I walked past a man begging for food. Clothes torn, hair messy, a foul smell and cracked feet. A white t-shirt already gone black, with food stains and dry mucus. He had this urine and sewage water smell.
“My daughter, please give me a slice of your bread.”
I covered my nose in attempt to avoid this awful stench he had.
“Mom sent me to the shop, I cannot give you from this bread.” I replied with my hand over my nose,” I replied.
“I beg of you my child, I’m sure your mother won’t mind,” The man begged.
I picked up my pace and left him like that. I’m sure he wasted his money being a drunkard and left his kids to suffer. He should suffer too.
I walked past the man again. I started running before he could even say anything. That became my routine.
“You are so quick to come back from the shops, what is the hurry?” asked my mother.
“It’s nothing ma,” I replied.
Today, my mom sent me to the shops early because she said she wanted to make a special dinner. We had an important visitor coming in today. As usual, I ran fast when I got to where the man sits. But, when I got back I realised the man wasn’t there. He probably moved to a new place, I thought to myself. Oh, well good for me. There is no longer a need to run.
When I got home, I gave my mom the groceries and watched her cook. You could tell from her singing and dancing she was excited for this guest. I became more curious to find out who exactly it was that was coming over. Mom began to change the curtains, polished her finest cutlery for this guest. We never used the golden cutlery as it was reserved for a special day. The last time we used them was when my father opened it. Only for my mom to scold us later.
Well today, we were going to use them. She cooked our favourite. A multi-coloured dish. I was already hungry. No one could use the dining room or kitchen, mom was worried we would make a mess. So we had to sit in the rooms while the delicious smell of the food filled our nostrils.
Later, a matte black Porsche cayenne parked outside our house. I couldn’t believe my eyes, that was my dream car. I wanted to scream.
A man in a khaki Chino pants and a white shirt walked out. Mom hurriedly called us to the dining table. We sat, in our best outfits. Me, in my floral dress and my brother in his denim jeans and polo neck shirt.
The man walked in, greeting us with an expensive scent.
I choked on my saliva, when he shook my hand and I realized who he was. It was the man who sat by the shop and begged for food.
“Kids, meet Mr Ngcoka, the owner of the Ngcoka mine. He has offered to fund your education as gratitude for me always giving him food when I go to work. Kindness goes a long way,” said my mother.
Tell us: What do you think is the moral of this story?