Misfortunes and belongings

In the 1931 novel Night Flight by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, we are reminded that “even our misfortunes are a part of our belongings.”

My first reading comes at a time when I am reimagining the journey to date. In the novel, Rivière, the director of the mail service, believes the progress of humanity and the advancement of civilization requires sacrifice.

When I recently reached the airport in Kinshasa, I had been sitting in the car for five hours and five minutes. A lorry had broken down in the early hours of the morning which resulted in a massive congestion. The kind of situations that Ghanaians refer to as “choked.” What was supposed to be a normal ride of an hour and a half turned out to be a slower pace of observing and absorbing the routine of millions of city dwellers. The image of Fabien, another character in the novel, came to mind. He was lost in a storm and experienced the inherent conflict between the individual and the collective, the meaning of duty and responsibility, and the struggle against the forces of nature and fate.

I was in a choked city. In these instances, we can find learning opportunities. The car window, in this case, presented itself with a narrative of resilience. In the novel, Rivière muses at one point, “In every crowd are certain persons who seem just like the rest, yet they bear amazing messages.”

One of the Fula Fula caught my attention. Against a bright yellow paint, there was a quote in blue, “on n’a pas peur de l’échec car il ne déçoit jamais!” – we are not scared to fail as failure never disappoints.

Failure in this particular moment, for me, would have meant missing my flight. Yet, there was nothing I could have done differently to arrive on time at the airport. For many of these small businesses, moving people around the city, a standstill implies a loss of income. In my case, a rebooking and other expenses related to my sense of entitlement, would have been the ultimate price as well as a missed family gathering. It is small change compared to the cost resulting from the misfortune of a lorry driver.

I was calm all along the way, hoping that I would not have to return to the city. Yet, it was not a waste. The ride gave me insights into the daily cash transactions borne out of traffic jams. The slower pace implies that drivers, conductors and passengers have an opportunity to spend money, with sellers walking up and down and across the street enticing us to quench our thirst, fill our stomachs and get another item that we may not need but create a reason to interact in the stillness of the traffic. Mapping these interactions is at the heart of financial inclusion. The behavioral change rests in our ability to create a value proposition of substitution. As such, it is a question of duty, discipline and progress. A duty to understand, the discipline to observe patiently and the cost of progress for the change some of us believe  necessary. How does one replace the power of holding the notes neatly arranged between fingers with the invisible infrastructure of fast, reliable and secure digital payment?

For Rivière, one has to think of humans as “a lump of wax to be kneaded into shape.” “The orders, thought Rivière, are like the rites of a religion; they may look absurd but they shape men and [women] in their mold.” It need not be about justice, but bending the human will to reflect the purpose of the business.

So while cash may look absurd, it bears the tangible promise of existence and belonging. So how does the individual’s demand for the transition translate into a collective ritual to mold new from the familiar? And in this search, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is of the view that “even though human life may be the most precious thing on earth we always behave as if there were something of higher value than human life but what thing?” For me it is transmission – to give a mission – as it is the ultimate purpose.

When the car pulled into the street where I lived between 2007 and 2008, I was filled with peace. Kinshasa came at a pivotal moment in my young professional life. Understanding what an investment of US$ 500 million could do to advance prevention and treatment of HIV, tuberculosis and malaria. That mission bore the elements of molding of behavior change that Saint-Exupéry refers to. Eighteen years later, as I returned through the street I had walked multiple times, I could not help but think about fate. Saint-Exupéry teaches us about the capital importance of having a profound respect for the courage and solitude of those who live on the edge […]. In his time, pilots had the indomitable will to overcome and conquer the unknown, even when the outcome was uncertain.

On my ride, the outcome of getting on the flight was uncertain. What I observed and absorbed was the courage of men and women to sit for hours, sometimes in difficult positions, squashed between humans and goods, faced with the brutal reality of heat, humidity, impatience and reduced our level of tolerance. Yet, in this transit, two small cars were carrying a coffin and two sofas, respectively. Nothing, even the size of their vehicles, deterred them from the mission they had to accomplish.

I made my flight. I was relieved and though the pilot would not experience Fabien’s challenges of navigating with less technology, the images of resilience, abnegation and strength live with me. Solving for prosperity requires our misfortunes and our belongings to chart a path in the midst of a world that does not always gives us time to observe and absorb the realities we ought to change.

The transmission, through our misfortunes and belongings, is to mold ourselves out of the religion of poverty to embrace the gospel of prosperity.