In December, on some cold and rainy days. I was sitting on dusty shelves at a kind of old store. I see people enter and leave the store every day. Until she came with her mother. She was consulting me. she said, mum! I want this one. And here is my story begins. Hey!! I am Eddie. I am just a teddy bear in the human world. I will not forget that day when I arrived at Charlie's home. It was a home of lovely family. It was a family of four members. Charlie, Rachel, jake and Lydia. I was sitting at Lydia's room. She was taking me whenever she is going. Her room was utterly cozy especially her soft blanket. One day, I was with Lydia in the garden. There was a snow crystal that was falling down on her slowly. Until I heard a voice that saying out loud, Lydia!! Come here the dinner is ready! I observed something when we got into home. There was a beautiful smell of fresh bread coming from the kitchen. I was sitting with Lydia and her family. They were eating and having fun. The vibrations emanating from their chests were unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. Their eyes seemed to sparkle with a joyful energy I couldn't quite comprehend. After dinner, everyone went to bed because Lydia and jake have to go to school tomorrow. In Lydia's room there were posters everywhere on walls she was hanging a vision board with her goals and dreams. She wants to be an astronomer. She was spending hours researching astronomy and discussing theories with enthusiasm. She always loved learning things about space and universe. And she always wondered if there is another earth in other galaxies that humans live in or not. In the next day I was sitting on the sofa, and I suddenly I saw a dog running towards me, but he was cute. Charlies' family was having a pet which is a lovely dog. Rachel always loved her dog. She was very kind to him and played with him. After Lydia and jake came from school they ate lunch with the family and after that they headed in their rooms. Lydia had a great skills and hobbies. Lydia's fingers danced across the canvas; her eyes focused intently on the masterpiece taking shape. I love the way she can draw and the way she holds her pencil, her vibrant colors of her drawings and being creative at her drawings. At once she decided to draw me and it was absolutely beautiful! At night the family decided to go out to smell some fresh air and engaging in joyful revelry. And of course, Lydia took me with her. I was surprised when I saw the streets and people. I saw other families, couples, friends and diversity in relationships and all of them were Facinating. They went to a place to drink something hot to keep them warm. Lydia took hot chocolate. I loved the smell of hot coco and how Lydia was holding the cup with her hands to keep herself warmer. On our way back home. It was raining. Everyone was running and holds an umbrella. But I was enjoying the smell of rain when it hits the dusty roads. After years everything changed. I observed Lydia and jake growing. It was magical thing for me to see someone I live with grows in front of my eyes. It was Lydia's the seventeen birthdays. Her family was organizing everything to surprise her, and they invited her friends. Lydia was out and when she came, they surprised her saying. Happy birthday!! She was very happy with the gifts, but I felt that there something wrong with her and I was right. When the birthday ends, and everyone left. She was sitting in her room, and she was sad because her best friend didn't come. It was my first time to see Lydia sad like this way. I figured that the absence of a loved one, even for a seemingly trivial reason, can cause significant emotional distress. But after this sadness her best friend call her, and she explained why she didn't come. And after this call her spirit had raised honestly. And she suddenly hugged me. There was a warmth of this hug. Jake always loved playing guitar. He was playing it since he was 11 years, jake was having a competition of playing guitar. He was very nervous because he trained for this competition very hard, and it meant a lot to him. His family went to the competition with jake to encourage him. When we arrived, he was nervous because he was fearing from failure. But Charlie tried to calm him down saying, “there is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure! After these words jake has encouraged and he played confidently. He was amazing playing this guitar. And he won the first place! He deserved it. From the dusty shelves to the heart of a home. I've witnessed life unfold in its myriad hues. Joy, sorrow, hope, and fear - a tapestry woven with every human thread. In Lydia's laughter and tears, in Jake's triumphs and anxieties, I've glimpsed the depth and complexity of the human soul. Though I am but an inanimate object, I carry within me the echoes of their lives, a testament to the extraordinary nature of being human.

