The meeting began at the appointed time that morning. The hall was half full and one could hear the clicking of the cups as the team took their morning cups of tea and coffee. The early birds: the ones who lived in the next county and had to wake up before dawn to get to Nairobi on time. The hassle of being employed. The staff were still arriving slowly and would ease themselves into the conference hall and identify places to sit. True to human nature, the seats at the back of the hall were all occupied and those at the front were vacant. I too do this but have never known why; we just do it. There seemed to be a script that guided all latecomers to walk to the front: I guess so we can all see who these were.

Sheena peeped through the door, walked in then stood a while at the entrance. She was trying to identify a table with a vacant seat: one with people she knew and who she could chat with. Another trait of the human race: we sit together only if we know one another. We sit with strangers only when there is no other option. It was clear that the only seats vacant were those at the front and a few in the middle of the room but with people she did not know. Then she spotted them: two vacant seats at the very corner of the room. They were not quite vacant: the occupants had stepped up to assist with the presentation that was going on. As she eased herself onto the seat, the next person at the table alerted her the seats were taken. She paused; the disappointment clearly written on her face. She looked around and saw the remaining options. I could hear the conversation in her head: ‘Who is going to sit all the way at the front while everyone is watching me? To make it worse I don’t know the people at those tables? Not me. I will not endanger my life like that. I will not announce to the whole world how late I am and how early I intend to depart. I will sit here’. And with that, she sat. Just like that. The occupant will figure themselves out.

She settled, picked a cup of tea and went ahead to begin work on her laptop. Who did that? How do you take that which is already taken and feel nothing about it? Well, was that not the trend nowadays? Go for what you want, fight for what you want and never let go of what you hold dear or believe in? The new narcissist script that played itself over and over in the guise of self-empowerment? What became of feelings and caring about others? What of the respect for others in our pursuit of our self (often selfish) interests? The discontent among the other table members was clear. They looked around and even proposed alternative seats but she stayed put. She had decided she wanted to sit there and that was it. They could point out those seats to whoever had been displaced. She went on with her work unperturbed, occasionally lifting her head to listen to the speaker. The presentation went on and after half an hour came to an end.

Malia came back to the table and sat. Then Tina came back and there was the awkward moment of trying to process what was going on. There was no seat. She whispered to Sheena that that was her space and her things were there to prove it. Sheena went ahead and did the most absurd of things: she passed on her things, as if to say ‘Find some other place, this seat is taken and now belongs to me’. Tina looked at her in utter shock. What? You take my seat and now expect me to find another seat? But Sheena went on typing at her laptop as if nothing had happened. Tina was furious. Her face was set and she seemed as if she was about to hit Sheena. Then a thought flashed through her mind. She smiled; yes, smiled, and her eyes seemed to gleam. She picked up her things and moved over to one of the middle tables. I wonder what she thought of that made her smile: that transformed the fury to amusement. Did she imagine Sheena was a tortoise? Or a monkey? Or had a nose on her forehead? Whatever it was, it worked. I would want to be like that. To determine quickly that I have bigger battles to fight than over a seat. To be the big girl and win the war without a fight.

If only we can be that mature. If only we could choose what battles to fight and not complain about every little thing that went wrong in our lives? Life would be a more pleasurable experience. We would be happier, healthier people. It would help us appreciate the need to respect other people’s seats if they got there earlier, to show a little courtesy and some kindness. But they say stolen things taste sweeter? I stand guided…….