It was 2014, and I was a returning
student from the prestigious United Nations University/Maastricht
Graduate School of Governance in the Netherlands, where I had just
completed a grueling course. The school is located in the serene town
of Maastricht in the Netherlands, which is just about one hour away from
Brussels, the capital of Belgium. So, it made a lot of logistical sense
to arrive through the Brussels International airport; and take a taxi
directly to Maastricht town. Rather than the long train or taxi ride
that going through Amsterdam would have presented.
Having completed my studies, my return
ticket, of course, demanded I departed Europe through the same airport
in Brussels. Before leaving Maastricht a couple of days earlier, I was
faced with two choices: either hitching a taxi ride to Brussels with two
other of my classmates who were also leaving the same day as me, (even
though that would mean a-five hour wait in Brussels airport for my
flight); or leave Maastricht much later in the day and take a train ride
to Brussels by myself. The latter choice posed a greater inconvenience
as I reasoned. So I left with my colleagues that morning.
Since my flight would not begin check-in
procedures for another five hours , I decided to use the luggage
lockers in the basement of the airport, so I could be free to enjoy my
rather long wait. I wheeled my bags, (about three of them) to the
lockers, read the instructions on how they work and promptly loaded my
bags into one I selected. The computerized compartments are designed to
secure your luggage when you put in €1, after which it would generate a
print out with a barcode and some digits. You are expected to punch this
on the keypads by the locker when you return to retrieve your luggage,
and omplete the payment depending on length of use. It is clearly
written that for twenty-four hours usage of the lockers, the charge is
€7.50; it, however, did not state the machine only accepts the exact
sum.
I was happy, my bags were secured. I
could now roam the airport or even take a ride into town if I pleased.
After all, I had five hours to kill before check-in time. Leaving the
basement, I went up to the departure lounge, had breakfast, did some
window shopping, and generally spent time using the internet. When the
moment came for me to retrieve my bags, I took the elevator to the
basement brought out my little pouch where I kept coins and counted €7.
Since I had put in €1 earlier, I am expected to now drop €6.50. Well, I
didn’t have €0.50, so I dropped €7.The machine promptly accepted €6, and
then returned €1 to me stating that I should insert €0.50!
I thought the machine malfunctioned at
the moment, so I pushed the €1 back in expecting it to at least release
my bags; even if it would not dispense any change to me. It promptly
rolled back my €1, blinking €0.50 as the amount left for my payment to
be completed. I knew I was in a situation at this point, as the
departure floor is quite some distance from the basement.
So I thought I might as well ask those
who come to get their luggage if they could exchange €1 for two €0.50 or
if they have €0.50 to spare. I believed that amount was quite
insignificant – even though it was now standing between my bags and I.
Soon, I realized how big a deal that sum became.
I approached the first person who came
by from the car park. He did not even stop to listen to what I had to
say. While I reasoned he was just having a bad day, or running late for
his flight; I spoke to the next fellow who checked the money with him
and said he only had €1 and above. Not the €0.50 I needed. After
approaching about five different people, within a few seconds interval
each without success – with most of them barely listening to me – I
started contemplating going the distance to the departure floor to
increase my chances of obtaining the now elusive €0.50.
Immediately, two young ladies came by to
get their bags and I decided to ask them too. When I noticed how they
eyed me suspiciously, I told them my plight and proceeded to flash the
wad of over €1000 I had on me to show I was not indigent. I would not
know if it was the money they saw that gave them reassurances; but they
asked me to wait for them to get their bags so they would know if the
change I needed would surface. Unfortunately, it didn’t. And my
irritation grew.
At that moment, a couple of things
occurred to me. I remembered I am a young black male and that probably
did not improve my situation (which may explain why some of the people I
approached did not even stop to listen). I realized how friendly we are
as a people in Nigeria. Even when we don’t have the solutions to each
other’s issues, we usually empathize. I also remembered how easily it is
for us to part with money to total strangers in Nigeria. All at once,
it became apparent that, seeking assistance anywhere is not as easy as
it looks.
In fact, it is hard work that requires a
lot of confidence to accomplish. I discovered that aside from those who
are handicapped, people who resort to begging through life could very
well excel in sales and marketing. They have all the characteristics.
They know how to approach others, explain the situation, persevere and
eventually make you part with money. I finally learnt that, some of
those well-dressed, well-spoken people who besiege you with request for
help on the streets of Lagos may have genuine needs.
As I came out of my ‘lessons learnt
moment’, I recalled I had still not resolved my luggage retrieving
situation. In retrospect, I think I was more reluctant to go to the
departure hall to look for the change I needed because it would have
presented the same situation as I was in the basement. I could either
have looked for an item to buy that can give me the €0.50 I sought
(which would have been difficult) or kept asking for who can do an
exchange for me. Having some faith, I decided to also ask an elderly
couple who came by. While her husband handled their luggage from one of
the lockers, the lady listened to me and said ‘don’t mind those
machines, they are silly inventions’. She checked her coins with her,
and found a €0.50 I had been asking for. As she handed it to me, I could
see that she had another €0.50 among the coins she spread out on her
other hand.
Even though she wanted me to have one
€0.50 for free, I politely asked her if I could give her €1 and get the
other half. She agreed. As I went to the fortress of a locker that my
bags were held, she accompanied me; probably to see if things were fine
or if my story was true. I inserted the €0.50 into the machine, and
heard the locks snap out of place from within, even as the door to the
locker flew open! That kind elderly lady who saved the day for me, just
started clapping and cheering as if I just scored the winning goal in a
major league!
I thanked her profusely, lifted my bags
out quickly and put them on a trolley as I headed for the departure
hall. The final lesson I learnt that day was that, solutions to problems
may not be solved by large amounts of cash as I had with me. Sometimes,
they come in form of a caring, listening elderly lady. As for the other
€0.50 that she exchanged for my €1, I still have it with me today as a
reminder of that ordeal.
Photo Credit: Dreamstime
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