Said No to “Just Water”… and It Got Ugly Fast

The Price of Saying No

There’s something about human nature that pushes it to satisfy self first. I call it the “me first” syndrome, the instinct to secure personal comfort before anything else. And often, the real question is not what is right, but what benefits me right now.

And if you’ve ever been in the habit of constantly pleasing people or bending your own process just to accommodate emotions, you’ll learn the hard way that people can leave you high and dry when what they needed from you is done.

Recently, I went to assist a friend at her workplace, and what I experienced that day pushed me to write this.

My friend is a drink vendor who provides services at events. If you are Nigerian or have had the opportunity to attend a typical Nigerian party, it won’t be strange to you to see people behave in funny ways just to get food and drinks. And if you’re in charge of these areas at a Naija party, you had better be prepared like you’re going for the WWE, because you will definitely be tested and stretched.

At this particular event, my friend had a clear instruction from the event planner: manage the limited resources strictly for invited guests. No bending, no improvisation.

Now, if you also know Nigerian events, you’ll know there’s always a crowd around the edges.

I don’t know what it’s like in other parts but in the South-west, you’d see photographers, makeup artists, drummers, money changers, freelancers of all kinds. Everyone is working, everyone is moving, everyone is trying to “collect small something.” It’s normal.

So, at this event, it wasn’t any different. Everyone was minding the business that paid them. At some point, the vendors started coming in ones and twos, asking for water.

Earlier, my friend had bought a bag of sachet water (commonly called “pure water”) with her own money so her team would not have to touch the table water provided for guests at the event. When some of these people came asking, she was kind enough to share with them. However, when she was almost running out, she explained that she could no longer give any more, as it was specifically bought for her and her team.

Fast forward to when the event started and guests were being attended to, the freelance vendors gathered again, asking for water. At that point, I told them there was no water available, as what we had on ground was strictly reserved for the guests at the event. They would leave, come back, and repeat the same request. Pleas, prayers, and emotional appeals followed, but the team remained unmoved because the instruction was: serve the guests only.

At some point, we asked one of the people in charge to get more table water for the guests, as well as sachet water for those loitering around, just so we could ease the pressure and be left alone. I personally informed them that we had requested for water to be bought and that it would get to them soon. Yet, they continued insisting on accessing water meant for the guests.

When the pleas didn’t work, the tone shifted. Bickering and snide comments began. But one person stood out to me—a man who had a lot to say. I still remember a few of his remarks:

“We’re asking for water—just water.”

“And you call yourselves Christians?”

“So this is what your pastor teaches you?”

“Even if you were instructed, must you obey it like that?”

Coupled with insults, and others nodding in agreement.

And in that moment, I understood something very clearly: pressure is rarely about need. It is often about access.

Now, if you read this far, you might be thinking—it’s just water.

In fact, there’s a popular Yoruba saying:

“Omi la bùmú, ẹnikẹ́ni kì í bomi sọ́tá; ẹni bá ṣe bẹ́ẹ̀, kì í rí àánú lọ́wọ́ àwọn ènìyàn.” 

Meaning: water is for drinking and sharing; no one should turn it into hostility or selfishness; whoever does so will not find kindness among people. 

Powerful, right? A statement like that can easily soften your resolve. It can make you feel like refusing water is almost cruel.

But then comes the real question: what about instruction?

What about the responsibility given to my friend by the event planner? What about the structure that was put in place to serve the actual guests?

I’ll come back to that.

But first, let me return to that man and the emotional pressure he tried to apply. If I’m being honest, a younger version of me would have been moved. I would have urged my friend to give them water just to avoid seeming harsh or insensitive, without considering the impact on her responsibility and business.

But experience has taught me that:

people will strongly push you toward convenience for themselves, and still leave you alone with the consequences.

They will ask you to bend rules.

They will question your discipline.

They will even moralise your obedience.

But when the outcome goes wrong, responsibility becomes yours alone.

After thinking about how the event played out, I likened it to how we receive instructions from God and how they often don’t make sense to people, and how they try to deter us from that path, especially when it is not convenient for them or does not serve their interests in certain ways.

And this is where many people struggle in life.

If you are easily emotionally swayed, or you constantly need approval before you act, you may find yourself repeatedly breaking your own structure just to keep people comfortable.

But the One who gave you instruction usually has a reason for it.

One of the biggest traps is over-explaining yourself. Because the more you explain, the more people find gaps to weaken your conviction. And before you know it, you are no longer following instruction—you are negotiating it.

And when consequences show up, you will discover something painful: most of the people who pressured you are no longer available.

Interestingly, while all this was happening, some of those same people who were asking for water actually went out to buy water for themselves. That was when it hit me: many times, it is not inability—it is preference.

They were also there working, meaning they came to make money and could afford to buy water for themselves. Yet, instead of doing so, they chose to condemn someone who was simply standing at her own business point, focused on the goal.

Eventually, the extra water we requested arrived, and we were able to serve them. But even then, some still came back asking for soft drinks. Because requests rarely end. People will always keep asking for more. Requests will never stop pouring in—so where do you draw the line?

There is always “just one more thing.”

A woman even asked for water, and when I gave her sachet water, she insisted it had to be the table water meant for guests. I laughed, took the water back, and moved on. People can be quite entitled, but we were there to serve guests and follow instructions—not to feed entitlement.

And let me be clear—this is not an argument against helping people. Helping people is good. Necessary, even.

Help people but make sure you’re not feeding their entitlement.

But there is a thin line between helping and feeding entitlement. And once you cross it repeatedly, you stop being helpful—you become exploitable.

People are often very generous with opinions about what you should do. But the same people rarely stand with you when consequences arrive.

In fact, you’ll hear things like:

“I wish you told me before, I wouldn’t have forced you to do it for me.”

“I didn’t force you.”

“You had a choice.”

And that is the pattern.

So, be careful not to confuse kindness with lack of boundaries.

Be careful not to confuse emotion with instruction.

Because one will bless you, and the other might cost you more than you expected.

Selah.