How would you define happiness? By whose definitions should we abide? Would you adjudge me to be less happy or not at all if my definition doesnt resemble yours? Last weekend I went to Makoko (or as my friend J likes to tease me for my pronunciation, "Ma-koko")with photographer friends, Teju Cole and Leke Alabi-Isama on a photo-walk/photo-canoeing and at Makoko, my heart broke and I cried. It was not their poverty that made me cry. It was ours. Or maybe it was theirs...but what right do I have to those tears? Even while I felt pity for them, seeing through eyes coloured by my supposed enlightenment and betterment for want of a more appropriate word, I wondered how they saw me. What did they think of me? Did they want to be me? Did they want my Gucci sunglasses or my Gucci rubber shoes or my pretty purse? Those stupid things that I hold dear. Or did they pity me for my inability to just be free from it all. And just be happy and content, as they appeared to be. As we c...