Unsolicited Favor By Agoso Arnobius Huladeino Bamaiyi “The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage” – Psalms 16:6 Some call it luck. Others describe it as serendipity. Call it whatever you may. I call it a manifestation of God’s grace and favor. You see, I have been having a string of unexpected and unsolicited favors in recent weeks that have increased my faith and gratefulness. The lines, indeed, have been falling for me in pleasant places. Let me share with you three examples of these unexpected and unsolicited favors. These all happened in a one day, within one hour. Last Monday, September 8th, I went out to run an errand for my wife. Yes, I am one of those African men that do the unAfrican thing – run errands for the wife. I even help out with household chores. When our children were little toddlers and growing children, I helped with bathing and dressing them up for school and church (mercifully they quickly learnt to do it by themselves!). I sweep and mop the house and carry out thrash – not only out of my desire to assist my workaholic wife, but also as a form of physical exercise. After working for endless hours, seating down before my escritoire and wrestling my thoughts down on paper, physical exercise becomes a necessity. I have found out that sweeping and mopping provides good exercise while, at the same time, serving a very practical purpose. It is like killing two birds with one stone. (Time is a scarce commodity, especially as one gets older, and one has got to be innovative to make the best of it!). Helping out the wife with practical things around the house and occasionally running errands for her is always the right thing to do. There is nothing unmanly about it. It is nothing to be ashamed of. So, I was out on these particular day. Since what I went out to do was around the neighborhood, I boarded the famous keke Marwa, with three others, to dash to my destination and get back without any fuss. I love Keke Marwas (some call them Keke NAPEP, but technically they are auto-rickshaws) because they provide safe (much safer than the infamous Okada!), convenient and airy intra-neighborhood movement without increasing the heart rate or squeezing the pocket. Okadas can do serious damage to one’s body and/or pocket. They are, therefore, not recommended. Even the government is telling us to be ware – Okada riding can be dangerous to your health! I endeavor to heed that warning as matter of self-preservation and economics. The money victims of Okada recklessness spend on treatment, and the resultant lost man-hours, can be put to much better productive and profitable use, with much less fuss and no blood at all. So, when I have to, I move around my neighborhood with the user-friendly Keke Marwa. So, there I was, enjoying my gentle ride in the auto-rickshaw. I soon got to my bus stop. The driver stopped and I alighted. As I made to pay for my ride, another passenger offered to pay for me. I looked at him closely and did not know him. He looked to be in his early thirties and well-fed. He was dressed in a pink native attire, simply but neatly done. Why is this gentleman eager to pay my fare? May be he had sat under my ministration before, or had read one of my books. I just could not tell and there was no time to ask him. I insisted on paying my fare myself (I believe in footing my bills), but he was much insistent. He almost begged to be allowed to do the honor. After refusing for a while, I finally accepted his offer. After all, I was only getting back what I had habitually sown. I love paying the fares of other passengers, especially pregnant and nursing mothers, students, and people much older than me. It was the first unsolicited favor for that day. The second unsolicited favor came from my clerical tailor – the man that makes my pastoral and academic gowns and dresses. He also supplies the accessories for those expensive gowns. He is a smart and innovative young man that studied Agricultural Science at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, but followed his talent for making designated dresses, something he learnt from his father. He runs a profitable company and makes a comfortable living, much more than he probably would have made with his University credentials, today. Fortunately for me, his show room and office is located in my neighborhood. Ever since I discovered him, I stopped buying imported clerical and academic gowns. It was an economical as well as patriotic decision. Nigerian-made gowns are far less expensive – though still expensive, they do not injure one’s pocket as roughly as their imported counterparts – and they somehow last longer. On top of these advantages, I am a proud Nigerian. I love Nigerian goods – warts and all! I believe we can do better, and I know we are working on getting better, but I am not going to wait until we are at our best before I show my patriotism. I stand with Nigeria NOW, as I dream and work for a GREATER Nigeria. That is why this gifted Nigerian makes my official garments. I stopped over at his office to say hi and give him complementary copies of my latest books – ALL FOR LOVE and NUMAN, MY NUMAN. We talked for a few minutes and then he surprised me when he told me that he felt led to make any gown of my choice, no matter how expensive, and deliver it by Friday! I said no, I wasn’t going to accept it. He insisted on doing it, asking that I give him the chance to be blessed. I offered to pay half the price. All those gowns are expensive and I did not want him to shoulder the burden of making one for me alone. He said he was just following what his heart asked him to do and that allowing me to pay part of the cost was not in line with what he felt compelled by God to do. I could not argue with that. So, we went through a brochure and I settled for a rather elegant preaching gown with a round neck that complements a priestly appearance and a solemn ambience. He took my specs and I left his office on the final lap of my outing before returning home and to my waiting office. Before heading home, I entered a phone and computer accessories shop to buy a flash drive. The ones I have been using recently developed virus issues. I am not sure exactly when or where the disks picked up the virus, but I did not want it transferred to my systems. So I stopped using them pending when I can find a solution. Meanwhile, I went for a replacement. When I entered the shop, I met the attendant (most likely the owner) praying. Nigerians are a praying people. And that is great, as long as we do not use prayer as an excuse not to plan, pursue, and perform. Prayer has its legitimate place in human affairs. So does work. When we combine faithful prayer and smart work, we can do all things. So, it was nice to meet a working man praying. He promptly got up to attend to me. I told him what I wanted. He showed me different types and I settled for a particular brand that has 8GBs memory. That would serve my purpose for a reasonable length of time considering the magnitude of work I do on daily basis. After discussing and agreeing on price, I paid him, collected the drive and made to leave. He called me backed and returned over 25% of my money! I was momentarily confused, wondering whether I over paid him. He noticed my confusion and quickly explained, saying I paid the correct money but he, on his own volition, choose to return that amount as a gift. He added that he just felt like doing it! That was the third unsolicited favor in a day, within an hour. When I returned home and took my seat before my writing table, I took time to thank God and be grateful for small as well as big favors, especially unsolicited favors. What are you grateful for? Have you ever been blessed with such unsolicited Favor? Share it with me! I really want to hear from you.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 06:19:03 +0000
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