Dear St Jude,
Earlier this week, as I was returning from visiting a good friend, at a traffic light, I was approached by a boy. He cannot be 12, must be between 9 and 11, if my time-tested ability to properly gauge age is to be relied on. He had in his hand a few sachets of cotton buds and politely drew my attention to his wares, for that’s what they were, and told me ‘Ghs 2.00 each’.
I was actually in need of cotton-buds and had earlier resolved to get a pack, though I am told it is not exactly good for our ear-drums. I looked through my wallet and discovered I had a cedi coin and some other money, in large bills. HIs hopes were dashed when I poured out my wallet to reveal the lone coin. I knew he could not possibly have change for a Ghs 200 note and also that there wasn’t time for him to go get change. I was at a traffic light, waiting for the green. He looked visibly disappointed, even crestfallen. I witnessed his expectant bright eyes lose their lustre and proceed to exhibit a look of sorrow. I briefly considered giving him all Ghs 200 but promptly abandoned the idea. My economy cannot afford such ‘suicidal generosity’.
St Jude, they boy was not alone in disappointment, I too was. First for not being able to get the buds and secondly, and most importantly, because I could not buy they young man’s merchandise, thus, most probably, permitting him buy himself a meal that morning. I took my eyes away from his piercing gaze, for reasons I cannot now proffer.
The minute felt like an hour but it was finally broken by the tender voice of the boy. He said to bring the Ghs 1.00 cedi, ‘bring the one cedi, it’s okay, you can have the buds’. When I mustered the courage to look into his eyes, I could feel a certain strength, a certain fellow-feeling, a certain love even, from the boy, he wanted me to have it, at half its price. For a brief moment I most ungraciously thought that he was only doing that to get money for himself. For another fleeting moment I even managed to think that Ghs1.00 was the actual price and that he had only mentioned the earlier price to ‘get more’ from me.
St Jude, I became ashamed of my thoughts for when I looked up, into his eyes, what I beheld was not desperation, for money or satisfaction, from getting the right price after all, but a courageous act of generosity.
I cannot stop thinking about him.
I cannot forget his eyes.
I cannot forget the strength in his stoic gaze.
Dear sister, dear brother, I learnt a lot from this boy and I wish to share the lessons with you.
Many times we think we can only share if we have enough and a little extra. When we are called upon to give a helping hand, we first think about what we need, what to keep as reserve, then what we should put aside for eventualities before we then think about the needs of the other person. This boy does not suffer that ailment, if you ask me. He only saw a person, in some need of his wares and then proceeded to give it to me without much thought.
St Jude, at other times, when we are faced with doing an act of kindness, many of us find ourselves doing an audit of that person’s standing in ‘our books’, have they ever been nice to us or do they stand to be useful to us in the future? In sum, we treat kindness as an investment, giving only when we surmise we can benefit from the recipient at a later date. This boy is not of that mould. He most probably will never see me again in this lifetime and even if he does, I may not recognise him, yet he gave, freely, from his little. Take note, not from his plenty.
This world, I have said many times, has more than enough for us all, and some change but what do we see? Each of us is piling up wealth and property, far beyond our needs, while, in the process, meeting and trampling on others who need just a little to survive. How we assuage our consciences is a matter that beats my imagination, but then again I may just be too optimistic, thinking we all have a conscience.
St Jude, there was a time it was much easier to believe that this world is populated by humans, driven by humanity. Today, the earth’s inhabitants have, it appears, morphed into a different species, driven by an insatiable lust, primal need even, for temporal belongings. I repeat today, that I do not abhor comfort or industry. I do not begrudge planning for and securing the futures of our offspring, no. What I am daring to posit is that we can do all of that while caring for and making allowance for our neighbour. All I am saying is let us put ‘the humanity’ back into the human.
Today, the world can count many billionaires, reportedly, 2023 will yield a handful of ‘trillionaires, and it appears millionaires are a dime a dozen but we have billions of people who are literally scraping a living, how can that be right? How do we all go to sleep when we know it is in our capacity to better another person’s lot and that we have refused to do so? We should all learn from the small boy at the traffic light. You may thinking I am ‘over-milking’ the incident but that does not move me one bit. I know what I saw. I know what I felt. I know what I continue to feel. What that boy did will remain with me for the rest of my days and I pray we each take a page from his book.
Dear St Jude, many are our woes, plentiful are our challenges and multiple are our failings but they all can begin to improve if we all start with reaching out to each other, giving a helping hand, loving our neighbour as ourselves. Continue to intercede for us so we find our way back to God our Father.
@Honourrebel Siriguboy
THE RAMBLINGS OF THE FORGOTTEN SEER. 