Dawit was an inquisitive young man of twelve years of age. He asked his history teacher: “If Ethiopia’s history dates back as many as three thousand years, why is she lagging so far behind America in wealth and science and technology?”
“Well, Dawit, it is a matter of turns. We led in ancient civilization; now it is America’s and other countries’ turn to lead in modern civilization; Haile Gebreselassie was once the Marathon record holder, now it is somebody else’s turn to hold that title,” answered the teacher.
“What is the difference between ancient and modern civilizations?” Dawit continued.
“Ancient civilization is based on superstition, religion, construction technology and wars and some rudimentary science while modern civilization is almost one hundred percent based on science,” the teacher replied.
Dawit went back home and as he sat at the table with his parents for lunch, he asked his father: “Dad, why didn’t ancient civilization grow into modern civilization?” Dawit’s father’s appetite was slightly upset by the pretty intriguing question asked by his “ infant prodigy ”, and was lost for words to answer it satisfactorily and simply said: “Son, it is now time for lunch and you should not distract yourself from the desire to eat caused by Mother Nature.”
“Mother Nature! That is what Greta Thunberg, the Swedish teenage climate change activist, keeps saying when she pops up on TV, which is quite often. What does it mean, Dad?”
“Son, there is a time for everything. Now it is grub time. Tuck into your lunch with gusto, Son!” said Dawit’s father, Solomon.
“By the way, Dad, do you know who said that probably for the first time? You did, Dad! Congratulations!” Dawit said.
“Are you out of your mind, Dawit? Now, I am your dad; do as I say!”, said Solomon, who was clearly getting irritated with his son.
“I mean it, Dad. It was King Solomon who said, ‘To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, a time to die etc.” Dawit persisted.
“Where did you get that from?”, Solomon asked almost angrily.
“From the Bible, Dad! Ecclesiastes 3” Dawit answered triumphantly.
Solomon’s appetite was almost completey gone and the food, a delicious looking steak with vegetables, was getting cold. He was now beginning to worry again about the possibility of his “infant prodigy “burning out before maturation. So he decided to encourage his son’s insatiable curiosity by saying: “Son, my fault ! you already know a lot more than I do. Forgive me, I am just trying to hide my shame for not knowing as much as you do,” Solomon apologized.
“No Dad ! There is nobody in the world whom I love more than I love you! I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. It is just that my brain seems to be ever more hungry than my stomach!”, said Dawit and started picking at the vegetables in his plate.
“Attack the steak too, Son!” said the father to which Dawit almost instinctively responded: “I will eat only a quarter of it. Dad, haven’t you heard what Greta Thunberg said about eating meat? Cattle burping and manure contribute nearly thirty percent of all methane emissions, which of course, is bad for the environment and biodiversity!”
Solomon this time simply appeared to ignore his son’s reply and continued to devour his steak with relish. Well satisfied with his lunch, he let out a massive belch which, as might well be expected, invited a comment from the “infant prodigy”. “Dad, we don’t belch nearly so much as cattle do. Is that right?”
“That is right, David. I will give you a ride to school when you are finished with your lunch”, Solomon said. “I am finished with my grub. I finished long before you did. I would rather walk. It is only half a kilometer away. Besides, I am already showing signs of incipient obesity,” Dawit said.
Solomon’s nagging worry about his son’s exceptional talent crept up again. Dawit’s apparently extraordinary mental capacity could well be a precursor to some sort of mental disorder, he thought. He asked himself whether it was now time to resort to some kind of counselling. It was only when a car behind him screeched to a halt that he realized that his worry had slowed him down much below the permitted speed limit. He stepped on the accelerator harder and his Toyota sedan shot forward considerably faster.
Meanwhile, on his way back to school on foot, Dawit was mulling over the question he raised with his history teacher about ancient civilization failing to grow into modern civilization and once he sat comfortably at his school desk, he put up his hand to pursue the same issue once again.
“Dawit, I thought we had got over with that question,” said the history teacher with a tone of tiredness in his voice.
“It is o.k., teacher. I just thought there must have been some catastrophic event to cause a longstanding ancient civilization to cease its forward march, something like an insidious decay or a sudden system collapse. What was it that the eminent British historian Edward Gibbon said about us Ethiopians a long time ago, sometime in the late 1800’s, I think it was. I have jotted it down. Let me read it for you. Encompassed on all sides by the enemies of their religion, the Ethiopians slept near a thousand years, forgetful of the world, by whom they were forgotten,” Dawit said.
