I was on my usual round of debit and credit errands today when I realized I had to make it in time to sort out a written assignment I had undertaken. A sparkling new metered taxi was parked near a turning point to a busy highway. Taking a quick peek I saw a young guy sitting straightening up when I asked him if he was ready to take me :) Nodding he obliged and I hopped in to go on a ride on a metered taxi feeling relieved that being on time was after all a possibility.
But… the tale that opened up along the ride made me ponder on a sea of questions such as ‘why poor people often have to take the worst beating in life?’ ‘why social inequality continues to broaden at alarming levels despite the several thousand mushrooming activists and charity songbirds quaking their hearts out?’’ is there a way to address underlying needs and bring in real change?’
The young man started off first by saying “miss I do not know the roads nor areas” Taken aback I asked him in Sinhala “How can you get on with this job if you do not know your alphabet?” Somewhat writhing under the pressure of my blunt landing he replied “I began working for this taxi company only today”. Taking a quick glance at the youngster I asked him if he was originating from outside Colombo. He shook his head and said Mt Lavinia – located about 23 Km away from Central Colombo and renowned for its great beaches and the chain of tourist hotels dotted along the coast line. My curiosity was to figure out how in a busy suburb like Mt. Lavinia could a young man of 22 years, proclaim he didn’t know to get about in Colombo. My mind quickly raced back to when I stood at my 22nd milepost in life. Being a gypsy by nature, I knew my way inside out within Colombo and the suburbs and had the roads, routes safely stored much better than all the mathematical formulas that were force fed in school !!! Obviously something was not quite right in here
Getting more curious and not wanting to probe I casually said “Oh well now knowing the roads is not so much of an issue because there are road signs and gigantic bill boards with pointers towards different locations that help you to find your way” Some silence and I glanced to see why there was no answer to that, what I saw was a dejected look spread across a ebony coloured face. Still puzzled I prodded reiterating my earlier comment and said “Is it not?” Sounding very ashamed he simply said “I don’t know to read and write that much, I studied only up to Grade 6” in a very small voice. An instant cloud of confusion crept over my head not knowing how to continue the conversation. I then assumed the guy obviously has financial issues in his family”. After all I am a Sri Lankan having travelled to all corners of this island, heard many enchanting tales of survival.
Wanting very much to hear the other half of the story from the young man himself I once more casually remarked “ well you know, not knowing the roads or how to get about it’s not the end of the world because being Sri Lankan it is common to ask other locals for directions and how to get about from one place to another. Now I had to come down to the same level as a 6th standard educated human being and then said unlike in some other countries we do not follow maps for directions most times the easiest way is to talk to other locals and figure out how to get to a place”.
I also asked him why he should consider that as, something to be cautious when he could communicate easily with the other locals in Sinhala which is the commonly spoken dialect within Colombo and the surburbs. Not stopping at that I admired the courage of the several young men and women migrating from all corners of the country to the big city in search of big dreams, landing here, some not knowing Sinhala, not knowing how to get around and not fully understanding the canny nature of the city but still making it through after a struggle and a push.
I was curious to know the real underlying reasons of his reply. A smile broke in having heard that comment from me, but was soon halted with tears welling up in the otherwise sparkling eyes. “I feel sad when I think of my older brother, years ago he worked for a company that produced photo albums but an accident made his hand go numb and he cannot work anymore. It was my brother’s pay cheque that took care of my mother and the rest of us”. Tears in full form streaming down his cheeks, this time it was tears of regret “ I feel there is a big rut in my life because I never got to finish formal education and I am not able to do a job that will take care of my family” Between sniffles he continued “After my brother met with an accident all of us went through really tough time trying to survive. I quit going to school at 11 and used to go out looking for work. The one or two hundred Rupee notes that I bought in, kept us going”. I worry about my mother who is ill and lie in bed most times of the day because her feet ache from the sores. Interrupting the rambling I ask him if his mom has diabetes and he nods and how many other siblings he has to which he replies one sister and one brother. “So altogether your mom has four kids?” I ask him and he nods again.
“I got this job from one of the big houses I go to work for the youngster continued. There was a miss who was very kind, went to the extent of buying me clothes, shoes to wear to work, when I told her that I didn’t have any to wear when she offered me this job. I never had long pants nor good looking shirts like this to wear. I never owned a pair of proper shoes after I quit school. I confessed to her that I didn’t know to read and write that well but she simply nodded and took me on, maybe she felt sorry for me?”.
