09/10/2026
Sometimes, the people we think we are helping end up teaching us the lesson.
There’s a man who stands at the robot before Moses Mabhida Stadium. He begs, but he also sells packets of chips to make a little money.
I’ve gotten to know him over time. On most days, I’ll open my window, greet him, ask how he’s doing, and we’ll exchange a little conversation. Nothing extraordinary. Just two people asking each other how their day is going.
Earlier this week, I was rushing somewhere. My mind was occupied, I had a hundred things to do, and I hadn’t even eaten. When he knocked on my window, I signalled that I had no money.
But he kept knocking.
When I finally opened the window a little, he looked at me and asked, “Why are you so angry today?”
I laughed and told him I wasn’t angry. I was just hungry, and I still had so much to do.
He reached for a packet of popcorn chips and held it out to me.
I refused. “No, I can’t take your chips. You’re selling those.”
He insisted.
“I’m going home. I’ll eat something,” I told him.
But he wouldn’t have it.
“No, you’re hungry. I understand hunger. I’m not going to let you go hungry, and I don’t want you to be angry.”
And just like that, he pushed a packet of chips through my window.
I drove off with that packet of chips and a lesson I wasn’t expecting.
Here was a man I had so often given money to, someone I assumed I was helping, insisting on giving me something of his own because he thought I needed it more than he did at that moment.
He could have kept those chips. He could have sold them. Nobody would have questioned him for doing so.
But he saw someone who was hungry, and he responded with what he had.
And I thought about how easily we measure people by what they own, what they earn, the work they do, or the circumstances they find themselves in.
Yet sometimes, the very people we assume have the least remind us of what it means to have a generous heart.
Humility is remembering that no person is beneath us, and no act of kindness makes us greater than the person receiving it.
We can give someone money and still have so much to learn from them.
We can have a full fridge, a comfortable home and enough money to meet our needs, yet forget to notice when another human being is struggling.
And someone with very little can still look at us and say, “I understand. Let me help you.”
That packet of chips wasn’t just a packet of chips to me. It was a reminder that kindness doesn’t belong to a particular class of people, generosity isn’t determined by the size of your bank account, and dignity should never depend on someone’s circumstances.
So, this Jumu’ah, perhaps the reminder is a simple one:
Greet the person others walk past. Acknowledge the street sweeper. Look the security guard in the eye. Thank the person who serves you. Don’t let someone’s circumstances determine the respect you show them.
And when someone offers you kindness, don’t be so quick to assume that you’re the only one in a position to give.
Sometimes Allah sends us a reminder in the most unexpected ways. Mine came through a man at a traffic light, a packet of popcorn chips, and a few words I won’t soon forget.
May Allah keep our hearts humble enough to recognise the worth of every person, generous enough to give what we can, and soft enough to receive a lesson when we least expect it. Ameen.
Jumu’ah Mubarak. 🤍
