I am someone who has had the privilege of being shown kindness by total strangers at different points and times in my life. In my own little way, I have also found myself in positions of being of help to people I never knew before, and don't even know if our paths would ever cross again.
The story I am about to share is packed with acts of kindness that I received from people I was just meeting for the first time. Everything happened within the space of 24 hours, and even as I write now, I feel teary, and I hope the tears won't end up messing my writing.
So, a few days ago (Monday, 10th June 2024), I left my home very early in the morning with my daughter whom I was taking to the University of Ibadan to resume for her undergraduate studies. That day was the day she would do her hostel registration, so my plan was to wait until she completes the hall registration, settle down in her room and then I will take my leave and travel back home. Little did I know that unforeseen circumstances would arise on that day.
As we got to the UI main gate, we met several young men on ground welcoming new students. We learnt that they were members of the student union, and that they were there to ensure that the transporters do not exploit us. All we needed to do was tell them which hall we were heading to and they will pair us with a cab or tricycle. Any transporter that is not willing to accept the Student Union price had no business being at that gate.
Getting to my daughter's hall, we met a lot of people, a very teeming crowd. Some had been there for several hours without any headway, parents and children with a lot of luggage all over the place. As I got down from the vehicle, a woman who was standing close to me just said, "Let your daughter take a tricycle to the microfinance bank immediately. She needs to pay a certain amount there before she would be allowed to commence her hall registration. Some of us didn't know, and that's why we had been delayed till now."
That singular advice from that woman saved us several hours of queueing, though the process was still taking too long. Meanwhile, my daughter started complaining of weakness and nausea. Unfortunately, parents were not allowed to go inside to assist their children in anyway.
When I couldn't bear it again, I decided to go talk to anyone that would listen to me at the reception. A kind-looking lady with a beautiful smile met me and asked if I needed help with anything. When I told her about my daughter's situation, she told me to call my daughter on the phone so she could come to her office. She also gave my daughter a pass to go to the room that has been assigned to her so she could eat and rest, and complete the hall registration the next day. This same lady, whose name I later found to be Mrs Babatunde, helped us to arrange for someone to carry my daughter's suitcase and bags to her room.
By this time, it was already past 6pm, and it was clear that I needed to find a place to rest for the night. Looking around me, I realized that I was not alone. Several other women who had stayed to ensure that their daughters were settled in their rooms and couldn't take the risk of making any late journey back home were there. We had already made up our minds to hang around the hostel till morning, not until some security men showed up about three hours later and told us to find another location as they were not going to allow any of us stay around there.
Someone suggested we go to the Chapel and see if we would be allowed to pass the night there, an idea which we all decided to explore. We couldn't get any vehicle to take us to the Chapel so decided to trekk, hoping we could get help on the way, for the distance was not small. We did get help, as a tricycle came along, and somehow six of us managed to go with it. He billed us 1,000 naira, and 2 out of us six made it happen for all of us. It was that tough, if you understand what I mean.
We found favour at the Chapel, for the set of security officials we met there decided to help us, after hearing our story and seeing our situation. So we finally got a place to pass the night, even if it meant sitting till morning. My heart was overflowing with gratitude, even though I was still annoyed at the stress I had experienced since morning because of some lapses on the part of the university that made the process of hostel registration so slow as to take the entire day. Unknown to me, I hadn't even seen anything yet.
Around 6.30am, I decided to step outside so I could ask the security men for directions to where I coul print a document needed as proof of address for my new exchange. A few steps from the door, and I had slipped and fallen, with my two hands hurt. My right hand took the greater impact, and the involuntary scream that came out of my mouth got all the other ladies running to my direction from their different positions in the Chapel, and the security officials from their post outside.
I became the unplanned centre of attention that morning. Someone had brought out a balm, another had quickly got some cold water, while someone else was trying to check if there was a dislocation or a fracture. I was silently praying that there won't be any of those, while pressing my lips tightly to suppress the cry that was threatening to start overwhelming me. As the balm was being applied and my arms and hands were being massaged, all I could think of was "Why?"
That morning, tears fell from my eyes not just because of the pain, but because of the kind words and acts I received from complete strangers. The massage, the cold compress, holding my arms to lift me up from where I had fallen. Throughout the day, I just had to use my left hand to support the right one to ease the pain and reduce the stress.
After some time, people started leaving as they had things to attend to. The security men ended their shift while the ladies had to go face their day. But one elderly woman refused to leave me. She was the one who applied the cold compress, and she didn't want to leave me alone until I was ready to go. So we just sat chatting generally until I felt better enough to get going.
And then by the time I was leaving to start my journey back home, strangers would help me to board a vehicle and to alight from a vehicle to minimise the pain I felt and lessen the discomfort as well.
I am glad that I could type all this with my hands, though it took long for me to finish because of the pain I still feel.
Thank you for reading my post. A story that touches the heart, but it happened to me 😊. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments section, and I will get back to you.
All images used in this post are mine
Posted using Neoxian City