It was sunny and hot. Not just hot, it was extremely hot. Sun was literally roasting me and everything and everyone around me. Well, what else could I expect from Africa? My team and I drove by car, taking our time. We were driving through a local village. Everyone stared at us as if we were aliens. Especially children. I took a pictures of old cracked houses, half-naked toddlers and older kids, which smiled and played despite their suffering. It was so hurting and at the same time fabulous… After a few shots, we stopped. I got the things we brought to the citizens of here out of the trunk. The children started sprinting towards us. I laughed, and gave them toys and candies. Not much later their parents came, and we provided them with fresh water, flour, sugar, milk, first aid-kits and other necessary things. They thanked us, they were delighted, and I took pictures again. Someone even began crying. We were sobbing too. Afterwards, the guys from my team played football with the children. I preferred to take a walk and make some shots. I wandered and wandered until I met a boy, sitting lonely and somehow sad, like the only flower on the field. He was about 5 years old. «Hey, little kid» I said. Fortunately, I was one of those in my team who knew their language. He did not answer. Instead, he looked at me with his big intense eyes, full of pain and simultaneously love. «Do you… do you understand me?» I asked. He nodded. «Why are you not playing with other kids? And… Where are your toys or… candies?.. Wait, did you even get some?». «No» he said quietly. His voice was gentle as little cockle bells. «Where can I get them here?». «Me and my friends made a gift for your people. You didn't know? I thought all people who knew said to entire village». «No. I was here. But I saw that auntie Uzuri, our neighbor, ran in that way. Is it why she ran away?». «I guess». «I see» he said, then he looked far away. «Aren't you sad?». «Should I be sad?» he smiled weakly. «If I were you, I would be». «I am not». «That's good» I was glad. «Weren't you curious why that aunt ran? You did not ask?». «No» he answered sadly. He was silent for a while, then whispered: «My sister is very sick. Now she is sleeping, that is why I decided to go outside and breathe some air». «Pity…». How terrible it was! What was worse, we had nothing to gift them with. I should ask some stuff from my team. Later. Then I recalled something. I had lollipops in my pocket! My little niece gave me them before our fly. Thank you, niece. «Here, take it. It is not much but…» I got out two candies. At that moment, his smile was almost ear-to-ear. He took them with his thin little hands, and said «Thank you!..» He took both candies, and opened them. Then he offered me one. «Take it» he said. «What is it for?» I giggled. «For your kindness». These words melted my heart. He continued holding candy, and I took the picture of this ineffable moment. «Keep it» I said then. «Give it to your sister». I cuddled the most softhearted person I ever met and left him with words «I'll be back soon!» Tomorrow other volunteers came. We… well, I called them because of that one boy. I ran up to his house and said to him «Come on, there are medicines for your sis, water and food». He was over the moon and was jumping for joy. After few days, we travelled to another village and continued volunteering. I still ponder about that boy and his action a lot. As a photographer, I saw a million of things which wondered me, however this time it was something more than just «amazing». Indescribable. He lives in situation not suitable for humans, but did not lost his humanity.

“Thanks. I'll definitely include a tip,” the passenger promised as he stepped out of the car and set off for the shopping mall. Khalid merely smiled, knowing that more than half of his clients usually forgot to keep their promise as soon as they had stepped out of his hired car. He didn't hold it against any of them; he knew what a fast-paced world we lived in. His phone pinged. It was another Uber passenger, this one a mere three minutes away from his current location. He quickly accepted the booking; at this time of the year, competition was brutal. Fortunately, he hadn't been doing too badly this month, but he was still behind with his rent. “Listen, raghead,” his landlord had told him that morning, using the derogatory label he often flung at Khalid, a refugee from Sudan. “If tonight you don't pay the full rent you owe me, expect to find your crap on the street tomorrow morning. I give you till ten tonight, you hear?” Khalid had remained silent, knowing that it would be useless to appeal to the man's sympathy, as he had none for “filthy job-stealing foreigners”. Khalid had resolved to get as many fares as he could today to make the payment. The client was a waif-like lady waiting outside Woolworths; she had a number of shopping bags surrounding her. Khalid hurriedly exited the car to load the bags into the back. “Thank you,” the woman beamed, clearly relieved for the help. “Every year I tell myself I won't leave things to the last minute,” she continued as she got into the passenger seat, “but inevitably, I end up doing exactly that.” “It's normal, isn't it?” Khalid said, instantly liking the woman's friendly nature. Laughing merrily, the woman said, “I doubt it's normal, but I suppose it's usual at this time of the year.” “True,” Khalid agreed. “It never ceases to surprise me how frantic people become at a time when they should have peace in their hearts.” “Absolutely true! We are so caught up in consumerism that we lose total sight of the real significance of this season. You don't celebrate this event, do you?” “No, I'm a Muslim, but we love and respect Jesus. He's a prophet in my religion, too.” “That's wonderful to know that you also love Him.” The woman kept up a light conversation with Khalid until they reached her destination. Before leaving, she added a tip on the phone app. “Thank you very much, ma'am,” Khalid said in genuine gratitude. The woman waved away his thanks. Khalid helped carry her bags to the front door, bid her a good night and got back into his car. He had hardly gone a few meters from her home when he noticed the small brown envelope on the passenger seat. “Oh, no. She's dropped something,” Khalid said before turning his car around to go back to the woman's house. She opened the door after his first knock, as if she had been expecting somebody. When she saw Khalid, she exclaimed, “You've found it then?” Khalid extended the envelope to her. “Yes, I knew it must be yours. I didn't open it,” he hastened to add. “But it's not mine,” the woman said, confusing Khalid. “It's yours.” “No, ma'am. It's definitely not mine,” Khalid stammered. “It is, young man. It's an annual tradition of mine, to gift somebody worthy on this holy night with such a gift. And I have a feeling there's none worthier right now than you. Please, keep it.” Khalid was flummoxed. “But why me? I'm nobody special.” “Oh, but you are. We are all special in our own way, and tonight I'm blessing you with this gift. I'm not taking it back; if you don't want to accept it, pass it on to somebody else.” “But I'm not a Christian, ma'am.” “So what? What kind of Christian would I be if I extended charity only to those of my own faith?” “God bless you,” Khalid managed to say over the lump in his throat. “God has blessed me, and that's exactly why I share this blessing each year at this time with some deserving stranger. Good night,” she said and closed the door of her brightly lit home from which peaceful sounds of a hymn flowed. Khalid walked back to the car like one dazed, expecting the other shoe to drop at any moment. He couldn't fathom why he had been chosen for such an unexpected gift, but then he said, “Dear God, thank You for Your favors.” He still had no sure idea what the envelope contained, but he could feel it might be money. Khalid arrived at his flat at nine thirty. He nearly returned to the woman's house once he finally opened the envelope and saw how much cash it contained. It was enough to cover two months' rent. With tear-filled eyes, Khalid looked at the star-studded night sky, wonder bubbling up in his chest like the sweetest spring from which he had ever drunk. “You are a miracle in and of Yourself, and only You can orchestrate the best, most miraculous plans for Your worshippers.” With a far less burdened heart and soul, he went to see the landlord. Bliss spread across his joyous heart in continuous waves of wondrous rapture.

