I was in a queue at a POS stand in Lagos when a little boy, maybe 10 years old, walked up.
He handed the agent ₦500 and said, “Aunty, help me send it to my mummy.”
The agent asked, “Where is your mummy dey?”
He replied, “Hospital.”
Everyone went quiet.
She asked again, “Why did you not go with her?”
The boy looked down and said,
“The doctor said they won’t touch her until we bring money.”
Nobody spoke for a few seconds.
Then the woman behind me stepped forward and said,
“How much do they need?”
Before you knew it, strangers started contributing.
That day, I realised something:
In Nigeria, people are struggling, but they still show up for one another.