During my nineteenth year, my regular journey to work meant taking an express bus. It remained full and would always be completely full by the time I got on.
One particular morning, I was feeling incredibly sick while the vehicle rocked around each corner. I kept telling myself to hold on for a few more stops until the bus reached where I needed to get off, at which point I could make a mad dash to the closest public toilet to throw up.
As we neared the avenue close to my stop and I realised I would not be to hold on. Suddenly, it seemed a veil came over me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; similar to when one muted everything. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.
Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front inside the vehicle, allowing me to take a couple of steps to ask the driver and told the operator to pull over, informing him that I was about to vomit. He opened the entrance and I weakly exited out onto the street.
I was determined not to vomit in front of multiple lanes of cars, so I gathered myself and started trying to stumble across to the park opposite the street, where I believed I could at least secretly conceal myself behind a bush to be sick. But then I likely fainted. I was aware of my body but walking was impossible or see clearly, leading me to start inching my way to the park.
“You right, love?”
At that moment, I was lifted up. I felt someone holding me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this kind passerby that I had to to get to a bathroom. So he virtually supported my weight over to an adjacent building and guided me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired if I wanted him to stay with me but I declined.
A few minutes later, I regained my composure sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor and from the other side of the door I heard him inquire, “Do you need anything, love? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to stand up just then but I was able to express my gratitude and shortly thereafter regained the function of my feet. I made my way home and then spent the next few days healing from what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.
I never saw the stranger’s face – only his legs and the big steelwork tools container he had with him – but he saved me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.
Often this world can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that protective shell. He served as evidence that humanity’s innate tendency is to be kind, a trait I cherish about humanity.