I'm overstimulated, which is a writer's worst nightmare. My thoughts have the zoomies, making them hard to catch or pinpoint. I feel overwhelmed by the vastness of human life. I've met so many new people this week at my new job. And I've seen even more people there that I haven't met. I keep thinking of how my grandma is driving across the country with my aunt and uncle. How people who don't know her will see her and only see an old woman, see her frailty. But that is just her body, that is not who she is. She may be an old woman now, but she was also once a little girl exploring the beaches of Lake Michigan with her best friends and neighbors Rae and Johnny. She was once a girl sitting on her older sister's stack of records in the basement while listening to the record player. She was once my grandpa's high school sweetheart. She was once a girlfriend left behind as my grandpa went to war in Korea. She once, newly married, and never having traveled out of her small town, moved with my grandpa to an Air Force Base in South Dakota where she gave birth to my mother far away from her family and friends. She was once the mother of five young children, raising them mostly on her own. She is a woman who lived through the death of her teenage son. She is a strong woman who lived with and loved an alcoholic man. She was a woman known to be vivacious and full of life, which if you look close enough, you'll see she still is. She is a woman who once filled the halls of her church with art and posters she created and hand-drew on her own. She is a woman who raised strong and fierce children into even stronger and fiercer adults. She is a woman who helped raise her grandchildren, telling them stories, singing them songs, teaching them art, and capturing their imaginations. She may be an old woman now, but she is still all these things. As I've met and seen so many new people at my new job this week, I've been struck again by how each of us has a story, each of us is more than what we seem on the surface. If we urge one another not to judge books by their covers, how much more should we not judge people by theirs? We all love and are loved; we all have people who see us for who we are. We all are more than the sum of our parts. It's shockingly easy to forget this, to merely see people as annoyances, or in our way. We can become so engrossed in our own lives, we forget everyone else is also experiencing life in different, yet very similar, ways. I, for one, am working on remembering.

The Coronavirus outbreak that swept the planet showed me humanity's true colors. I saw the news stories of doctors and nurses living in their garages to protect their families. I watched interviews and live feeds across social media praising teachers for finding ways to continue teaching. I watched communities come together to take care of each other with free mini libraries and food pantries. I saw neighbors put up signs thanking frontline workers, while others put out drinks and snacks for their delivery drivers. And yet, despite all that bravery and love, I became bombarded with what can only be described as my breaking point. Videos of frontline workers being assaulted filled social media feeds. Heartbreaking stories emerged of people attacking hospital staff in parking lots. Customers fighting in shops for “necessities”. Infamous Karen videos became the norm. The world had become a violent terrifying place. Not only were we fighting an invisible virus; we were trying to survive against the losing battle of self-importance and entitlement. My parents instilled in me the belief that every single life matters and thus deserves nothing less than the utmost respect. The janitor mopping the floors deserves to be treated the same as the CEO, as one without the other could not succeed. I always held this belief in my heart, and it crushed me to see that this was not a universal belief. Being a retail worker myself at the time, I was afraid. Every time I left my house my body was preparing for fight or flight. In my head I would come up with ways I could defend myself physically if someone came at me; my go to was a pen in my hand at all times. I had only a mask at the time to keep me safe from a virus coming for me… It would do little against a fist. Taking the TTC; the Toronto public transit system, I had to keep a close eye on those around me. Backing away from those who refused to social distance, and biting my tongue until it bled under my mask when people would take theirs off. Sometimes I would speak up, but I always knew the risk I took doing so. Someday someone would come at me, and I wouldn't be able to physically defend myself. I reached a point where I no longer cared. I was tired of fighting an uphill battle. All I could think of was my family and of families like mine; who were doing everything in their power to make things safe; taking care of each other in such trying times. I would stare at the mask less, proudly smirking because no one could tell them what to do, as they would yell out in victory, “We won't be controlled.” and “I'm not wearing a muzzle!” My hatred for them grew every day; the more bare faces I saw the more frustration built. Why were they more important than my mother? My father? My sister? Why couldn't they get that this wasn't a political issue? No one was trying to silence them. They were free to believe whatever they wanted. Policies were made to prevent the spread. You don't want to wear a mask? Then don't. But then you can't complain online, or scream at employees when you're denied entry. You can't scream that your freedoms and rights are being violated when stores have the right to refuse service, while police remove you from private property. They wanted others to follow the rules so that they could be safe, but then turned around and refused to do the same for others. Time and time again I was baffled by their selfishness. Why is your comfort more important than someone's life? How can anyone be so cruel? Did they have hearts of stone? How could you see the footage of bodies being pulled out of long term care homes and pretend it's normal? How could you watch videos of exhausted nurses barely able