The other day some colleagues and I were talking about different subjects, mainly the past, as we are accustomed to when in a relaxed mood. We also tend to be reflective when in that state. The past usually comes more easily. I suppose it is because it is a solid and firm territory, and there are many shared or comparable experiences. Also, there is much ground for agreement, and nostalgia, of course. Even the rough and painful patches feel distant. Time seems to have numbed them. Still, you wonder how you were able to go through it at all. The future is more serious stuff and we do not talk about it much in that mood. It is such an infinite space, largely unknown, and even contradictory. It is frightening and exciting at the same time, but also harbours unlimited possibilities. Which is why we still look forward to it. We even think we can exercise some control over it, and shape it the way we like. We only talk about the future when in a serious mood, planning how to fashion it to suit our desires, not when we are lazing around, enjoying what humankind has made of their futures of the past. We were reminiscing about how things have changed over the last few years, including how we celebrate public events. The trigger of that reminiscence was International Labour Day which is marked on May 1. We recalled how, until fairly recently, it was celebrated in this country with a lot of pomp and colour. It was fitting to celebrate the value of labour in this way, with public recognition of its worth and the contribution of workers to the quality of our lives, and then urge them to work even harder. There would be a massive parade of workers, usually at the national stadium or wherever the national celebrations were held. Office workers in hired attire marched alongside factory workers in their blue overalls and tools of their respective trades; farmers holding aloft their produce with academics in their gowns; butchers in clean white coats with health workers in similar attire but made of softer fabric. Together they marched behind banners announcing their respective occupations. There was such harmony on that day. Class and privilege, snobbery and other prejudices were set aside, at least for the duration of the event at the stadium. Colourful floats of vehicles of every sort – trucks, tractors, cars, and so on – suitably adorned in the colours of the respective companies and displaying their wares would then glide by to the delight and applause of the spectators. Once the parade was done, the marchers would take their seats in the sun, then the inevitable speeches, all extolling the value and dignity of labour and the invaluable contribution of workers. The Minister of Labour would recite the achievements of the government in improving workers’ welfare. A workers’ representative would follow, and after the usual platitudes, present a list of grievances and make demands. The chief guest would say he had taken note of that and then close the event. To cap the festivities, different institutions would host their employees at a reception at which food and drinks would be downed. That was then. Today, we are content with only a public holiday. Not many are complaining, though. The holiday is real. Workers can rest and enjoy a quiet day with family and friends and perhaps, over a meal or drink, reflect on their very important role in building the nation. Of course, they miss the reception, but not much else. As we recalled how things were in the past, we wondered whether the public spectacle was a good or bad thing. You will be surprised that there was unanimity that it probably was not. Of course, everybody loves a ceremony. It is a once-in-a-while, out-of-the-ordinary thing, an outing of sorts, and for its duration may even be enjoyable. However, there were some drawbacks. First, the workers need a rest, not another tiring day in the sun. Second, putting on a national spectacle can be expensive, and perhaps even wasteful. What with the hired clothes, floats, receptions and other associated costs? The money could be better spent improving workers’ welfare. Having agreed on that, we ventured to peer into the future and wondered whether we could not trim to a reasonable size (and expense) some other ceremonies of social events, weddings and funerals, for instance. These have turned into mega-events and have spawned a huge industry to match – venues, decorators, entertainment, transport and professionals of every sort. They have become some sort of competition for attention and recognition. It is about who can put on the most lavish event and attract the largest crowd, especially if it includes celebrities or who is who in various sectors. Cost and appearance trump essence and significance. Maybe, even in matters social, we should emulate the government and cut down on expenses but retain the essence and spirit of the event. And on this note, happy Labour Day to all the workers in Rwanda.
