He should be at his 70s’, he has all his hair white, not grey, pointed nose, his cheeks are rolled in another, no beard but a scrap of hair growing beneath his jaw.

Even if a tree is hundred years ol, if they are good, they still produce fruits; No matter how old you are, you still need food to survive. Strong people don’t act like parasite looking for someone to prey on. Someone of his age driving a public bus in the third world, I have a pretty good idea what he is going through. Old but strong he was. Strong in mind and focus.
Been a goods’ transporter is good though it has its troubles, a taxi driver has a kind of respect attached to his job, but a public bus driver in Egypt is no different from a danfo driver in Nigeria, even if he is well respected amongst his colleagues, the ordinary man boarding their buses still look down on them. I think this is the case all over the world.

Imagine a poor man molesting another poor man coz he knows his income can not be judge mearly looking at him. That’s what most passengers are.
What’s his crime, all he did was go out everyday, even on public holidays, just to put food on the table for his family. To add insult to injury, many of them don’t own the car they drive, they had to deliver to someone (the owner) on daily basis after their rounds. What perversion, working for someone else to get nothing.
They will be the one at fault if a private car owner hits them from behind, if they were overtaken by some so called elite who once in their lives had to go learn by the help of these drivers to get them to school.

It is true that you pay your money, but you will come to know they are helping you on a day you are bus-stranded, no bike, no bicycle, all you have is your two legs. Hoooo, what of those without legs. Have you ever seen a legless person at the bus stop waiting for a bus. Even if you have, you still won’t understand coz your sister is bestowed with two legs. Do you think they are paying their money too, money can’t get you everything. Drivers don’t usually collect money from the lames in Nigeria. They give them ride for free.

Many a times when drivers refuse to pick them up, if they are in haste, or in the bush travelling alone, or those poor people that will wait for buses that will pick them along the road coz they don’t have enough money to pay, of coz they will pay, but not what all are paying, that way, the driver just rendered them help.
When you go to a bank to deposit your money, when a home service official comes by your door to deliver a good you ordered, when a fashion designer helps you out with a nice outfit, you tell them thank you. Why is a driver left out. Aren’t they worthy to be thanked?
All these was because I was chatting on WhatsApp in the bus while I had the unterrified sound, at first I was not shocked coz it doesn’t really sound like a tragic accident, until another deliberate accidental slap landed on the face of this old man.
They were two young giant guys, riding on their bike, the one like a gyming guy slapped the man.

Mandella said “A man whose another is molested in his presence and could do nothing to help is a molested one too”

I was like for what, nothing happened to you, you are fine and still have to vent your filthy hand on an old man? Rhetorically I lamented from inside the bus…. I am not too good speaking the Egyptian dialect but I made him understand my words as I boldly talk into his scull. I was so sad, I don’t know what will happen if the man was my uncle or father. What if the Man’s boy was in the bus. I know Egyptians well in a case like this, blood might flow.

Gently, the man begged these foolish guys and returned into the bus and zoom off with me and the rest passengers.

My heart was so heavy, boiling from within, I was not suppose to fight coz it was Arafa day, but what can a boy like me do. I detest cheating.
The bike made it up to our bus in less than two minutes as we’ve zoomed off, I really was ready for him this time coz I thought he would try another rubbish with the man, but bad boys a times learn lessons, he only overtook us to beg the man.

In a normal African sense but really abnormal, I know what will happen to the guy on that spot or when he gets home, if you dare a fetish driver, you are a dead meat.

What can I do, I could only look out of the window, I have nothing to say but ignore him. I knew he was looking at me but my face was not smiling at all.

What a poor man, he kept staring at me like an angel but I was too pitiful for him.

God does things the way he wants. I left the bus for my own destination. It was like a miracle as I got back to the bus stop to  board another bus back home, the man’s car was the next to move, so he called! My son, come sit beside me. I was honoured as we chat all through till the last bus stop. Saying bye to him, his kiss on my forehead was what I broke my fast with.
My dear brother, my beloved sister, respect your father at home, be dutiful to your mother, the one who respects his parents will definitely respect someone else’s parents. The man who honours his teacher honours himself. Honor your parents and others (parents and children like you) will respect and honor you in return.
O Mr big boy, Miss big girl, respect your father and mother and always pray for them. They go through all that molestation and pain now and then any and everywhere, a times let go off their prides just to get you your food, to pay the fee of your school, to buy your shoes, to pay all your dues, to do to do to do…..

The least you can do is support them and pray always for them. Be a good ambassador of them, so that whereever and whenever people see you, they pray for your parents for training such a great honourable son or daughter.

Fight for your right but respect the rites. When you cry, open your eyes, so you can see.

©Broken Pen

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