to take off their PPE gear while tears rolled down their cheeks, from hours of calling codes? How could it not crush your soul to hear the cries of families mourning their children. We were losing mothers, fathers, sisters, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, best friends, and yet they still didn't care, because it wasn't them. My family should have been safe, protected by you and yours, just as we did for you. But in your eyes, we weren't worth the inconvenience. Our lives didn't matter. The pandemic not only taught me I can't trust others to do the right thing, but it stole a future from me. I lost my faith in humanity, and with it, my dreams of ever becoming a mother. There is no sense to bring another life into this world just to witness this exact scenario in the next pandemic. For them to feel the fear, disgust, hopelessness and rage I felt. That so many of us felt. This isn't a world I want to make another suffer through.. So in a weird way, I have a pandemic to thank for showing me humanity's true colors. It took so much from us; years, resources, loved ones, but, it confirmed that we will always be creatures of habit. And even in the most dire of circumstances, people won't ever change.

After the first COVID-19 case in Indonesia was confirmed in March 2020, most people were panic. Mask and hand sanitizer became rare. Some people seemed egoistic. They were panic buying; so that left others with nothing. It is so tragic knowing that health facility in my country still needs improvement. So many doctors and nurses were died because of the minimal protection. In contrast, some people were captured of wearing Medical Personal Protective Equipment for shopping. Moreover, there are still Covidiots outside there that snatch the dead bodies of corona suspects from the medical staffs. That is heartbreaking! Due to this pandemic, almost all aspects in our life must change. We all are forced to adapt as soon as possible; so that we can survive. We must massively transform our ways of socialization. It is still weird, until today, whenever I meet other people but I cannot shake their hand or hug them. It is not something new that we can communicate via video call or chatting due to the rise of internet and technology; however, it is still weird for me whenever I should attend online meeting although my colleagues and I are in the same town. Beside some modifications in the way of our communication, this COVID-19 pandemic also wake our awareness of healthy life up. So many people, including me, become more hygienic and healtier than before. I must wear mask and/or face shield whenever I go outside home, wash my hands more than ten times in a day, spray all stuffs I bring, take a shower every time I go home, wash my clothes although I wear it for once, limit the frequency of buying cooked food, and add the frequency of sunbathing and doing exercise. For the first time in the world, we are suggested to learn, work and pray from home, almost all of the tourism destinations in the world are closed, so many international flights are banned, more and more people are jobless, and we face serious issue about tackling hoaxes. I, personally, was stressed due to the great impact of pandemic. As a Muslim, it is heartbreaking for me to cancel iftar together with friends in Ramadhan and celebrate Idul Fitri without the whole member of my big family and friends. We have no choice, but long distance relationship and use the art-of-the-state technology to support our communication. Besides, I also cancel to join two youth competitions that mean so much for me due to this condition. Day by day, I try hard to find my inner peace and to let go of the thing I cannot catch due to the condition I cannot choose. I keep my self busy by joining so many webinars and online courses and reading some books; so that I can control my stress during self quarantine. Although COVID-19 pandemic is not something I ever wish, this brings the most important thing in my life, a will to re-evaluate my life. As no one knows when their lives end, most people are forget to find the most important things in their life. Most people keep busy all day long, but still feel worthless in the end of the day. "Let it flow" is like an unconscious motto for some. Lucky me that finally I can start my freelance work as executor of mayor election; so that I have a reason to go outside. I feel like a caveman after staying at home for more than a full month. Though I must work by using COVID-19 protocol, such as wearing mask and face shield, bringing hand sanitizer everywhere I go, and stay away at least one meter from others; I am happy of having conversations with random people due to my job. I never guess that in this difficult time, most people I meet can still show their kindness to me. For example, when I looked like confused to find out some addresses, some people initiated to ask what I was looking for and accompanied me to meet the people I mentioned. I also meet other actions of kindness that is initiated by some youths in my hometown who collect donation and give it to the needy. This is not only going on around my environment, but also in online platform. So many people raise donation to help medical staff and the one who need help in creative ways, ranging from holding online charity concert to designing for charity. Since I do not want to be left behind in doing something useful for my life and other's, in this difficult time, I start the dream I postponed for long period, starting culinary business. It is more than profit that I want to reach, but happiness for struggling dreams and sharing happiness by serving my cooking. Besides, I also actively sharing the knowledge I got from webinars and online courses freely in my social media and chat group. To sum up, for me, COVID-19 is humanity test for human. I do believe that there are so many things we can learn from this natural selection. I do believe that the population of good people still dominate the world. Just because I cannot touch your hand, does not mean we cannot keep in touch. Just because I cannot touch your hand, does not mean we cannot hand in hand. Solidarity will prevail.

