I walked out of the hostel absentmindedly, my eyes piercing through somewhere inside the sealed earth. Thoughts of home and freedom filled my mind. I was finally going to leave camp the next day, after 20 days of thorough suffering and blackening.
It was awesome!
I started to think of the people I was going to call and see, family and friends I would hang out with, the beautiful thick king-sized bed with pillows soft like marshmallows and homemade delicious nutritious typhoid-free food I was going to enjoy soon.
"Corper..," a little voice beckoned, pulling me out from my reverie. I raised my head slightly and stared in front of me. A few inches away from me, a girl of about ten with tattered hair and dirty old clothes stood. She had this have-mercy-on me demeanor.
I smiled and widened my eyes eager to know why she called.
"Please let me wash the plates for you," she said extending her arms and placing one palm above the other in a pleading fashion.
I chuckled, glancing at the two plates on my hand:- A cream colored flat plate and a matching bowl on top with generous amount of oil splattered across both.
My gaze returned to her and I started to shake my head but I paused and asked,
"How much?"
She brightened a little and replied, "Aunty, any amount!"
I shook my head and said, "How much should I give you? I mean, how much do you want?"
She smiled and said, "Walahi, any amount you want to give me aunty - I go collect."
"Desperate, huh..," I thought disapprovingly, "Who knows if she has eaten today?"
I held her gaze for a few seconds then I gave her the plates and walked into the hostel quickly.
A million and one thoughts ran through my little head. Truth is, I knew how much they usually collected - about ₦20 or ₦30 per plate. Sometimes ₦50 for two. But I had never given them my plates to wash because I felt I didn't need the extra expenses. I was already paying to charge my phone at 50 per day. I was paying for dry cleaning almost on a regular basis too. And there were days I had to pay for my meals (if my tummy did not agree with what the kitchen decided to serve us).
I thought of what to give the little girl. It would have been easy to pick any little change and give her. After all, she said anything I wanted but I realized something. She's a child. She's actually supposed to be at home reading or taking her siesta while an adult does the taking care of her not running after people like me every minute and trying to earn a living. Then I also thought of it her adding value instead of begging and any sensible person should encourage that.
She was done in about a minute or slightly less. I was actually impressed because I don't think I would have washed my plates that quickly (considering where the tap was and other variables). I gave her a hundred naira. She smiled so hard I thought her face would expand. It was nothing much to me (I actually wished I could do more) but it felt like a million dollars.
I walked away with my spotless plates feeling joyful and fulfilled. I felt like I was walking on the moon. It felt so good to see that girl light up like that. And this is one of my fondest memories from Orientation camp.
I learned something that day. Something I had always known but forgotten:
A lot of times we want to do great things and make major impact in people's lives but when we can't afford to, what do we do? Just lock up and do nothing?
That little gesture, that one you think is nothing, could mean a whole lot to people around you. It could be a tip, a smile, a suggestion, a beautiful text message, a timely phone call, a helping hand, lunch, transport fare. It could be anything. They say that, "It doesn't always cost much to be kind but the effect of what you have done could be worth more than the finest gold."
Therefore, choose Kindness today. Be the reason for someone's broadest smile!
Good evening.
- UCHECHI UCHENYI
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