Greetings everyone!
I'm one of those people who is not disturbed by noise, except if it's a very sharp one like that of a scary Canon shot. The Canon shot here doesn't mean the one you know; no, it's the native one that shakes the earth when it's being shot; it's usually used in burials. That's the only thing I've frowned at all through my life as noise pollution in the little years I've lived on this Earth. Maybe because I haven't stayed close to a church that does "fire fire fire" every night.
I can cope anywhere, even when there's loud music fixed on my door. I'll pick the music to read and turn it into a pathway to good sleep.
This doesn't mean I'm disputing noise pollution, No! Noise pollution is real and it affect humans differently.
Image is mine
I once had an issue with the case of noise pollution;
Three years ago, when I was in IMO State, I was 'arrested' as one of the ministers in our church branch there, and I was also leading the Christian group of corpers in the LGA, so I was well known by top people in the communities.
In the church there, we usually go for morning prayers, which start at 6:00 a.m. and end at 7:00 a.m. on daily basis. The small church has three horn speakers mounted at the three corners of the building (a one-story building), and these horn speakers take over the community whenever we start.
Sincerely, I saw it as a normal thing; *after all, we were using that as a means of sharing the word of God with residence of the community even when they're in bed enjoying the last phase of sleep before the day breaks.
One day, the vicar(priest) of the Anglican Church close to my church summoned me. I happily went to meet him because he's a man of high reputation in the community. I got there, and I was well welcomed by his children with a plate containing bananas, which I devoured without fear; "It's a godly home, I can eat anything without the fear of being poisoned" I thought as I ate the fruit while one of the children went in to call her father.
Within some minutes, the vicar came out, and we greeted each other in a very informal way because we'd known each other for a short period of time.
"So, the reason I called you is the everyday noise from your church. Why is it like that? Can't the volume be reduced or the horn speakers be taken down?" He said, and I was totally lost, with a lot of thoughts clashing in my soft mind:
"Why is this man meeting me on this when I'm not the pastor of the church? Why can't he go and meet the pastor? I'm nothing but a stranger in this land; why?"
"Ummmmm... Okay, thank you, sir. I appreciate this. Actually, this is the first time I'm giving this a thought that our early morning prayers are being disturbing as noise pollution. Why not talk to our pastor and see if he could take down the horn speakers?" I said all these things in a very polite way because I was talking to a real indigene of the land, and any fowl or boastful word from a stranger like me would put me in a tight situation.
"I've met him, but he's stubborn. Also, they weren't doing this until you guys came, and it seems you're a stakeholder in the church."
The stakeholder talk made me burst into laughter, and I had to tell him that there's nothing like a stakeholder in church like that—that we are just serving God. That's all.
I had to use wisdom to overshadow his talks until I left there.
That evening, I met my pastor and told him about the horn speakers and pleaded if we could take one down, but he refused; instead, he said the vicar is jealous of the growth of the church.
Omo! From that day on, I threaded with caution until I left the state (until Pop). I was not ready to be engaged in their fight.
Thanks for reading.