As a young person living in the West African country of Ghana, I felt safe and secure in my nation and could not have predicted how drastically life was about to change. Before everything went awry, COVID-19 was that distant phenomenon that everyone around me talked about but none could truly relate to. We discussed it and felt sympathy for China and the other affected nations but in our world, the virus was as remote as it could be. We knew it existed but it had no bearing on life as we knew it and it only registered itself in our consciousness when we heard about it on the news and the havoc it was wreaking. Sadly, life had other plans for us. Everything changed when the first case was recorded in the capital of Accra and by the next 48 hours, the number of cases had increased to six with the very first measure to curb the spread imposed three days after the first case. I am utterly abashed whenever I remember my initial joy when school was suspended. No one imagined the turn of events that would follow but to my super-stressed final year self, it was the short break I needed. I had a presentation for my Human Rights class that week that I was unprepared for hence I was more than happy to stay away from school for a week or two. I was not alone in my ignorance as others celebrated as well, completely forgetting that this was the very deadly virus that we had heard so much about on the news. This was the coronavirus that had killed so many people that bodies were not even given to families for burial anymore. Myths run wild yet nothing prepared us for what lay ahead. A partial lockdown was declared and that was when reality began to sink in. It exposed me to all that we had turned a blind eye to. It changed my life, touched me, inspired me, and revolutionized my thinking. It engraved in my heart the question, why do we wait for tragedy before we embrace humanity? After the lockdown was declared, I decided not to stay in the capital city of Accra where my University is located but went to stay with a cousin in Aburi, located in the mountains at a different region which had recorded no cases at the time. My flight to escape the fear and uncertainties in Accra revealed to me exactly how a shift in our perfect paradigm exposes exactly how human we are, how vulnerable we are yet how vile we can be and in the same vein, how much love we are capable of showing. School moved online and it was bedecked with assignments and equally crazy endeavors by the university to ensure that we do not cheat. The hectic life surrounding it all made it even crazier. As the cases increased, the lockdown was lifted and we all cried in outrage till I realized that, the old ones were right when they said, ‘not all fingers are equal'. Some people eat by what they earn every day thus the lockdown spelled starvation for them. When I moved back to Accra after the lockdown was lifted, I realized exactly how fragile we all are as humans. Two families who lived near me had moved back to the village because they would have starved in the city since the breadwinners were unable to go to work due to the coronavirus. A cousin who works at a real estate company lost a deal because her client whose dad died from Covid-19 suffered from so much stigma that she had to move from her neighborhood. Others also lost their jobs the minute relatives got the virus and soon, what had been the distant tragedy of a distant country had become not just our nightmare but the burden of the entire world. However, every cloud has a silver lining and this moment of fear and uncertainty brought to bear the humaneness in us as well. Where the prices of hand sanitizers shot up unreasonably due to the demand, others manufactured and distributed them for free. For me, Covid-19 brought us closer and strengthened the ties in our communities. We are still battling the virus with our cases increasing every day, but the faith in ourselves and the willingness to offer help however small keeps us all going. These few months of lockdown coupled with quarantine and the new normal of face masks has taught me a lot. Paramount among them is that life is fleeting and we must make every moment count. I would never write an essay like this again, you would never feel the way you are feeling as you read my experiences during this period again. Every moment is precariously precious and should be valued. I am done with my exams and would probably have online graduation. I never imagined that but it has happened. No one knew that Thursday in class before the suspension of schools was going to be our last time together. There was never a chance for that last hug or a proper goodbye. So I say, let's love, let's live, let's value humanity and I hope we all get to smile and laugh louder next year in better circumstances. Till then, let's be our brother's keeper and survive together.

