As the final hours of the year slide quietly away, it is only human to look back, tracing the paths of our days, sifting through moments that have shaped us. With the twilight of 2025 upon us, will you gather at a humble or grand table, surrounded by laughter, silence, or absence? Perhaps you have already counted your blessings—each one a dim light in the dark. Or maybe your mind is busy weaving hopeful blueprints for the dawn of 2026. Just the other day, I watched the children in CoComelon sing their gratitude for life’s simplest gifts—things we often overlook, absorbed as we are in our hurried routines. How easily we forget that wonder. If we slow down, just for a little time, we all have so many things to be grateful for. Even the most ordinary blessings are worth our quiet thanks. In this spirit of reminiscence, my heart swells with gratitude for more than I can name, but here are a few gifts that shine especially bright: Sanity Good health A job/craft The gift of memor...
THE
EGYPTIAN OR ME?
On
my way back from a lucky-less interview I met an Egyptian man asking for
directions to a pot shop close by. He had on this sorry look like a man who had
just lost his job. When I think of it now, I think it was because I thought we
shared a mutual feeling that was why I even stopped to listen to him.
At first I could hardly understand him until I noticed he was holding a photo
of the pot shop in his hands. I pointed towards the direction, telling him the
easiest way to get there. Suddenly, this short movie became annoying when this sun-tanned
chubby looking man asked for my almost-emptied bottle of water. That bottle of
water was my first meal, friend and companion after my horrific interview- an
interview that I was made to wait for hours only to be told that the boss had
traveled and won’t be back any time soon. That bottle of water helped me hide
my tears as I drank it while I struggled with my thoughts of how I
would survive through the month and there was this foreigner asking for it.
“No!
I want to drink it so I can’t give it to you.” I said to him.
And
this was what this man had to say to me:
“Egypt good. Nigeria no good. I test
you to give me water. You say no. you, you no good at all. No like you. I only
test you and you fail.”
As
he walked away, I just stood there watching him. He looked worse than I
did; tired and disappointed. I couldn’t tell if his meeting me even heightened
his current state. I could only tell that he hated my country maybe even more
than I did. Was I really as bad as my country? Was I without compassion for the man? It was just water after all and I could not even share it or give it
out rightly. Why would he use water as a test? He must have not gotten over the
parting of the Red Sea. Yet, I felt bad for allowing my pains take over my
compassion, for treating another with such inequity whether I was being tested
or not.
I
walked home consoling myself with the fact that the man’s dentition needed
immediate deliverance. Only Jesus would share a bottle of water with such a
person. “If I ever visit Egypt. I will surely not share a bottle with anyone, I
thought.” However, the truth of the issue is that our country really makes us
who we are. Whether the Egyptian was right or not, deep down I know that nothing
should make me behave less of a human being but as hard as I try, my country
just wants to pull me down with it. It especially tampers with my goodwill. I
am afraid that I will lose it.
A
Shared Experience.

Interesting write up very educative and inspiring.
ReplyDeleteVery true. Sometimes we let the state of this country get to us so much that we lose empathy
ReplyDeleteWell said...
ReplyDeleteInteresting! This mood thing ehnnn....both the Egyptian and the Nigerian, in such, everyone is a victim of it jaare!!
ReplyDeleteNice one!
ReplyDelete👍👍👍
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