kindness | Zikoko!

If you’ve ever felt like a clown in the name of kindness, just know the circus is full. There’s a special kind of pain that hits you when you go out of your way to help someone and they act like you did nothing– or worse, like you’ve offended them. From borrowing money for them, to raising someone like your own child, these stories from seven Nigerians are here to remind you that sometimes, ingratitude can be its own heartbreak.

“He said my hands smell like onions” – *Kemi, 22

Some talking stages will show you pepper. For *Kemi, it was the kind that made her sweat over a pot of jollof rice at midnight.

“Back in university, I had this eternal talking stage. One night around 9 p.m., he said he was hungry. I jumped at the chance to see him and offered to cook. The power was out, I don’t even like cooking, but I still went to make jollof rice from scratch.

Because I didn’t want my roommates to mock me, I hid the food under the staircase like I was hiding contraband. By the time I took it to him, it was nearly midnight. He collected it, looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Your hands smell of onions. Use salt to wash it off next time.’ No thank you. Nothing. He just walked away with the food.

Foolish me didn’t leave him immediately, but that was the moment I knew he wasn’t worth it. And yes, now I always wash my hands with salt after cutting onions because I never want to be insulted again.”

“She shouted at me in front of everyone” – *Mike, 23

“I had just resumed at a new job when the office cleaner started acting all friendly. One day, she asked me to buy her lunch. I went out of my way to order something really nice, even more expensive than what I’d normally buy for myself.

When I gave it to her, I got a dry ‘thank you’, different from the chummy behaviour I’d gotten used to. I expected her to be more appreciative, but I brushed it off.

Some days later, our team lead ordered pizza for everyone. We let her help with sharing, and she took an entire box for herself. Some of my team members hadn’t gotten any, so I calmly asked if she could share from the one she took. Before I could even finish my sentence, she started shouting, making a scene in front of everyone. I was so embarrassed and annoyed. That was the last time I tried to be nice to her at work.”

“She told me to go and collect my money back” – *Iyabo, 52

*Iyabo thought the biggest betrayal came from strangers. She didn’t expect it to come from someone she raised like her own.

“I took in a girl from the village and cared for her like she was mine for seven years. I trained her through school, taught her to speak English, and did everything from hiring tutors to following her for exams when she was trying to get into university.

She finally got admission into a prestigious university after many tries. I even pulled strings to make it happen.

Just before she resumed, I caught her having an explicit chat with a man she met on Facebook, which had been going on for a while. I took her phone and told her parents about it. They begged me not to send her away, and I didn’t. My only plan was to counsel her to do better.

Weeks later, she told me to find a way to collect the money I had already paid as fees because she was done staying with me. She packed up and left, just like that. As if the past seven years meant nothing. She never called since then.

“I borrowed money to buy her a wig. I got Five Alive.” – *Dominion, 24

Love is supposed to be give and take. *Dominion gave his all and got Five Alive.

“My ex came up with the idea that we should exchange Valentine’s gifts to make it special. I didn’t have much money at the time but knew she wanted this particular wig, so to meet up, I borrowed money to buy it for her.

When I gave it to her, she didn’t seem excited or moved. I didn’t even see any effort on her part, so I had to ask her what she got me. She said sex was her gift.

I was stunned. We argued, and at the end of the day, all I got for Valentine’s was a Five Alive juice box. That was my gift. I still laugh about it, but that day? I wanted to cry.”

“He ghosted me after I helped him get the same job.” – *Isaac, 26

You would think someone you helped would show up for you, but that isn’t always the case— just ask *Isaac.

“During my undergraduate internship at an advertising agency, I built a lot of good relationships. A friend begged me to help her cousin get an internship there. I did a lot of convincing and personally vouched for him. He got in.

A few years later, I was looking for a place to serve. I tried getting back into the same agency but HR kept stalling. I reached out to that same guy I helped, who had become a full time staff. I begged him to help talk to HR but he gave flimsy excuses and stopped responding after a while. He only responded to my messages after he had left the agency. I wasn’t even angry — just deeply disappointed.”

