all fingers aint equal

My street is home to the headquarter branch of one of the foremost banks in the country.

Leaving the house each day, my eyes are fed with the beautiful view of those elegant cars parked in rows as though being paraded for sale, with their owners stepping out of them in styles exuding luxuriousness.

Notable among these bank executives is one whose dress sense I admire so much that I once walked up to him to give my compliments. Beyond his kind looks, he has a great personality. Friendly and warm-hearted. This was the genesis of our friendship.

On the adjacent street is the locally popular 'Iya Ibeji' (the Yoruba appellation for one who mothers a set of twins).
She's got two of them.
Yea, two sets of twins. All boys!
Blessed, right?

Yea well, doesn't seem life has been particularly fair to her.

Iya Ibeji struggles to survive and cater for her 4 boys only with menial jobs, and would sometimes seek alms from passers-by, especially the well-dressed ones.

I was at work and sighted this flashy car, familiar to me for its uniqueness.

Taking a closer look, it was my banker friend, together with his pretty wife, both dressed in matching corporate attires. Lovely couple!
The very aura of resplendence around them would make one think they had it all.

Apparently, they had come for a routine appointment with the gynaecologist.
A case of primary infertility it was. 8 years of marriage without an issue!

He told me how much water had gone under the bridge in their quest for a progeny. How he could spend anything just to see his wife's uterus house a fetus and their hands carry their offspring.
He was pained. His words reflected the ache in his heart.
I saw a different version of my very happy and aesthetic banker friend.
They didn't have it all after all.
They had secrete struggles and silent cries.

And just then, I remembered Iya Ibeji, the lowly young woman blessed with 2 sets of twin boys.
I imagined my banker friend would gladly give his fortune to have such.

How many times have you wished that your life was like someone else's, without realising that the near-perfect and problem-free life appearances shown off by some in public is only a facade?

Do you often wallow in self-pity while you compare your life with those friends whose posts on the social media depict a well accomplished and fulfilled life, failing to realise that it could only be a mirage?

Rather than brood over your lack in comparison with someone else's abundance, appreciate that which you possess, no matter how little.

There's always a reason to be thankful.

And even if you wrongly think there's none, the Lagoon is sure not the next place to visit.