Ahmed Yahaya-Joe
“There are two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?”
And the two young fish swim on, and one of them looks over at the other and goes, “What the hell is water?”
The obvious moral here is that;
“Precious truths exist in plain sight all around us, all the time, but our default setting, unconsciousness, the proverbial rat race keeps us oblivious in their presence.”
Perhaps why Goethe not surprisingly maintains, “The hardest thing to see is what is in front of your eyes.”
Organic architecture seeks to obscure the kind of oblivion featuring our young fish, albeit against the backdrop of between nature and the built environment.
This is achieved by making a structure seemingly grow out rather than imposed upon the ground as epitomized at Fallingwater in rural Pennsylvania the United States.
Since 1964, when the erstwhile owner opened his doors to the public, nearly 5 million ticket-paying enthusiasts ranging from “architectural buffs to curious novices,” have dropped by.
The iconic Fallingwater is arguably the most visited private residence in the world.
In 2015, 167,000 persons visited.
That remarkable 4-bedroom ensemble of open terraces, horizontal cantilevers, a study, 2 living rooms, a guest wing, a car port, and servants’ quarters is located on 2000 hectares of woodland forest delicately on top of a free-flowing stream known as Bear Run that eventually cascades down a 30-foot waterfall.
The idea behind the magnificent structure adjudged by the prestigious American Institute of Architects (AIA) in 1991 as “the best all-time work of US architecture” that became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2019 is the harmonious relationship between human habitation and the natural world.
Fallingwater has had heydays since its construction in 1935.
Nonplus time and the constant vibration of flowing water, among other issues, have adversely affected its structural strength and overall building quality. Dampness, mildew, cracks, and all that.
90 years old and still counting, Fallingwater is now despite winter beginning to thaw (in the northern temperate zone of the United States) entirely wrapped in scaffolding as extensive renovation works continue – a comprehensive rehabilitation going forward to preserve its legacy.
The metaphor here is that our nation periodically requires the same kind of makeover particularly as Wednesday, March 5th marked the beginning of Lent 2025 – an annual 40-day fasting period in the Christian orthodox calendar during the current Ramadhan season;
“Over 80% of Nigerians belong to one or the other of these two religious traditions with such excellent (fasting) rituals. It becomes incumbent on Christians and Muslims to live out these rich religious disciplines.”
But a pertinent question remains concerning fasting during the Lenten season among Christians worldwide:
Why is such a pivotal exercise for spiritual rejuvenation left to denominational dictates and individual discretion in the modern church?
Hitherto, a strict injunction with punitive consequences for non-adherence in times past fasting in Christendom has become without compulsion.
Neither obligatory nor a prerequisite due mainly due to the modern interpretation of the biblical injunction;
“Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, they have their reward.
But thou, when you fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; that thou appear not unto to men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.” – Matthew 6: 16-18
As we collectively approach 65 years of national independence, how can we similarly renovate our inter-communal relations for more harmonious coexistence in Nigeria?
Onetime diocesan bishop of Sokoto and Kaduna in the Anglican Communion, Josiah Idowu-Fearon recommends a similar scaffolding at Fallingwater to facilitate a socially constructed experience exchange through open discussion, refined debate, and careful deliberation which he summarizes as “3Ds” as he presciently asks in paraphrasing the Shakespearean character of Shylock;
“Hath not the Jews? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?”
Lest we, in turn, forget;
“Nigeria is unique in terms of religious composition. It is the only country in the world with its country equally split between Christians and Muslims.
“The changes that brought about this religious pattern occurred in the 19th and 20th centuries and were among the most rapid and remarkable religious conversions in the history of mankind.”
Irrespective of what we variously profess, are we not all bonded as people of faith one way or the other?
Anyway, as Wallace goes on;
“These two guys are sitting together in a bar in the remote Alaskan wilderness. One of the guys is religious, the other is an atheist, and the two are arguing about the existence of God with that special intensity that comes after about the fourth beer.
