As I sat quietly in the backseat of an Uber this afternoon, on my way to an important appointment, my thoughts drifted — from something to nothing, and from nothing to that inexplicable space of mental wandering. I thought about life’s small puzzles and its giant questions. I remembered my late parents, friends, and acquaintances who had passed. Where are they now, really? What becomes of us when we’re gone — beyond the ritual goodbyes, beyond religion?
I reflected on the irony of life: how a perfectly healthy person today can be diagnosed tomorrow, and everything changes. How one mistake, one careless moment, one unexpected twist, could alter one’s life completely. These musings tugged at something deeper in me. Something tender.
Then my mind settled — almost stubbornly — on the issue of sensitivity. How we humans, despite our best efforts, often violate the unspoken code of kindness and caution — sometimes with malice, but more often through sheer ignorance or innocent enthusiasm.
I tried to redirect my thoughts to lighter fare — perhaps my favorite Nigerian meal or the sound of children playing in the park — but I kept getting dragged back into the theme of human insensitivity.
We live in a world that constantly tells us to be kinder, more empathetic, more inclusive. We are encouraged not to judge — by holy books, by human rights campaigns, by motivational posters in therapists’ offices. Even the idle repeat the mantra: Don’t judge others, so you won’t be judged. It reminded me of my childhood friend DG, who once said he never wanted to be a judge — not in court, not in life — so he wouldn’t be judged by God. We laughed, but there was something profound in his innocent interpretation.
The irony, though, is that even with these constant reminders, cases of insensitivity seem to be rising — not just among individuals, but also among institutions, systems, and governments. And it’s not always out of cruelty. Sometimes it’s just a failure to pause before speaking.
I remember one incident, years ago, that left a lasting impression on me. I was visiting my friend DG — yes, the same one. A good-natured, warm-hearted person, deeply respectful and unassuming. On that day, he told me he was expecting an old friend he hadn’t seen in over five years — HK, who would be coming with his wife, SK.
Shortly after their arrival, as we exchanged pleasantries, DG — beaming with excitement — turned to SK and said cheerfully, “Ah, my sister, are you pregnant again? That’s so lovely!”
The room went quiet. Just for a second or two. Then SK smiled gently and replied, “No, DG. I’m not pregnant. I’m actually dealing with fibroid issues.”
DG’s smile disappeared. And mine, too. Not because he meant harm — far from it — but because it was one of those classic cases of innocent insensitivity. He assumed, based on physical appearance, that something joyful was happening. But the reality was far from that.
Thankfully, HK and SK were gracious. They assured him it was okay. They knew the comment came from a good place. That encounter led us into a meaningful discussion on assumptions, culture, sensitivity, and the importance of pausing before speaking.
Since then, I’ve noticed many similar moments in life — everyday exchanges where people unknowingly hurt others with words that were meant to show care or curiosity:
* Telling a single woman in her late 30s, “You better hurry, your biological clock is ticking.”
* Asking someone, “You’ve added weight! What are you eating these days?” with a chuckle, not knowing they are on medication or battling depression.
* Asking a childless couple, “When are you people going to give us a baby?” unaware of the years of infertility treatments and emotional pain behind their silence.
* Greeting someone you have no relationship with, with “You look tired!” thinking it shows concern, not realizing it might reinforce insecurities about burnout, aging, or illness.
* Commenting on someone’s accent, “Wow! You speak English so well!” without realizing how that might come across as patronizing or othering.
The list is endless.
Most of us don’t intend to hurt. But intentions alone don’t erase the impact of words. Sensitivity, I’ve come to realize, isn’t just about avoiding offense — it’s about cultivating a mindset of gentle curiosity, not assumptions. It’s about asking ourselves, “Is this comment necessary? Is it kind? Is it timely?”
We will all get it wrong at some point — say the wrong thing, at the wrong time, to the wrong person. But what matters is our willingness to learn, to apologize, and to grow.
So, the next time you’re tempted to ask, “Are you pregnant?”, pause. Ask yourself: Do I really need to say this? Because behind every smile, every silence, and every “I’m fine,” could be a journey you know nothing about.
Johnson Babalola, a Canada based lawyer, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst. He is the Founder of JB Law & Life Compass (JBLLC), a mentorship platform for young lawyers, law students and young professionals (@jblifecompass). Follow him for discussions on real life issues that affect us all: https://substack.com/@johnsonbabalola https://medium.com/@jblawyer2021 https jbdlaw Website: www.johnsonbabalola://www.facebook.com/jbandthings
IG: @jbdlaw/@jbandthings
You can obtain a copy of his book, REJECTED on Amazon, FriesenPress, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, Apple Books, Nook Store etc.
