A Half-a-Loaf is Better Than None
“Please Sir” … Can you give me 5 cents?”? … “Please Sir … “
This is one of my “Me and …” stories … true stories from my life. №.9: ‘Me, a Half-Loaf, and an African Boy’
First of all, … the truth: It is me; a much younger me … taken fifty years ago!
In the picture I’m talking to a boy I’d just met on the main street of Maseru, the capital of Lesotho, the small mountain kingdom that’s surrounded by South Africa. I was there in 1971 as the science member of a visiting educationist's team from England.
This is the story: One day, I was walking along the main street in Maseru, a place that I had gotten to know quite well since my first assignment in Lesotho a year earlier. It was a winter morning and though the temperature did rise significantly during the day, mornings were a bit chilly, so I wore a heavy coat.
Strolling down the street, I didn’t realize at first, but two boys were following close on my heals. I kept hearing a quiet voice seemingly asking a question, but never thought that the words were being directed at me:
“Please Sir” followed by a difficult to hear sentence that became a bit clearer each time I heard it … “Please Sir, can …”; “Please Sir, can you give …”; “Please Sir, can you give me …”; and then I heard the complete sentence:
* * * * * * * * “Please Sir, can you give me 5 cents?” * * * * * * * * *
That’s when I turned around to find that there were two boys, and that one of them was directing his plea to me. So, what to do? Do I just give him the five cents? … No, I ask him what he wants it for.
* * * * * * * * * * “I want to buy a half-loaf sir” * * * * * * * * * * * *
Can you believe it? Even in 1971, would 5 cents buy a half-loaf? And why a ‘half-loaf’, what was special about that?
Being a little suspicious, I ask him where he would go to buy a half-loaf, and he said, without hesitation: “from that shop there” (pointing to a small store across the road). So, I said: “OK, come, let's go there”, and we crossed the road.
Entering the shop, I looked towards the shopkeeper and said: “Give this boy what he wants”. You can imagine my reaction when the boy actually said: “A half-loaf please”
To my absolute amazement the shopkeeper reached down below his counter and came up with a half-loaf wrapped in paper! He gave it to the boy, and I said: “How much is it?” “How much do I owe you?”
“Five cents” said the shopkeeper!
Now, embedded in my memory, two words: “Five cents”, live in my heart.
But the story doesn’t end there. I was carrying my camera with me and asked the boys to come outside for a photo. It’s the one at the top of my story today. (I’ve ‘cropped’ it below so that it shows just the two boys and the half-loaf):
After I’d taken the photo, I left the boys and continued on my way.
But they followed me from a distance, until the half-loaf-eater plucked up enough confidence to come running up to me, and said:
“Sir, my friend would like you to meet his sister”
I never did, but that too was an unsuspected statement. I now have two memorable phrases:
“Can you give me five cents?”, and “Would you like to meet my friend’s sister”
Such is life!
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“Me” Story №9: “Me, a Half-Loaf, and an African Boy” written by Fred: writer on Medium * * * * * © Fred Ogden 2021 * * * * *
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