Izuu's Turn

  Just this morning, I was walking my children to school, and I saw this young, handsome, African man dutifully putting waste bins into the truck. It is sometime before 8 and it is still dark. We exchanged greetings, he smiled warmly, and we acknowledged that African hood in silence, sealed with a smile and a nod of the head. Then I passed, but my thoughts did not. It dwelt with this young man and wondering whom his relatives are – some fools back in Africa who would be complaining that he is sending little money or nothing at all. Some of these entitled brethren range from blood siblings to schoolmates, and people who saw him pass to school on foot everyday. The African way: the child belongs to the community and anyone you do not send money to becomes a sworn enemy in whose eyes you instantly become stingy and selfish. Some of these claimants will not come down their high horses to do the kind of job this brother is doing here. My mind went back to Nigeria, to how we naturally look