By Oyeyinka Fabowale
Now, let me be clear. I do make exceptions and sometimes give beggars money, which may appear a contradiction of sorts.
But I do so only when my mind bids me do it. And when that happens, I know It’s absolutely meant to be. So, if I could afford it in that instance, I’d give even more than the token the regular alms-givers give.
Such beggars don’t need to cringe, show any hideous cancerous ulcer to draw my pity. The encounter, I believe, is simply cosmically ordained. If, from within one’s spirit, he’s urged to help and he does so freely, without any forethought, or intellectual calculation or anticipation of gain, the gesture is beneficial to both the giver and the taker. This, I also implicitly believe.
The pathological lack of scruples and desire to take undue advantage of our fellow men prevalent among Nigerians have bred cynics that one tends to view anyone who asks his help with distrust. Even if he feels obliged to assist, fear that he might be dealing with a potential swindler forces him to pull the breaks or to raise his guard. And one can hardly blame him?
But there are moments in life that remind us of our own inadequacy, our incapacity to judge matters human; and pass off presumptions as absolute knowledge such as that: virtues reside in an exclusive province and can never be found in a certain address.
This Truth Christ had established in His many encounters and taught in His parables when on earth more than 2,000 years ago.
Rare, yes, few, even solitary, but there are good souls harboured in some unlikely places. This epiphany, such as I had in Ibadan over the weekend, is humbling. It casts me in the role of former NTA Newsline anchor, Frank Olize, in his famed quest for the ‘Ordinary’ or is it ‘Average Nigerian.’
I had just disembarked from a commercial vehicle at Sango, in Ibadan central district when he accosted me to solicit for alms.
I paid him little attention because I knew him as one of the hordes of beggars who lurked around that busy vicinity, stalking passersby and commuters getting off buses, taxi cabs, tricycles and okadas , for money.
He, in particular, had made a bad case for himself when seeing me behind the wheels in the traffic on about two previous occasions, he hailed: “Pastor!” I was about the third in the queue of motorists on my lane waiting to be passed by the directing traffic warden on the main road junction when he drew up by the driver’s side, flashed me a grin and waved.
I viewed his action as the height of sycophancy and flattery – a trick some of his ilk use to tip people’s ego and decrease the amount of currency lining in their wallets.
I’m neither a pastor nor would you find me dressed or looking like one.
So, on which church pulpit, crusade ground or faith-based television channel has he met me preaching?
This time, I ignored him as I alighted and reached in my pocket to give the driver the transport fare.
He stood there still, his face expectant.
As I turned to go, I gave him a last indifferent, casual glance and began to walk away.
His face fell in disappointment as he also turned to leave to look for, perhaps, a better prospect.
Then I heard him call out, “Baba!”
I turned around to see him gesture at the spot I had just left. There on the ground was a crumpled N100 bill, he told me, fell from my pocket when paying the driver.
He must have written me off as the worst miser on earth, and lost faith he could ever wring a Kobo out of me, as he continued to walk away, his visage a stoic canvas, his demeanor indifferent. No, he wasn’t acting. I could tell.
I stopped him, picked up the money and gave him to reward his honesty and kindness.
Other men of vile character would have counted it an opportunity to take revenge for my apparent stinginess.
He’s a northerner, although I didn’t wait to ask him from which part he hailed.
A sharp contrast to fellow Northerner, Dan Isihu, notorious, bloodthirsty bandit leader in the North West, who reportedly got a share of ₦800 million from the ransom paid by families of the Kaduna train hijack and was recently neutralised forever. Talk of a Fairy and a Fury! An angel and an incubus!
The incident left a deep impression that engaged my thoughts the rest of the way.
PostScript: By the way, can’t government, public-spirited individuals and agencies do more by way of greater investment in education, vocational skills acquisition and other empowerment programs to take some of these people off the streets and cover our shameful national ugliness?
Oyeyiinka Fabowale is the Editorial Board Chairman of The Radiance.