As usual with days preciding the coming of the rain, the weather was cold and for lack of a better word, damp. I've always been a fan of the raining season, but this time, I wasn't. Not only because it seemed to interfere whenever I had something important to do; typical, but because it brought with it symptoms of my mortal enemy - malaria. I consider myself a healthy and strong girl and on a normal day, would be happy to brag to anyone of my prowess and ability to remain so all year round. Except when visited by this dreaded sickness which has proven to be the only one to bring me to my knees and seek my mothers breast at my middle 20's. It starts with an inability to get out of bed and general body weakness but like I said, I'm strong! So I force myself out of bed. Within the day or the next morning, I'm hit with an intense neck pain , sometimes, the painful clogging of my throat which advances to a raging cough and catarrh then finishes off with a loss of appetite. The same way malaria comes knocking at my health, is the same way it leaves. Closing the door with an even more furious cough and catarrh. Usually, everyone is sympathetic during this period and even quicker to offer home remedies but this time was different and I learnt the hard way. You see, during that period, an even more dreaded disease; corona virus was on the rampage and while many Nigerians where adamant it doesn't exist and was a ruse created by the 'powers that be,' many of them where as scared as chicks without their mother hen. I initially was among the former but I wasn't scared, remember, I am strong! And even better, my father who we fondly call baba lawo because of his tinkering with natural herbs was out to the rescue. Right from the moment we got whisp of the pandemic, he made a concoction of ginger, lemon, garlic and honey long before the rumor of its preventive capabilities. We were also armed with our nose guards and the home made hand sanitizer my father was kind to make. I got to the office where I was an intern and while educating different skeptics on the danger and symptoms of the virus, malaria which had just begun closing its door decided to raise it ugly head and I began coughing profusely. Mind you, many had heard coughing was a symptom and forgetting my condition, I had been too eager to share this. My embarrassment knew no bound when some of the ladies subtly moved away from me and the manager asked me in not too many words " to go home as many of them still had kids and weren't ready to die yet." My mouth dropped, I was offended. I couldn't believe these people thought the virus capable of imprisoning a gallant lass like me, how naive I was. I stood my ground and refused to return home. Not only because I was embarrassed and everyone was waiting for my response but also because I knew I was just recovering from malaria and wasn't a danger. If you know anything about cough, you'd know it could be quite vindictive and annoying. Many days later, when I thought to be done with anything related to those symptoms, I attended a church program. A few days shy to the lockdown in Abuja, Nigeria and sat beside a handsome young man. Eager to learn, the hall quieted down and everyone was paying rapt attention. Then started this low, persistent tingle in my throat. I tried to push it down, I really did. Clenching my teeth and even holding my breathe but nothing helped and before I realized, I was coughing up a storm. My throat aching and chest heaving. I felt like transforming into an ant and crawling away. I coughed through out the meeting and though I wanted to step out, I sat in the middle of my row and was too embarrassed to stand, settling for melting into my seat. Not only because I was obviously disturbing the meeting, but because the young handsome man was so scared, he might have soiled his pants. He couldn't inch way from me faster and if he had the ability, would have disappeared. Not that I blame him, life is precious. We silently had to deal with seating awkwardly beside each other till the meeting ended and he jumped up faster than a kangaroo without so much as a "bless you." That day, I learnt a big lesson. Something that we've all heard but never paid attention to. Discrimination kills faster than any disease. I knew I wasn't hosting the virus but I never felt so uncomfortable and unclean like that evening in the church. Of course, there is an inherent need to protect ourselves and our families from this pandemic but we need to also remember to be kind even to those who may have lost the battle. Love and kindness are truly the greatest cure to everything on earth.

I was horrified by this incident. “No one cares for me,” shouted a 59-year-old woman in front of the Finance Ministry on April 27. In protest, she swallowed a handful of pink pellets from a rodenticide bait pack, collapsed before rushed to a hospital. She was clearly distressed after failing to get a monthly stipend of 5,000 baht or around US$ 161, the Thai government's cash aid given for three months to informal workers hardest hit by the COVID-19 outbreak. To curb the pandemic, the government locked down cities, shut down businesses, and imposed curfew and travel restrictions. Consequently, many, left unemployed, are struggling to put food on the table, with the poor and needy feeling frustration, despair and anger. Then people's little hope was reignited by the “Pantry of Sharing,” installed by “Little Brick,” a group of volunteers. The group first posted a video clip, asking what Thai people thought if the country could have pantries stocked with food for anyone. Many expressed their opinions. “Everything would be gone, the cupboard included.” “All food items would be taken home in a sack!” “The cupboard would be left empty.” “The answer is ‘impossible.' People are selfish with no conscience.” “Try the idea to find out.” “I wish we could have the pantry. I'm a rural man. We share what we have.” “Don't despair if you have no food. Every time you come across this pantry; you know you can take something home for your children. That'll bring happiness.” “We could help our fellow beings. Sharing with others brings you peace of mind.” “Donors are willing to give and recipients can fill their stomach with something from the pantry. So, both will be happy.” The first five Pantries of Sharing were set up by the group to alleviate the plight of those suffering hardship caused by government measures. This humanitarian act was inspired by the Little Free Pantry, started in the United States. The Pantry of Sharing is a beautiful initiative. Those who can afford to give, fill the pantry with nonperishable foods while people facing penury can come by and take everything they need to get through each day of poverty. Some even include notepads for people to write words of appreciation and encouragement to each other. Anyone can set up the Pantry of Sharing in their community. The idea has caught on rapidly. For Thais, sharing with those suffering is a way of making merit. Now there are community pantries in all 77 provinces. Local newspapers reported several stories of less fortunate people benefiting from these community pantries. A middle-aged mother and her 11-year-old son with special needs went several times a day to the Pantry of Sharing in the northern province of Phayao to find food. The mother could not work well because she was beset with diseases. They hardly had enough money to get by and sometimes had to go without food. These pantries are great. Old people, scavengers and the poor can come and get things here without queuing up in long lines to get free food offered by charitable organizations and individuals. One old uncle was widely admired by many social media users. He came to open the cupboard in front of Thonburi-Uthong Hospital and picked up only one carton of milk. He said only one carton of milk made him full and took nothing else to leave and share the rest for others to partake of. He was praised for being considerate and not opportunistic. Poor as he was, he was generous. Uncle Oud was from Ayutthaya Province. Homeless and without relatives, he wandered around in U Thong district, Suphan Buri province, to scavenge discarded materials for a living. Sadly, on May 18, Uncle Oud died peacefully from tuberculosis. In these challenging times, it is necessary for people to show their kindness and sympathy. That is why the pantries, known in Thai as “the cupboard that shares happiness,” are always replenished. However, this unattended food sharing scheme is still very new here. In reality, some selfish people abused the public's goodwill, raided pantries, took away all the items, hoarded the food, and worst, resold the stolen donations. Although people emptying a cupboard should be disapproved of, we may not really know what these people have gone through during lockdown. The motives of many cases are linked to rising poverty and food shortages. The reckless and selfish behavior may show just how the coronavirus pandemic and poor state support have made some people so desperate and insecure. In spite of the abuses being committed by some people, we should not lose hope in this food bank idea. A sense of giving should not be diminished just because our world also has inconsiderate people. Let us overlook those who are greedy. Our noble goal is to prevent destitute people from going hungry! During times of sickness and anxiety like these, it touches my heart and lifts my spirits when people help each other out. COVID-19: We will get through this TOGETHER.

