Black Man: About One More Day!

It was a Wednesday, typically Curitibana, where the sun shines early, but don’t delay to be intimidate and give way to the charming clouds, which are familiar to those who have the pleasure to delight with the charms of this city.

As usual I woke up early and I went to my traditional matutinal session of sports, accompanied by my training partner and hearing a good collection of Afrohouse and then a bath in the Flash style.

Until then, the day was good and normal, despite not having occurred nothing special, also nothing went wrong and I thought to myself, “Wow! It should have more days like this”.

In the office, things were running, but fixable at an acceptable speed and high productivity. It did justice to the expression “time flies”, because the morning was so fast, that I don’t realized that it was lunch time.

And just for a change, I go out belated, but carry with me the phone and a magazine to read while walking.

Minutes later I’m in the restaurant. I eat my lunch listening a good Semba, an Angolan music style, similar to Samba, but with a Jazz refinement.

I paid the bill and left the restaurant. I changed the musical genre and put a hulking Hip Hop and the headphones. In a few seconds I was concentrated in reading again.

I’m trying to counter what everyone say, that man can only do one thing, I was there, listening to music, reading, walking at chameleon moves, of course, and even controlling the traffic. But as I was fully familiar with that piece didn’t seem a insane to me.

Between the verses of the song I was listening and the marketing phrases in the magazine’s article, I decided to look around me, when I see an old man falling down. And how I was totally distracted and isolated from the world, I wasn’t sure what made him fall.

And thinking that man could be my grandfather, I didn’t hesitate and decided to help. I started striding in an almost accelerated speed and in the same time I turned off the music and putting the magazine in my pocket.

In this, I realized that when the old man fell, spread on the floor were some of his belongings like money, keys and phone, at least, it was what gave to notice at that moment. But that was not important.

So I walked toward him, but at some point I began to feel that every step I took, increased the anxiety of the old man — at some point I thought it should be the result of the fall. Therefore, I accelerated the pace and when I reached about 2 meters away, it became clear to me that old man, thought I was going to steal him.

I asked to myself: what to do?

Quickly I decided: I will help and he will know that it wasn’t so. But every step was like I was torturing the old man. I saw his soul leaving the body in fear.

The old man thought I would steal and not help. His affliction it was stronger than my desire to help, so I gave up.

I decided to go back to my script and I got back to my work, I focused on my duties. It did not take and the day had evaporated.

But ever since, I could not get it out of my head. If I didn’t do anything, how can I still blame myself?

My conscience punished me, so from now on, I’ll do well and release me from the bondage of fear and prejudice. I will never return to give up doing good.

I hope this story be a lesson. The Saying advises: “It’s cheaper learn with the other people’s mistakes”. Living and learning.

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Álvaro C. Adriano

Thank you!