And the atheist says:
Look, it’s not like I don’t have actual reasons for not believing in God. It’s not like I haven’t ever experimented with the whole God and prayer thing.
Just last month, I got caught away from the camp in that terrible blizzard, and I was totally lost and I couldn’t see a thing, and it was 50 below, and so I tried it:
I fell to my knees in the snow and cried out ‘Oh, God, if there is a God, I’m lost in this blizzard, and I’m gonna die if you don’t help me.’
And now, in the bar, the religious guy looks at the atheist all puzzled. ‘Well then you must believe now,’ he says, ‘After all, here you are, alive.’
The atheist just rolls his eyes. ‘No, man, all that was, was a couple Eskimos happened to come wandering by and showed me the way back to camp.’”
Doesn’t the atheist here remind us that we all reserve the right to our various interpretations?
Furthermore, on the bridge-building Idowu-Fearon, an integral part of extensive inter-faith renovation works back in 2018;
“Emerging from the coach were thirty Nigerian sheikhs, imams, pastors, priests and activists from areas affected by Boko Haram’s terrorism in Nigeria, men and women, some hardline some open-minded, run off their feet, not knowing what to expect. An attempt to create some interfaith unity against ISIS-style terrorism in the northeast of Nigeria was underway. The Conference Centre was tucked away outside a small town in Northamptonshire.
That first day was hard going.
The body language of the senior Pentecostals said it all. They were boarding with the enemy.
Most of the Christians had never been in a mosque. Most of the Muslims had never been in a church. The divisions were immediately visible in who sat with whom. It was a high-risk strategy, but the only way to break the tension.
Three Christians were placed opposite three Muslims, and each was asked to tell their story. The Muslim story was about being second-class citizens in a Western-dominated by the Nigerian Federation.
The Christian story was – implicitly – that “Muslims were killing Christians”.
Tension mounted.
Then came the first woman Muslim speaker. She described being in a car ambushed by Boko Haram. Her three female companions were shot dead. She was partly hidden by the body of her companion in the back seat. A terrorist looked through the window but decided they were all dead. A few months later Boko Haram came for her brother.
Tears began to flow.
The body language amongst the Christians changed, arms were unfolded, the tension evaporated.
After that, the religious divisions began to break down, and doors appeared in cultural walls. By the end of the week, they had a shared story – “Terrorists are killing Christians and Muslims”.
The change in narrative was no small thing.
But the tears broke through religious identity to a common humanity. Most of the participants had lost kin and loved ones or experienced suffering caused by their religious affiliation. The empathy at work broke down barriers.”
What are key takeaways from the Northamptonshire makeover reminiscent of the ongoing rehabilitation at Fallingwater?
First, “You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist.” – Indira Gandhi (1917-1984) Prime Minister of India 1966-1977
Secondly, Nigerians are not sufficiently talking to each other across the religious divide.
Third, the cornerstone of harmonious inter-communal relations in Nigeria is the deep respect for diversity, the conscientious practice of equity, and the meticulous implementation of inclusion.
But only if we can pull it off.
That notwithstanding in the interim, the overwhelming need to properly manage our differences cannot be overemphasized.
Wusasa, Zaria March 8, 2025
References:
This is Water: Some Thoughts, Delivered on a Significant Occasion about Living a Compassionate Life (2005) by David Foster Wallace
Fallingwater Booklet (New Edition) 2024
Our Common Rituals: Lenten Season and Ramadhan (2013) by Dr. Josiah Idowu-Fearon
Act III, Scene I, Line 63 The Merchant of Venice (1600) by William Shakespeare
What Britain Did To Nigeria: A Short History of Conquest and Rule (2021) by Max Siollun p.251
Identity, Diversity, and Peacebuilding in a Divided Society (2025) by Dr. Josiah Idowu-Fearon
Beyond Identity Politics: In Search of Empathy p. 151 May You Live In Interesting Times by Ian Linden with Jane Linden