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“All I got was a dry ‘thanks’” – *Hadiza, 23

You know when someone says “thank you” but it feels like they’re just ticking a box? Yeah, *Hadiza knows that feeling too well.

“My boyfriend travelled for a couple of months and had been through a rough time while he was away, so I planned something nice for him when he returned. I made his favourite food, ordered cake, got gifts, and did everything.

When he got it, he gave a passive ‘Thanks’ and that was it. I had put so much thought and energy into making him feel special, and he responded like I just handed him a piece of biscuit. It hurt more than I expected.”

“He said my ₦100 was too small” – Ahmad, *25

They say beggars don’t have a choice. Well, not this one that *Ahmad encountered.

“I used to hear that some beggars have pride, but I didn’t believe it until it happened to me.

I gave a beggar ₦100 and he looked at it like I gave him tissue paper. But that wasn’t the worst of it, he told me it was too small. I didn’t even argue, I just walked away

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Random acts of kindness are a good pick-me-up for bad days. In this article, five Nigerian women share their stories where random women were kind to them.

Bimbo, 23

When I gained admission into the University, I was supposed to stay with my aunt for a while. It was the second time I was going to her house — the first time was when I went for my post UTME. I missed my bus stop on my way to her house and the cab driver dropped me somewhere I did not recognize. My phone was dead so there was no way to reach out to my aunt.

Luckily, I remembered the name of the school in front of her house. I tried to ask the people around where I was for directions to the school, but no one answered me. They didn’t even want to help me charge my phone either. I was about to give up when I saw this woman waiting for a bike. I walked up to her and asked for directions. After explaining to her, she called a bike for me and paid my fare. When I got to my aunt’s house, I was sad I didn’t take her number.

Karen, 21

One day when I was in 100 level, I went to school for tutorials. I didn’t know I was on my period, and I was wearing a yellow skirt. I got up from my seat to talk to my friend and this girl walked up to me. She whispered in my ear that my skirt was terribly stained with blood. I thought it was sweet of her to tell me because no one else told me. I still see her in school, but I’m not sure she remembers me.

Ada, 24

In July, I was rushing to school for a class and didn’t realize that I had forgotten my wallet until I reached my bus stop. I was so embarrassed. I asked the girl beside me to pay, and I would transfer to her. She declined the transfer but she paid for my trip. I was so embarrassed.

Ife, 21

My mum died when I was 13, so I had to learn about everything related to women on my own. In June this year, I noticed my underwear no longer fit so I went to buy new ones. At markets, I was sorting through the pile of pants the vendor gave me to choose from when a random woman said, “Aunty, those pants won’t size you o.” She showed me that I could check whether or not a pant would fit me by stretching its thighs. I felt so touched cause no one had ever told me that before.

Muna, 21

During my first year of school, I got lost on my way to Owerri. It was raining heavily and I was unable to board a bus. Soon enough, it became dark. I had bags and it was obvious I was lost. Anyone could have taken advantage of me at that moment.

While I was standing there, one girl came to tell me it was unsafe to be there and I could get robbed. When I explained my situation to her, she asked me to follow her to her house. I had never done that before but something made me trust her. At her house, she hung my wet clothes, made me tea and gisted with me until I slept off on her bed.

The next morning, she made me breakfast before I left. It was such a sweet thing to do for a stranger.

I was on my way to school for an exam last semster in a keke. We got to school and the driver didn’t have change for me and I couldn’t leave without paying him. A lady in the keke told me not to worry that she had already paid for me.

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If you’re a regular at Bukas, chances are that you’ve experienced one of these:

1) Getting extra fisi from your server.

Real recognize real. Extra plantain or meat is a whole mood.

2) When someone helps pour water to wash your hands in an Amala joint.

It’s known that the best Amala joints don’t have functional taps and nothing beats the bonding between Amala brethren.

3) The look you give when they add plenty plenty stew.

Especially on rice!

4) or when they call you customer.

And ask after your whole family.

5) When someone passes you cold water.

Especially as you’re battling Ogunfe.

6) The solidarity when a customer informs you that a particular stew is not sweet today.

Whew!

7) Or, they point you to the generous server.

My G!

8) That customer that helps you clear a table when your hands are full.

