A man lay hungry by the wayside
He passed and looked the other way
She passed and cursed his poverty
I passed and handed him bread
They turned angry, threatening,
“How dare you help him?
Who do you think you are?”

I heard the things being said behind me because of the food I was taking after each day to the security men and women who worked for our organization, instead of allowing it to be wasted. It was all already paid for by the company, used or not. What was wrong with giving others something we did not need, especially when they needed it? What was wrong with giving left over food and drinks to colleagues who were less privileged and kept our workplace and us safe through their services? What was wrong with these colleagues?

Was I bothered? Not a lot. Why? When I make the food for these security folks at home, it was costly and here it was free. All I had to do was summon the courage for packing and delivery. I was excited to be saved the costly procurement and tedious preparations that would take a chunky part of my weekends. The main job wasn’t clearing out the food, it was the delivery. Often, I would need to take them somewhere private where I could package them accordingly for individual and group drop offs. I had to plan the route and timing. Dispatch took a good chunk of time.

My shoulders and feet would hurt from lugging things from one security post to the other (especially the water and drinks) but the happiness and gratitude of the recipients made me do it again and again. I realized what touched them most wasn’t the gifts, but that someone was thinking of them. That someone cared enough to bring in something for them. That such little gifts, of perishable food as my Mum would call them, could bring such happiness to these men and women, and saved them from spending their meagre earning for lunch or dinner inspired me to do it against the odds.

The beatings from colleagues about my “Taking-away-food” as they derogatorily referred to it didn’t relent with time as I thought it would. It got so bad I decided to stop. I thought maybe they had realized that it made me so popular with the security folks that they would rather be doing it instead. I didn’t mind whoever did it so long as the food was not wasted. Unfortunately, when I stopped, not one person took it up. All they wanted was what they could take home, but it was a lot to take. They were not interested in giving leftovers to these men and ladies or anyone else. They preferred the food trashed than shared. It made no sense to me and it left me sad each day as I watched the food that would have made many happy sent to the bins.
(To be continued September 18, 2020)

Glory!