The taxi ride home was a strange one today.
The driver, in a very pensive mood, opted for no music. I didn’t notice at first, but about ten minutes into the ride, it hit me: a deafening, absolute silence.
My seat right at the back gave me a perfect vantage point. Fifteen souls sat around me and I realized this is South Africa. My fellow passengers consisted of white, black and colored (I struggle with this term. It sounds so derogatory. I will have to find another word to use!), male and female, young and old. We are all doing a job, going home from a job, looking for a job.
Fifteen souls each with a soul, each with a mind and a heart.
Each with a wish and prayer, each with a hope and a dream.
Each with despair and regret, each with a pain and a grudge.
Fifteen souls; fifteen stories to be told. Each developing day by day, minute by minute.
Some go home with sorrow, some go with fear. Some go home with joy, some with anticipation.
We all go home.
Our bodies function the same, yet each looks different.
Fifteen mouths, saying the same words, yet no two words sound the same.
It made me realize again: next time you encounter someone, stop and consider what they might be going through before you judge.
We are all only human after all.