The Day a Beggar Asked for More
Humanity is making this world a better place for the people we meet. Every day.
Does sunset sometimes like the sun is coming out?
Do you know what a faithful love is like?
You’re crying, you say you’ve burned yourself
But can you think of anyone who’s not hazy with smoke?
~ Rumi (1207–1273)
Today, the sun seems to have permanently set on our people in Nigeria.
First-time visitors often get caught up in the facades and appearances of this “dear native land”. Everywhere you turn, everyone is suffering from blight, want, hunger, and affliction. Yes, this is the common denominator shared by all Nigerians.
Only a select few, the 1% of the upper 1% are surviving. To make it through another day in this famished and famishing land, you must put in extraordinary efforts. Yet, we plod on every new day. Surviving for another day is an achievement.
Don't let the opium of Nigerian religionists sway you into ecstasy; "May Nigeria never happen to you" is a prayer you must echo amen to, regardless of your beliefs, religion, or irreligion.
Hardly anyone born in this dear native land escapes the suffocating cloud of desperation, despair, and hopelessness.
Surviving the Famished Kingdom
In this kingdom of starvation, how do our people endure?
How we survive living in Nigeria is an everyday mystery to me. Runaway hyperinflation has forced everyone to make drastic adjustments.
Case in Point: The national minimum wage of N70,000 cannot buy a full fuel tank for your car. Petrol sells for about N1,350 per liter. In 2024, my fuel tank runs dry in just two days, whereas the same amount of fuel used to last for two weeks in 2022!
Back to my question, how do we survive?
A large number of Nigerians have adopted multiple survival strategies, some of which are new while others are not. Among these is support from religious groups. Other pillars of support are the family, the community, friends, and the dwindling tribe of hard-pressed “Good Samaritans.”
The rich are weeping while the middle class of an entire generation has been wiped off by economic hardships. How many more beggars.
Last week, I had an encounter that was as novel as it was amusing.
In a matter of weeks, taxi fares have more than doubled because of the aforementioned reasons. So, leaving my house on that day, I knew how much my outing will cost me in terms of taxi fare.
Before getting to my first taxi stop, I’d already resolved to give N100 to any lucky one among the swarms of beggars lining our streets before I stepped out of the taxi.
Standing by the roadside, her famished hollow eyes were on every passenger, “Please help me with N100” was her initial appeal to me. But as soon as she saw the N200 note between my fingers, she changed her mind to, “Please help me with N200.”
Yes, she was that specific.
Watching her momentarily, she had the weary, empty, glazy looks of a mentally challenged person. Her instant self-serving audacious request for more would have sounded foolish put-off to any would-be benefactor.
My conclusion, she was now on her pathway to recovery.
Hopefully so.
Smiling with a puzzled reaction at the beggar’s attitude, I joined another taxi for my next drop-off less than a mile away.
Takeaway
Society or people may not be worth it, but we must always do good and be ready to selflessly help others, especially the downs and outs who can never pay us back.
In Nigeria’s relentless winter of hardships, this is one of the few means for keeping the fabric of our society intact and preventing our country from total collapse.
Go ahead, do it. Today.
Thanks for reading.
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