Jump, Now!!! Those words rang in my head, as I took a drastic decision that changed my life for the better. 28th February, 2014, remains imprinted on my mind to this very day. I was a grade ten student of Bright Stars Model Secondary School. I had a couple of good friends, read my books, and made sure to be the perfect kind of son my parents wanted, I wanted. It was about 4pm on the said date, we had just finished our last class for the day, as the exhausted students scurried out of the school premises—the euphoria evident in them as they longed for home. I packed up my bags, said goodbye to my friends and boarded a tricycle home. I sat in-between a plump woman and a mid-sized dude. We had just passed a green traffic light, when an SUV in front of us collided with a minibus, as the bus tumbled to the side, crashing down on the pavement. Our driver tried to manoeuvre his way, in an attempt to avoid bashing the SUV. Just as he narrowly missed the SUV and drove onto the sidewalk, I saw this big tree, looming in front of us. Surrounded by a carpet of merciless granite stones, the thick, dense tree, situated itself a few inches from our tricycle. My thought at that fleeting moment in time, was that our vehicle was going to impinge on the tree and we would all be dead. The dude beside me jumped out, and without thinking, I followed suit, jumping out of a moving vehicle. That was a life-threatening decision I made in seconds. I closed my eyes and leapt out, face first onto the granite ground. Miraculously, I landed on my knapsack, as it scraped through the granite with fierce force. I was left with only a shallow wound but nothing serious. The event of that day marked a turnaround in my life. Two weeks after the accident—on my way back from school—I decided to head down to the University of Uyo Teaching Hospital, Uyo, Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria. I went to the Accident/Emergency unit, my heart sank. I saw a whole lot of helpless, hopeless people, most of them lacking limbs. The looks on their weary faces sent chills running down my spine. I had always considered myself a staunch believer in how blessed I was, but that day showed me I had a whole lot more to be grateful to God for. I met this particular girl named Grace. She has lovely brown eyes and a cute smile, about 5'2 in height. She recently turned nine. When I got to know her well, I discovered that she suffered from a fatal car accident, one which wiped out her immediate nuclear family, leaving her as the only survivor. Her kneecap got smashed in, rendering her unable to walk. Her maternal aunt takes care of her at the hospital. I made it a point of duty since then, to always visit the hospital twice a month and make anonymous donations from my little savings, mostly to Grace's aunt for her welfare. A friend once said to me, “you start living—not just being alive—when you impact positively, on the lives of others.” It's starting to make a whole lot more sense to me now. I feel in a way, the accident made me a better version of myself, one that now views the privilege of life, as an avenue to help those on the verge of losing theirs. Surviving a ghastly car accident has taught me a few things in life, one being that life is fleeting, and can be cruelly snatched away at any instant of time. I believe in helping the needy. Each time I walk past a ward and see a kid I anonymously donated funds to, playing and jumping around happily, it gives me some sense of self-accomplishment (knowing I've been able to impact one more life). In my subconscious, the sayings of John Bunyan come alive, “you have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”

'To be or not to be'. One of Shakespeare's most famous quotes said by the character Hamlet. Although interpreted in many different ways, Hamlet said this at the start of his speech in which he contemplates life or death. Hamlet says that death would be much like sleeping. The only fear is that we might have bad dreams when we're dead however we would escape petty things like emotion. Regardless of Hamlet's reasoning, much like with most things, here are two sides of the coin. Some might say that emotion is a hindrance to our humanity but others might say that emotions are what ties us to it. Humanity is one of the most complex, ever-changing creatures to reside on this Earth so far and because of our forever changing nature we can be happy but also horribly sad, we can be positively kind but also unquestionably volatile. To be human is like a pendulum swinging from left to right. Our weight or fixed point is that we all collectively share the attribute of actually being a human. When we swing left, we're less kind, harsher and more unhappy. When we swing right, we're conscious of ourselves and others, we hold more joy or gratitude and even satisfaction. Without a doubt, emotions can prove our humanity. Some people show their emotions upfront and to the world, however, others can struggle with emotions whether they are their own or if they belong to someone else. This means that emotion isn't something that can define humanity completely. Charles Darwin was an expert in natural history also known as a naturalist and he believed humans were more alike to animals however we are just higher in intelligence. TO BE CONTINUED

