A middle aged man came and sat next to me. Compared to me who was obviously drained and tired from a long day at work silently sitting to myself in a corner, he seemed perplexed by something unfathomable to my understanding. He sat beside me fidgeting with a large sized brown envelope, restless and clearly irritated by something.
I stared at him for a brief second.
Finally he spoke:
“My sista are you African?”
" Yes" I responded… (Stranger danger thus the one word answer).
“I’m asking because I saw you on the train last week. I wanted to say something but I was afraid you would blow me off”
“Where are you from if you don’t mind?” he continued.
“Nigeria…Ethiopia…Kenya…they all raised me…I guess I’m allowed to make an exception and call Africa a country.” I joked
Of course he pick that one I wasn’t surprised.
" I’m your brother…I’m from Ghana."
He handed me a brown envelope with a slight quiver in his hands.
“Help me.” he mumbled… a slight tremor in his voice.
I opened the envelope it was three copies of his resume.
This guy was a PHD holder from the University of Kumasi in Ghana.
Now I was perplexed…how could I in my tiny world selfies and flight arrangements help this overqualified human being who had been reduced to a pile of desperation to just get by.
Murica* the land of milk and honey. Sigh.
“I’ll do what I can.” I managed to utter…trying my hardest not to sound too promising.
" I mean they’re hiring in the sales department…you have experience there."
The rest of the train ride was mad silent…really awkward if you ask me. He got off at the seventh stop…three stops before mine.
When I got home I scanned through his resume again…
you will not believe this…He was my dad’s boss at one point in time in the African Union!
I handed his resume in today…
All I can say is this.