsed the grinding machine with was insufficient, as what washed out was sort of black. So I asked her to rinse again with sufficient water this time around before pouring my tomato mix in. She ignored me, and when I insisted, the elder lady spoke to me harshly that she doesn't have water to waste. She insisted that her grinding machine wasn't dirty and asked that if I have a problem with her methods, I should take my mix elsewhere to grind.
The problem was, at that particular morning, my choices were limited, so I remained. I kept quiet and watched. As the machine grinds, the lady grumbled, and I saw my tomato and pepper with onion mix leak out to the floor. I was upset, but I said nothing to avoid further conflict.
After grinding, she handed me my bucket of grind mix and then proceeded to give me a sound warning. She said to me to be careful how I speak to people, that just because she's grinding peppers doesn't mean she's dirty. She went further to inform me that the reason why the water was cloudy was because of the onion she had grind earlier.
I know what I saw. I have also seen mischievous food vendors come to this local grinders with rotten, black, worm-infested tomatoes and peppers with onions to grind for their public cooking. The water washed out was obviously dirty, and I suspected that it was from one of such grindings.
Seeing this elderly lady try to monkey me and treat me like I'm paranoid did piss me off. I was even more upset that she twisted what I said and had to lie that I called her dirty.
In order to resolve the misunderstanding, I shut my eyes and did a brief breathing exercise to calm myself down. spoke to her in the softest of tones as the atmosphere was already tense. I explained my perspective to her and tried to make her understand that I wasn't referring to her as being dirty but to the water that washed out of the grinding machine.
Before I could conclude, she attacked me and called me little Miss Perfect. She went further to ridicule me by questioning my hygiene and then tagging my outfit as dirty. At this point I was done being calm. I gave her a piece of my mind, and as I walked away angrily, people hushed me, saying I shouldn't have responded to her as she's an old lady.
The whole experience made me wonder and also question if my feelings were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.