I asked the guy how he managed to get his driving license to which he said he had planned to get a job as a driver thus he had applied for one and got it. “For a short time I drove a three wheeler for a big sir but after that he sold the three wheeler and I didn’t have work. Trying to understand the neighbourhood and the vicinity of where he lived, my next question was, where in Mt. Lavinia he lived and he responded “My house is close to the Mt. Lavinia High Courts”. That gave me a somewhat rough sketch of the area he claimed to live. I faintly recall seeing some urban squatter dwellings in the back alleys of the High Courts.
I was testing him right along to all that he said, just to confirm that the long sob story he landed had no holes. Pointing to a Route No. 154 bus I asked him do you know where that bus is heading? He kept quiet and said no. I asked him if he has ever seen that bus running on Galle Road (the main highway from Colombo to Galle). He shook his head and said “I used to go look for work in big houses that were closer to where I lived. I never go by bus because all the money I earned from working I used to bring it home. Casually I glanced at his callous filled hands that were gripping the steering wheel to spot if the pair of hands resembled the kind of hard work that he spoke about. It did and there was no doubt about that!!! I glanced at the young man to figure out if this character resembles the type who could possibly be doing kuli vada (day’s paid casual labour) and observed that he was the kind of guy
I noticed an entry level Chinese model of a cell phone lying on the dashboard and asked him if the phone was his and he replied that a friend of his gave him the phone when he told him that he got chosen for this job.
Clearly the lack of confidence, fear, caution that sets in the mind of a school leaver, stepping into the world of work was seen in this young man, the only difference being, much of the doubts were his inability to clearly identify numbers, letters and string them to make meaningful sentences. “The many numbers in this meter are confusing” he said, to which I said, what is the confusion – on the top there is the running number of kilometers that you are driving, the right side there is the cost, accounted according to the mileage driven and the left side has the running number if the vehicle has to wait. At the end of each trip the customer pays the cost indicated in the meter.
“He replied by saying you know when I was a kid it took me a long time to remember whatever the teacher taught in class. I remember she would say it so many times and it is only after I remember, but that too for a short time. I know that I am not good at remembering whatever that’s taught”. I gauged this long before he spat out this statement by having to direct him left / right a couple of times and eventually gesture the direction with my hand.
He rattled on expressing more fear and caution “I thought this would be an easy job but now I realize that it isn’t easy as it seems”. The miss who got me this job is very kind and offered me a big pay cheque as much as LK.Rs. 18,000 (approx US$ 160) but the fact is that a lot of things make me lose confidence in continuing this job from not knowing the routes, roads, my inability to read and write properly and most of all I fear that the big important madam’s and sir’s will argue with me for the cost and I wouldn’t be able to explain properly. I am worried that I will be branded as someone who charged extra and got away.
This is one young man who is afraid of the big city and the world I think to myself. So I give the guy a little pep talk and tell him everyone’s first day of work is a nightmare and you are having yours, but every time you decide you cannot do this, think of how your family looks up to you as their savior on earth to care for them. Even if you quit this one you will still have a first day in another place and you will need to learn the work on the job and that is how it works in every place of work regardless of what ever work you do. He listens eagerly and nods. I tell him about the unshakable South African blade runner Oscar Pistorius and how he made it to world standards. (He’d never heard of Oscar and I was upset-I look upto Oscar as ‘the guy’) I also tell him about our very own biscuit king-Hinni Appuhamy, Timber merchant-Nawaloka Mudalali and Ayurvedic Doctor Hettigoda Vedha Mahattaya who are big names in the country today. I tell him the founders were also simple folk like you and me who never had the so called formal education but the only difference is they kept learning and always thought they can.
By this time my trip was over and it was time to settle his dues. The cost came to Rs. 393 (US$ 3.50) and I placed five 100 rupee notes in his palm. I could see that it took him a while to realize there was Rs. 107 (US cents 5 short to make up a Dollar) extra in there and spread the notes to figure it out, but by that time I assured him that it was perfectly OK for him to keep the change and that I wasn’t going to complain to his employer.
Amidst wishes of good luck and thank you’s for a safe ride! Turning back, I saw him carefully separating the cost and the extras in different pages of his log book.
Is it possible for a human being to go back in time
and undo what is not right in his life
without making him regret till he leaves this world?
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