It was Tuesday after work. It had rained and stopped, so I got to the lorry station and met a queue so long it had formed a coil at the end. No car was coming, so if you stood there and got tired, you found a place to sit and wait.

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The one in front of me was a guy. He looked desperate. He rushed out of the queue towards any car that looked like it was coming to where we were standing. He went out of the queue and was coming back when our eyes met. He said, “Aunt, ma yɛ wild rough.” I responded, “It’s obvious.” We both laughed.

He started asking questions about where I was going and how long I’d been at the station. I told him, “I’m worried about my son. He’s only six years old. He goes to a neighbor’s house after school to wait for me. It looks like he will be sleeping by the time I get home.”

He wanted to get home early to catch a football match. I said, “Eii, you men and football. What do you even get from football?” He answered, “That’s what’s keeping bachelors like us going, ooo. We would have all gone mad if it wasn’t for football.”

For several minutes, no car came around. I sat, I got up, I walked around, I bought ice cream because I was too hungry, and went to sit down again, but this gentleman was still standing there, scanning for oncoming cars. The car that finally came was a taxi. It didn’t even stop before people started rushing towards it.

They swarmed the car like bees while I sat there thinking about myself. Finally, they all left the car when it got full. I saw the gentleman comfortably seated in the front and smiling. I was so happy for him I waved, and he signaled me to come. When I got there, he said, “Come, take my place. You go home and take care of the boy. I will fight again for the next one.”

He stepped out while I majestically sat down with a grateful heart. I might have said ten thousand thank-yous without realizing it. He just smiled and waved as the taxi moved.

The taxi driver asked me, “Is he your brother?” I said no. “Are you from the same office?” I shook my head. “Then where do you know him from?” I answered, “I know him from here. We met a few hours ago.”

He said, “Wow, then he likes you.” I answered, “Yeah, he loves me so much he didn’t need to say it with words.”

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If I had his number, I would have saved it as “Mr. Selfless.” I didn’t get his number, so anytime he comes to mind, I refer to him as Mr. Selfless. He made me feel so loved I felt guilty that I didn’t have the opportunity to repay him. It’s the little things, but because of him, I got home to see a son who ran to hug me and said, “Mom, I’m hungry.”
#MomentYouFeltLoved

—Juliet

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