The very best!

9) After a sumptuous meal and someone passes you toothpick and napkin.

This must be heaven. I can cry.

Imagine you were working in digital communications until you lost your job in late 2019.

After losing your job, your wife delivers a baby. Complications from the delivery puts your family in a bad financial situation. You had to empty the family savings to pull through. Early this year, you start to drive Uber/Taxify to make ends meet. Your wife also starts a fashion outfit to support household income.

Then comes the coronavirus and the whole economy stops. You have to stop driving and your wife closes the shop because everyone has to stay at home. This lack of daily income further worsens your already bad financial situation. In all of this, there’s a baby that needs to be fed.

This is the true-life story of one of the many Nigerians affected by the coronavirus pandemic.

The coronavirus has paralysed economic activities in Nigeria resulting in the shut down of many businesses. This is as a result of a Government-ordered lockdown in two major cities — Abuja and Lagos — as part of its efforts to slow down the coronavirus. The implication of this is that many Nigerians, who live hand-to-mouth and rely on daily income, have suddenly found themselves in scary financial conditions.

Their only hope right now is that they receive a donation from an Angel. Not a real-life Angel but one of the many Angels who are willing to help on the Angels Among Us website.

Individuals and organisations have organised relief drives to help some of the people affected by the lockdown. This drive usually involves fundraising, buying of food, and distribution to those in need. Inspired by a need to also help out, the Angels Among Us idea was born.

What makes the Angels Among Us different is that it removes the need for a middle man who raises funds and distributes. Instead, it connects the helper directly with the person in need. Justin Irabor, the creator, says he chose this model because while looking for a way to help Nigerians during this crisis, he favoured a model that wasn’t limited by his personal time and capacity to disburse. That is how much time he had to spare to collect and share funds. “I wanted a solution beyond my personal limitations: an infinite pool of people helping an infinite amount of people without needing a middle man to drive the process,” he said.

When asked about the idea behind the name, Justin said: “I was inspired by the idea of supernatural beings living like human beings; taking danfo to work and back, eating, and doing regular stuff. So, after cycling through several names, I settled on Angels Among Us – because it brought back that image of regular people ascending to the status of angels as they helped people who didn’t even know them.”

Nigeria is a low trust society where people are raised to be wary of each other because everyone wants to get ahead of the other person. To prevent fraud and to increase trust, there’s a photo verification section. People who need help share a photo of themselves holding a piece of paper with their name and account details on it. And while he knows that this can be gamed, “most people don’t game it because they understand the binding principle here – honesty from the asker attracts kindness from the giver,” he said.

In addition, they also verify that the name in the photo matches the bank account name supplied. There are also phone calls to people seeking help to get more context and verify more details. This process he says is handled by a network of volunteers (nicknamed ‘archangels’) working tirelessly. While they have verified a few hundred people so far, not everyone passes their process.

“Very soon, there are plans to implement BVN verification through an established payment service provider and this will add another layer of security to the program,” he said.

There are also plans to explore other methods of payment for people who do not have bank accounts. Work is ongoing to create a platform that can handle multiple payment types like Paga, O-pay, etc. But this may take a while.

The best part of this project for him, has been discovering the kindness of people. He admits to being cynical by default so the kindness of people has been positively overwhelming. “Being able to write the software for this cause has also been satisfying,” he added.

“The reason I do interviews with publications like Zikoko is to encourage people to use the platform by building trust,” he said. “To increase transparency, I have also made myself more publicly accessible for questioning. There is also a Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) page angelsamong.us/faq that addresses this skepticism. Furthermore, the team is setting up a communications unit (made up of volunteers) who will start sending reports and updates on what’s happening internally. We want to ensure accountability.”

In the age where social distancing is the rule, Justin understands something fundamental; If Nigerians hope to beat this illness, then we must band together and pull resources. This is because the effects of the virus on the economy are more familiar to many Nigerians than the novel virus itself. His ultimate aim is “to ensure that helping anyone affected by this pandemic is as easy as clicking a button.”

If you would like to be a part of this initiative, you can either choose to donate by clicking here. Or by sharing this article with someone that can help.

Together, we can beat this!

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