๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ธ๐ฎ๐ต ๐ฑ๐ผ๐ฒ๐๐ป’๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐ฝ๐ฒ!
(A thought provoking analysis summing up our life compared to our elders’ lifestyle – as shared on some social media platforms)
Our grandparents built homes with ๐ผ๐ป๐ฒ ๐ถ๐ป๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ฒ. But they also built lives with one intention: to stretch what they had, not chase what they didnโt.
They didnโt ๐๐ถ๐ฝ ๐ผ๐ป ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฑ ๐น๐ฎ๐๐๐ฒ๐ ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐ธ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ธ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ๐ถ in cafรฉs with imported cinnamon. They boiled ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ ๐น๐ฒ๐ฎ๐๐ฒ๐ till the pot stained, poured it into chipped cups, and called it enough.
They didnโt ๐๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ผ๐น๐น ๐บ๐ฒ๐ป๐๐. They opened cupboards, found onions, lentils, maybe a tomato; and made a meal that ๐ณ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ฒ๐น๐๐ฒ. Because the house was full – of children, cousins, neighbours who popped in โjust for teaโ; and stayed for dhal and roti.
๐ข๐ป๐ฒ ๐ฝ๐ผ๐. No measurements. Just instinct, barakah, and love. Somehow, everyone ate, even the uncle who arrived late with a story and no warning.
They didnโt have ๐บ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐น ๐ฝ๐น๐ฎ๐ป๐. They had sabr. They didnโt count calories.
They counted blessings.
๐ฃ๐ต๐ผ๐ป๐ฒ๐ didnโt unlock with a face.
They hung on the wall or the sat atop the sideboard cupboard in the diningroom.
There was ๐ผ๐ป๐ฒ ๐๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฒ๐ป…in the lounge; and if your father chose the channel, you watched – even if it was news in a language you didn’t understand.
Now every room has a screen. The toddler has a tablet. The tween has a phone with more ๐ฎ๐ฝ๐ฝ๐ ๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ป ๐ฑ๐๐ฎ๐, and we wonder why we canโt afford rent.
We race through ๐๐ผ๐ฏ๐๐ฟ๐ด in ๐๐ ๐ช๐, Jeeps, and Land Rovers – chasing time, chasing status, chasing silence.
But Nana drove a simple Nissan bakkie, the kind with a bench seat in front, and children packed in the back like joy itself – no seatbelts, just wind, laughter, and a packet of Nik Naks passed around.
We say weโre broke, but our carts are full. We say weโre tired, but our calendars are self-inflicted.
We say weโre ๐ฑ๐ถ๐๐ฐ๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ฒ๐ฐ๐๐ฒ๐ฑ, but we havenโt prayed maghrib with the family in weeks. We say weโre overwhelmed, but we havenโt touched the Quraan since last Ramadhaan.
We give thousand-rand ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐๐ถ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ to children. We eat meals delivered by Uber Eats or Mr D, from places we didnโt visit.
We ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ๐๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ๐, but forget that comfort was once a mattress on the floor, a fan in summer, and your duas before sleeping.
Dada didnโt have 47 debit orders.
He had one bank card, or a post office savings account; and a wife who reminded him to pray Esha salaah before bed.
Nani didnโt have bhakoor or scented candles labelled โTranquility.โ She lit lobaan and let the scent ‘carry’ her prayers.
Barakah doesnโt swipe.
It doesnโt stream.
It doesnโt arrive in a branded paper bag.
It lives in the quiet.
In the cracked mug.
In the walk to the masjid.
In the meal made from memory.
In the dua whispered before sleep.
So donโt ask why the elders could build. Ask what they didnโt waste.