Once upon a time, when I was in Brikama - Kabafita school to be precise, I found a purse full of cash, took 5 from it to buy "neni ngunja." Mom found out, recovered the rest, figured out that the pay mistress was at the school earlier, so it must be salary paid to one of the teachers, and in fact it was my own teacher's; the money was returned.
This evening, while getting out of the taxi that I hired to pick my car from the mechanic, I dropped my wallet, with cash enough to pay for a brake (master) cylinder, filters and workmanship. As I was taking tally of my impending spending, I realised that my wallet was gone. Naturally, the raggedy looking guy is the usual suspect, and because I knew I couldn't have lost it anywhere far.
So I called a cob friend to ask if it was okay to search the guy myself; his phone was off. Before I could lijanteh another number, I saw this veiled middle-aged woman coming towards me. "Are you Omar?" I knew she found my wallet, because in it was a card bearing my name, but in what state she found it was what I was about to find out. She said: "my kid found this wallet, gave a 100 to his friend and brought the rest for safe keeping. When I asked he said he found it here, and it's a good thing that you're here." She gave me back my wallet and wanted to go just like that. I had to beg that she takes my gift as a token of gratitude and admiration.
Two things: whatever you do, good or bad, and no matter how long it takes, it will be done back to you, and like seriously, I sometimes lose confidence and hope in the honesty of humankind, but it's always a wonderful feeling to realise that whilst there are some who will not hesitate to get their hands in your pocket, there are those who embody the fact that no matter what, honest people will always exist in this world. I just pray so we may know and celebrate them.
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