I see him almost every other time that i take a taxi after work. Clad in his Kaunda shirt, his beard greying and unkempt. His eyes, his eyes….He clenches his green hankie in his right hand and pockets his left firmly into the front pockets of his Kaunda. He usually sits right next to the conductor even if the taxi was empty when he got in.
Thoughts in my head “he is old, he should be home resting while his kids take care of him or probably doing something that wont have him moving“. Once i was lost in thought when i saw another man probably in his late 60s. He looked famished and worn out, he was slouching but he was slashing outside an office. my heart sunk, my mind wondered again.
I saw the old man yesterday morning, around 7am. I am not sure if it was his son or grandson, he was in company of a young boy who looked slightly like him. The young boy who was wearing an old uniform and canvas without socks held his hand and led him to the Taxi and waited till he sat. At his usual sit, wearing his usual clothes. I found out this day that he was blind, i prefer to say visually impaired. At first i always thought he had squints but today i found out he wasn’t. His left hand was also impaired and in his pocket he was tightly holding unto 5000shs that he was using as taxi fare (guessing he holds it so he doesn’t have to be cheated by people he cant trust to tell him what exact note he is holding). I wanted to know his story, i was dying to see who picks him up when he gets to his stop, i wanted to be able to help maybe share my 1000shs with him. But i was at the back, i couldn’t even whisper to him and i got off before he did.
i hope i see him again, i hope i can have a cup of tea with him but i am afraid he might never want to sit down for tea with a stranger.