“Where did you get that from?” asked the history teacher, feeling a little embarrassed about being almost lectured by a twelve –year old.
“I googled it, Teacher,” replied Dawit.
“Well, it won’t be long before the internet displaces teachers and makes us all obsolete,” said the history teacher, with no mean signs of concern on his face.
“So much the better, Teacher. You would have a lot of time to do research into great big questions like why ancient civilization failed to grow into new modern civilization? Who were the Ethiopians encompassed by? What did we do with the over 200 years we had since Edward Gibbon uttered and penned his famous statement about us, etc.?”
“Frankly speaking, Dawit, I don’t know the exact answer to your question, but I do know or have come to know that you are indeed an ‘infant prodigy’ of the highest caliber. I will ask the Director, Mr. Carmichael, to recommend you for enrollment in the Special Center for Gifted children,” said the teacher.
“No! Teacher! I don’t want to go anywhere else. I love my school. I love my classmates and friends. I really don’t know what is so special about me. I have a God –given brain like everybody else. Maybe I ask a lot of questions, but that is probably all the difference,” Dawit said.
“But that is an important difference. Why are you so especially inquisitive about everything? What is the power within you that makes you strive to get answers, even if that means killing your appetite or losing your sleep?” the teacher said.
“I don’t know, Teacher. That is what you think,” Dawit replied.
“Have you ever had an IQ test?” asked the teacher.
“No. What good is it having one?” asked Dawit.
“Well, you may be the Deng or Lee we have been looking for since the death of Negadras Geberhiwot Bykedagne, or Fitawerari Teklehawariat T/Mariam or Eshetu Chole or Abebe Mulunhe,” said the teacher.
“All those other people you cited were pretty well known and were definitely veritable geniuses. The one true genius not many people knew about was Abebe Muluneh!” said Dawit.
The history teacher was dumfounded at the depth and breadth of Dawit’s knowledge and information and asked with wide open eyes: “And where did you get that from?”
“Google!” replied Dawit.
“Do you know where Abebe Mulunbe is now?” asked the teacher.
“Of course, I do. He is in heaven!” replied Dawit.
“So, you know that he died a premature death. Some people say that he was an egoistic genius”, said the teacher.
“All geniuses are egoistic to some extent. They are usually aware that they are more intelligent than most other people and so believe they deserve more of everything that is desirable, including, of course, love, respect, money and influence”, Dawit said.
“And where did you get that from?” asked the history teacher.
“Google!” answered Dawit.
“Dawit, are you an egoistic genius?” asked the history teacher.
“I don’t even know whether I am genius, let alone an egoistic one,” replied Dawit.
“You are now going to be fifteen years old in a few months and I gather you are competing against Zerihun for Mona Liza’s love. Zerihun’s father is a man with deep pockets. Your father has definitely produced a genius named Dawit, but Zerihun is taller, more handsome and, of course, richer,” the history teacher said.
“Well, Teacher, the theory of survival of the fittest and natural selection appear to be driven by physical attractiveness as profusion of reproduction seems to be the main objective. But we know for sure that genius is far more important than physical attractiveness for the survival of the human species. On the other hand, we know human females are attracted infinitely more by money and wealth than by either physical attractiveness or genius. Particularly in poor countries like Ethiopia there is very little positive correlation between genius and money & wealth. So, Teacher, I would not be surprised if Mona Lisa chooses Zerihun instead of me. But if Mona Lisa chooses me, then I shall know that I am a genius,” Dawit expatiated on the issue at great length.
“And where did you get that from?” asked the history teacher.
“Google!” replied Dawit.
Hardly had the word Google escaped Dawit’s lips when Mona Lisa appeared before the history teacher and Dawit and publicly announced: “I have chosen you, Dawit!”
The history teacher and Dawit looked at each other in complete wonderment.
“How come you chose me instead of Zerihun who is more handsome and richer?” asked Dawit.
“Because I love you! Besides, we will go to America where a genius can become a billionaire, not just a millionaire, like Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs (bless his soul) and many others not by inheritance but by hard work and the exercise of their genius!”, said Mona Lisa and gave Dawit a warm hug!
“And where did you get that from?” the history teacher asked again. “Google!” answered Mona Lisa.
The Ethiopian Herald July 26/2020
BY TEKLEBIRHAN GEBREMICHAEL
