Rite of Passage

It was supposed to be one of those days that defined my relationship with Uncle K. We both understood how it worked. He owned a hotel and a nightclub, and when I needed to have some fun I’d travel over with some friends and get pretty discounts on accommodation. He’d pester me about bringing “something” for him, but I never did. Maybe out of respect for his wife, or maybe it wasn’t in my character, but I never did.

As much as he is one of the few family members of mine that have an idea about my drinking and partying, he still regarded me a mummy’s boy. I didn’t mind that. Some part of me liked it. I have responsibility I abhor with other family members I am in touch with. I help them out when I can with funds, and every now and again am in charge of scolding cousins and siblings. With Uncle K however, I was a boy who came every other month to spend mummy’s money.

This time, I got back to the hotel at 3.am from a club. He asked my friends to drink whiskey with him; probably hoping one would leave the pack to stay with him till morning. After a few minutes of banter, we went into his room and got talking. My friends were drinking and laughing at jokes back in the sitting room. Of this whole ceremony, this was the sketchy part. I can’t remember why or what got us talking about work, but I found myself spilling my guts about what I did.

Greed is what kills most people. Once you can feed and clothe, everything else is vanity.

I saw him listen, then glisten, and then listen again as we both sipped whiskey and talked about our work. He mentioned millions, then billions, then strategy, then work ethics. I discussed working as a student, and having a job before finishing school, and constantly turning down offers. I didn’t miss out any detail. The pride was welling up. The realization that his perception of me would never be the same pricked me to say some more to present myself as decorated as I could.

When he concluded it was high time I sipped from the sacred gourd of adulthood, he gave me advice I won’t forget. He said “Greed is what kills most people. If you can feed and clothe, everything else is vanity. Don’t take work you can’t control. Don’t do work you don’t love for the money. Don’t give up rest for anything.”

My friends had gone to sleep as I had spent quite a while inside. As far as Uncle K, I walked into that room a boy, and left a man.