19/06/2025
I can't forget this day 😢
I’ll never forget that Sunday afternoon in January.
The sun was unforgiving, and my stomach had been empty since the night before. I sat at a local buka in Ikeja, pretending to browse my phone so no one would guess I was only there to escape the heat.
I had ₦1,400 in my account. A plate of rice and meat was ₦1,200. I calculated silently…
If I ate, I’d have ₦200 left until God-knows-when. If I didn’t eat, I’d still be hungry and angry.
Just when I decided to risk it, I quietly ordered. I forced a smile, even though inside, I felt like a failure.
A doctor who couldn’t even afford a proper meal.
When I finished eating, I was ready to pull out my phone to transfer the ₦1,200, but the server came and said something that confused me:
“You don’t have to pay. That guy over there already covered your food.”
I blinked.
“Which guy?” I asked.
She pointed to a man in a simple white shirt, neat haircut, and calm expression. He was already walking out.
I got up quickly, almost panicked. I ran after him, caught up to him just before he reached his car.
“Excuse me, oga… why did you pay for me?”
He looked at me and smiled gently.
“Because someone once paid for mine when I was down. I promised myself I’d do the same when I could.”
I was speechless.
Then he added something I’ll never forget:
“Someday, you’ll do this for someone too. And when you do, tell them it started with a stranger who believed in second chances.”