I don’t know why the word “fake” occurred to me during meditation this morning. Fake, as a word is synonymous with counterfeit and imitation. In the material world there are fake things and fake people too.
False-tooth, make-believe arts, imitation leather, synthetic hair, and silicon breasts- these things and things in their order are the originals of themselves. They are authentic articles, even those fake arse some women wear these days. You can’t mistook those for fakes unless their brands were imitated.
Fake, as the word occurred to me this morning has to do with people. At a subliminal level of thought, there are fake people in the world- fake friends, fake family, fake politicians, fake doctors, nurses, soldiers, teachers; fake businessmen, fake actors, fake writers, fake fakers- people who assume roles they have no training or natural flair for. Such fakes are always found out to be fakes.
Yesterday I was discussing with a group of writer friends, and the matter of who is a Literary Critic and who is a Literary Cynic dominated our discourse. The same yesterday I visited a tailor from Aba and found out he was a faker.
The man makes all class of suits and jackets- there were Italian suits, British Waist-Coats and American tuxedos that could have fooled anyone. It would all have been perfectly original if the labels the man had sewn on his products weren’t “Varsece”, “Galvin Klein”, “Dolcci & Cabbana”. He even had a label that read “Doro Gucci”.
I had a bottle of expensive Italian wine, found at a shop in Alaba where they actually sell fake vintage. The good wine was on the sample shelf, I managed to buy the thing off the dealer when I pretended I was taking it as a sample to my client who was ready to order a 12-feet container of the wine. And now this fake designer pretended I had brought it to him as a gift, snatching the bottle out of my hand and commenced invoking God’s blessings on me for being so kind. I snatched my thing back and informed him that the wine was 12,5% volatile, and too strong a liquor for a good Christian fashion designer like him.
I wonder if he was not a fake man of God too, with his hair styled like Chris Oyakhilomen’s, the verbosity of Okotie, and the dress-sense of Oritsejafor. Certainly, the original is still preferred to the copy.
I got a notification for comment on one of my recent posts on facebook, and when I clicked to read the comment this was what I got:
“Love the way you write… You are an original.”
And that, coming from a trusted writer I wish to be like, is an assurance that I am in order. i want to keep it that way God helping his child.