The Self in the Other

By


Obododimma Oha


I like myself that I see in the other person . Do I see the other in me? Can I like the other when I see the other in me? It seems that I am too serious about the selfness of myself and the otherness of the other. Is it not possible that the other is other me in another skin? Does this mean that the selfness of my selfhood has disappeared?

The other may even have a slightly different form: not just a different design of face or a different narrative indicated by a DNA test, but even femaleness with female sexual organs as opposed to my own hardware – a male sexuality with a penis to cap it up. Don’t mention beard, after all some women can spot it! But that female sexuality is mine, beyond animus and anima confluences! That form is only an environmental dressing for an alien. 

Myself resident in the other tells me to be careful, gentle, kind, humane, in dealing with the other. The other is not another creature served for my meal. The other is me in another skin, another costume. If you pinch yourself and it pains you, then you can tell that when you pinch the other, it would pain that fellow, says the Igbo sage. That means that pinching is not universally welcome to all creatures in this costume! My feeling should be your feeling; you are not yet a fossil! You are human and can feel!

Differences that you narrate on the bases of religion, ethnicity, gender, etc are mere distractions from sameness. These variables come after sameness. Differences are different only because you imagine. But sameness is not imagination.

OK, the expiry of this object is same as the expiry of the other object. It is the same knife used by the unfriendly terrorist in slaughtering the goat that is used in slaughtering the sheep. The timetable for the slaughter does not matter. When the goat puts off its skin, the sheep puts off its. What is important is that  the goat does not drop its skin because of goatness and the sheep because of sheepness.

The other is me when it smiles and when it cries. The other is not a piece of stone. The other is me hungry for knowledge as a pupil and armed with knowledge as an expert. It is me sweating and writing that examination and it is me winning the Nobel right from MIT! Unachievable?

Is that shithole emptiness not mine? Is that hi-tech orientation not also mine? Does the difference not tell me that differences in this world indicate that it is here and also there? This civilization is lost in paradoxes and one is not surprised that it has nights and days. When can it have an eternal dawn?

This is about selfness and otherness; so, let us not forget. Its nights and its days are but an evening gone out there. Its night is only the other side of day. Does that not mean that the little bird that takes off from a low branch to another low one is not near the ground and the chaser can catch it?

Yes; the other slumbers in me! Wake up the other and see that one is not alone. The other is with the self. The other complements the self. The other strengthens the self.

Didn’t voice it out about the selfness of the other? That says that selfishness is an aberration. Selfishness is ignorance and suggests an unwillingness to be complete, to be fulfilled with the other.

When the self is with the other or knows the other, it is fulfilled. The self has to keep searching for its other when it is absent. It needs completeness.


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