On this wednesday evening, I went to the market to get some ingredients for soup, I was expecting a friend over , it wasn't anything too serious,also it is just my regular market runs that I would have done on a norms, so you know how market stress is already moving from one shop to the next, pricing, calculating what you are going to buy and what you will have to let go of because of how your budget is
I got everything I needed, and so my last stop was to grind a particular vegetable. As I approached the grinder’s stand, what I saw made me pause for a few seconds. It was an old man.....
He was not just old, like grey hair and back slightly bent , he looked tired, Worn out, Like someone that had seen and carried more than his share of life, his hands were trembling as he tried to collect the vegetable from me , at that point I did not even know what to do , I felt somehow… almost guilty, Like, why should he be the one doing this? I won't lie,My heart sank like deeply.
I just kept asking myself this question, why is this man still struggling at this age?, Why is he even here in the middle of a noisy market, working a grinding machine with hands that should be resting well ,not shaking? As in, you could see it clearly,I could see he was trying his best, but his strength had long left him. I could not even look him in the eyes for long, as in ,it was somehow a painful slight for me.
While he was still grinding the vegetable, so many kinds of thoughts were just flying through my head. This life sef… Is this how it ends? Working and working until your last breath? Is this what old age is supposed to look like?
So I started thinking of what his story might be,I guessed Maybe he had children who forgot about him Or maybe life just never gave him the chance to rest,you know those people that life just dealt with back to back, yet they kept going? Maybe he was one of them.
Then I wanted to say something, maybe ask him if he was okay at all, or just even help him do the work, but I just stood there like someone stuck,it was like his struggle just tied my words and also held my chest and When he finished, I thanked him and paid him, but it did not feel enough, That money was not even worth the pain I felt watching him, and it sure wasn’t worth what he was going through either.
Somehow I left that market with my body intact but my heart was bleeding so much, I just couldn't shake the image of him from my mind. I carried that sadness all the way home and the worst part is I could not do anything about it. I did not have the means like I didn’t have the power to change his life and that helplessness,? It hurts more than anything.
Sometimes you hear some people say things like “just work hard now so you can rest later,” but the truth is, for some people, the “rest later” never comes at all, This Life just drags them through the mud from beginning to the end.
That day, I just thought about how we often do not value the little things we have,like sitting down with your legs stretched, eating a good meal in peace, or even just knowing you do not have to hustle under the sun every day, some people just do not have that.
As I type, I still feel some kind of ache,and I just hope that one day, we will live in a society where our elders don't have to break their backs to earn chicken change in their old age,where they can rest and be taken care of, the way they once took care of others.
So I could not help that old man that day, but I will never forget what and how I felt,I just hope someday I will be in a place where I can make sure someone like him never has to struggle at that age.
Images are Mine
