Sacrifice!
I met him in the grocery store.
His eyes lit up when he saw me, they followed me as I walked down the aisle. It was 9 pm, I was rushing home when I stopped to buy a few groceries.
All the counters were closed except for the self checkout and there he was again, eager to help. As he packed my groceries, he asked, “So, where do you come from?” clearly he was not referring to my local residence but my country of origin.
Do I look so obviously foreign? I wondered.
“Where do you think I come from?” I asked
“Senegal?, Cameroon?, Nigeria ?”
I shook my head each time.
“I’m from East Africa, Uganda to be exact”.
Then he said "Yes, people from East Africa are dark like you".
I couldn't disagree more but since Sudan is in the general area, he was right in the large scheme of things.
I thought he was a Nigerian although his accent was not too “a beggo” and he seemed a little less assertive, turns out he was Ghanaian.
In a few short minutes, he had rolled out the intimate details of his life; he was a father and a husband, he had 3 boys and this was his second time in America. He lit up when he spoke of his family, suddenly transposed to another place, a longing smile crept on to his face as if he was peering down at his wife and kids through a window.
“I left before my last born could walk, he is walking now, he even says a few words. My wife will join me, but first I need to make some money"
His story tagged at my heart strings but in this country one can't afford to carry impromptu burdens just like that, you'll trip and all your cards will come crumbling down. There is hardly room for unplanned detours.
He however had recognised a kindred and would not let my eyes wonder as his were glued to mine. This was his opportunity to relieve the pressure bottled up inside this cold and lonely place.
I was a friend. He didn't know my name but that wouldn't hinder his search for a "familiar face", one who understood his language.
As I peered into his world, for a few brief seconds, his sacrifice was almost tangible.
His desire to make life better for his family had him packing groceries in a foreign land.
He constantly thinks of his boys. He longs for his wife, to eat the fufu and okra she lovingly prepares for him, to feel the warmth of her body as he lies down to sleep at night. He stares at the cold burger and fries that will be his meal for the night, tasteless...
"...My wife will join me, but first I need to make some money"
“What was his status in this country?” “If his papers were not clear, how long would it take before his family could join him?”
All this didn't seem to phase him, not that I asked.
He is here, he has a job, and when the time is right, he will be reunited with his family.
Is this part of the curse for man's sin in the garden of Eden?
"The very ground is cursed because of you; getting food from the ground
Will be as painful as having babies is for your wife; you'll be working in pain all your life long". Genesis 3:17
I think of families around the world separated by waters and boarders, visible and invisible. Separated by work, school, careers, beliefs, finances, documents and countless other reasons.
Huge sacrifices!
May they pay off and bring warmth back to hearts that are slowly freezing but continuously fighting to keep the blood flowing.
His eyes lit up when he saw me, they followed me as I walked down the aisle. It was 9 pm, I was rushing home when I stopped to buy a few groceries.
All the counters were closed except for the self checkout and there he was again, eager to help. As he packed my groceries, he asked, “So, where do you come from?” clearly he was not referring to my local residence but my country of origin.
Do I look so obviously foreign? I wondered.
“Where do you think I come from?” I asked
“Senegal?, Cameroon?, Nigeria ?”
I shook my head each time.
“I’m from East Africa, Uganda to be exact”.
Then he said "Yes, people from East Africa are dark like you".
I couldn't disagree more but since Sudan is in the general area, he was right in the large scheme of things.
I thought he was a Nigerian although his accent was not too “a beggo” and he seemed a little less assertive, turns out he was Ghanaian.
In a few short minutes, he had rolled out the intimate details of his life; he was a father and a husband, he had 3 boys and this was his second time in America. He lit up when he spoke of his family, suddenly transposed to another place, a longing smile crept on to his face as if he was peering down at his wife and kids through a window.
“I left before my last born could walk, he is walking now, he even says a few words. My wife will join me, but first I need to make some money"
His story tagged at my heart strings but in this country one can't afford to carry impromptu burdens just like that, you'll trip and all your cards will come crumbling down. There is hardly room for unplanned detours.
He however had recognised a kindred and would not let my eyes wonder as his were glued to mine. This was his opportunity to relieve the pressure bottled up inside this cold and lonely place.
I was a friend. He didn't know my name but that wouldn't hinder his search for a "familiar face", one who understood his language.
As I peered into his world, for a few brief seconds, his sacrifice was almost tangible.
His desire to make life better for his family had him packing groceries in a foreign land.
He constantly thinks of his boys. He longs for his wife, to eat the fufu and okra she lovingly prepares for him, to feel the warmth of her body as he lies down to sleep at night. He stares at the cold burger and fries that will be his meal for the night, tasteless...
"...My wife will join me, but first I need to make some money"
“What was his status in this country?” “If his papers were not clear, how long would it take before his family could join him?”
All this didn't seem to phase him, not that I asked.
He is here, he has a job, and when the time is right, he will be reunited with his family.
Is this part of the curse for man's sin in the garden of Eden?
"The very ground is cursed because of you; getting food from the ground
Will be as painful as having babies is for your wife; you'll be working in pain all your life long". Genesis 3:17
I think of families around the world separated by waters and boarders, visible and invisible. Separated by work, school, careers, beliefs, finances, documents and countless other reasons.
Huge sacrifices!
May they pay off and bring warmth back to hearts that are slowly freezing but continuously fighting to keep the blood flowing.
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