He couldn't have been a day over 17 And yet wrinkle lines were already appearing on his forehead forced into existence by the weight of the basket of plantain chips on his head. His threadbare shorts and well-washed shirt did little to protect him from the harsh cold and yet he didn't betray the condition of his body by a single shiver.
We were all on our way to work and all impatient as we waited for the driver to drive out of the park when the young boy strode up to the car chanting, "Plantain, plantain."
No one answered. Everyone was staring off into the distance lost in thoughts as we all planned the day ahead.
The young boy was undeterred by the stony silence, he kept chanting and trying to cajole us to patronize him. Finally he boldly turned to the equally young man in the front passenger seat. "Brother, help my ministry. Help your younger brother."
All eyes turned to the plantain seller at his unusual approach. The young man he was addressing shifted uncomfortably. Younger brother? I could almost hear his thoughts: he reasoned he would appear very mean now if he "locked up".
Plantain boy wasn't done. "Timaya dey sell plantain before, now naa my turn," he bleated still turning this way and that to show off the golden hue of his plantain chips.
Everyone burst into collective laughter at that and just like that the ice was broken. I called for two pieces, someone else wanted four and in a matter of seconds the young man had sold close to twelve packs of plantains.
As he pocketed his money he eyed us hopefully, "Anybody still want?"
We were all still chuckling at his narrative as we drove off, but his message was clear: he might be a humble plantain seller today but that didn't mean he couldn't be a rock star or celebrity tomorrow.
Morale of the story? Whatever your hands find to do, do it. Take pride in honest work even if it's grueling. Nothing lasts forever
We were all on our way to work and all impatient as we waited for the driver to drive out of the park when the young boy strode up to the car chanting, "Plantain, plantain."
No one answered. Everyone was staring off into the distance lost in thoughts as we all planned the day ahead.
The young boy was undeterred by the stony silence, he kept chanting and trying to cajole us to patronize him. Finally he boldly turned to the equally young man in the front passenger seat. "Brother, help my ministry. Help your younger brother."
All eyes turned to the plantain seller at his unusual approach. The young man he was addressing shifted uncomfortably. Younger brother? I could almost hear his thoughts: he reasoned he would appear very mean now if he "locked up".
Plantain boy wasn't done. "Timaya dey sell plantain before, now naa my turn," he bleated still turning this way and that to show off the golden hue of his plantain chips.
Everyone burst into collective laughter at that and just like that the ice was broken. I called for two pieces, someone else wanted four and in a matter of seconds the young man had sold close to twelve packs of plantains.
As he pocketed his money he eyed us hopefully, "Anybody still want?"
We were all still chuckling at his narrative as we drove off, but his message was clear: he might be a humble plantain seller today but that didn't mean he couldn't be a rock star or celebrity tomorrow.
Morale of the story? Whatever your hands find to do, do it. Take pride in honest work even if it's grueling. Nothing lasts forever
Learn the lesson and share the story.
Sherina Okoye
(c) 2018
(c) 2018
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