The most beautiful moments of my life are the ones nobody sees. God has called me to see the sacred in the ordinary. From ripe, round, unbearably red strawberries in a simple pottery bowl to spindly curvy palm trees arching into a perfect Hawaiian sky or speckled-belly puppies lying on their backs under a hot Georgia sun, if I choose (and I do choose) to see with my heart as well as my eyes, I get to watch the common transform into the holy. I am one girl, one woman, one daughter, one mother. I have lived this incredible lifetime of memories, choices, gains and losses. Sometimes I wish I'd accomplished more: written my bestselling book, won the Pulitzer, made more money, acquired more possessions. I wish I'd become famous for something meaningful, helped to eradicate a disease, saved a life, or invented something really, really cool. In those times, when I'm thinking that way, I feel a little foolish. What is my life about? Why was I here? And, in some cases, what was I thinking? But, God reminds me. He made me with one purpose: I am here to bear witness. And I take that charge seriously, with great reverence and gratitude for that which I am privileged to see. Like the connection between my daughter, a homeless man and me in front of a Costa Mesa diner. A disheveled man with bright blue eyes in a sun-beaten face, whose name is Kevin. Who connected with my brand newly 26 year old daughter Zoe and me. The one who said, "I was just wondering what to do about dinner" when we offered him a burrito, uneaten, with a clean fork, knife, napkin, and a gorgeous fruit juice. I looked at him and took him straight into my heart. We will never see each other again but Kevin is a part of me now and I am a part of him and that is because God showed him to me, and me to him. Our hearts met because we could see. Like the nights - so many of them - when I leaned, exhausted after a long shift at the hospital, and stared down at my three daughters, sleeping in their little beds. I drank in the sight of them, lying there with their tousled hair and the innocence of sleep dusting their beautiful small faces. It was hard, lonely and scary being a single mom but every time I looked at my girls, my heart cracked wide open and new strength flowed through my tired veins, giving me life to keep going one more day - for them. Like when my parents' house was leveled by a tornado and I watched my 82 year old father searching through rubble for pieces of the 70-year-old train set he's had since his father gave it to him when Papa was 12. That strong man, that beautiful heart, that frail body, bent and weak after twin heart attacks, a stroke, and heart surgery less than a year ago...his will, his courage, his beauty shone like a bright light over all the broken bricks, splintered wood, uprooted tree trunks. Like the way God made me a Pied Piper of animals, mine and other people's and strays. I love them all the same. Ruffy, the tiny toy poodle who became my love, the son I never had, the husband I should have had! Ruffy, who became my dearest companion for the next eleven years til he died at 18. I think Ruffy is still with me. How could he be gone? I feel his presence. I loved him then and I will love him always. Thank you, Dillie, for being his first mom and for allowing me to be his last. And Molly, Beau, Dearie, Goldie, Sadie, Peter Criss, Lily, Sophie, Nahla, Ollie. To every animal I have ever seen wandering the streets, I pray each time that you will be safe, fed, protected. I give you food if I can. I love you. I see you. I see squirrels darting, raccoons scooting, deer leaping across roads and I pray to God for you to make it, and for you to live long lives, free from hunters and fast cars. You matter because I see you. We are all living souls. Like the one who gave life to me, my strong honest God-fearing mother. I watch her raising her grandchildren. She is 74 years old. Every morning she gets up and takes three kids to school. Every night she stays up late, getting clothes washed and lunches ready. I see you, Mama. I see your tiredness, your fear, your weariness and I also see your surviving spirit, your strong beating heart, your wisdom that goes on forever. Like the beauty of humanity: people making human chains to save one dog, a woman giving her life to save her child's, people of faith sacrificing for their beliefs, one homeless man giving his coat to a homeless child. This life is a gift to us from God. That's what I believe. You don't have to believe that way. One thing we all need to do, though, is find a way to bear witness. If we don't, it will go away. And we, as a people, will have lost out on an entire universe of honest, simple, ordinary, common moments that are actually magical, beautiful, wondrous, glorious, sacred, and holy.

What happened to the love What happened to the peace The gratitude from one another The love that should have been shared Upon those who've tried to care But those who've tried Surely their happiness seems to die Amongst the tears that I've cried Because I was one of those nice people who've tried Tried to be the warrior amongst them all To try to help and stand so tall But, I got taken advantage of and has taken the fall Now there is a war in my mind Not only with the people of this inhumane kind Cause every day I feel like that I was left behind. Where is the humane in these people Where is the humane in these people I fall to my knees and scream Hoping there is a god who can grant my every dream And I don't know where to take this How to feel But, I want to know where the humanity is in these people Don't know if I should tear down the steeple Cause there are no churches around me to help save me From my insanity that has me to be So, where is the humanity in these people So, where is the humanity in these people