Over the last several months as our new office has been being built there have been many construction workers around. One of those workers is a middle-aged lady who is very friendly and likes to say hi every time she sees me crossing the compound. For months I didn't even know her name but would greet her and maybe chat for a moment or two when I saw her. In truth I never knew her well and merely lumped her in with all the random people I am acquainted with.
But all that changed this last week. On Sunday afternoon she dropped by my house to say hi. She knows where I live because she walks past my house on her way to work and has seen my car parked in front. I was happy to visit with her and began to chat casually asking her questions about her family. It didn't take long before her story began to impact me. This person who had been only a face to me became a real woman, one with many difficulties in her life and yet who still has hope to keep going.
Her name is Nyamsango and she was widowed many years ago. Although she has given birth to 9 children only 6 of those survived. After her husband died she was forced to look for work to support her family. With little education she ended up hiring on as a construction worker getting paid around $2 per day. But now after years of working in construction she makes over $3 a day and was excited to tell me how much better it is now because she makes more money. She can still barely pay for food and clothes for her family much less a good education for her children. She is saving for a phone but hasn't been able to afford it yet. Three of her children are grown and married but three still live with her at home.
When she was ready to leave that afternoon I offered to drive her home. She showed me around her house which consists of three tiny rooms in a building made of mud brick. Her mother and sister along with others also live that building. She didn't even have a chair to offer me because the tiny rooms were filled with beds and a few other pieces of furniture. All three rooms could probably fit in my whole living room (which I consider small). When I returned home I felt like my small cement house had suddenly transformed into this huge mansion. I have so much space to myself while she can barely walk into those tiny rooms crammed full of their few possessions.
However despite everything she is very cheerful and friendly. All her hardships in life haven't brought her down or stopped her. She keeps going and keeps hoping for things to improve. One of her daughters is sponsored by Compassion to attend school and she proudly showed me pictures and letters from the teenage Australian girl who sponsors her daughter. Her daughter has hope of a better life because someone is willing to pay costs that would impossible for this lady to pay.
I'm happy I had a chance to get to know the woman under the hard hat. Not only is she an inspiring example to me but getting to know her better reminded me that everyone has a story. Everyone has hopes and dreams and impossible challenges in their lives but sometimes I'm so caught up in my own challenges I forget that. Instead of going about my day focused only on the many things needing my attention I hope I can take time to see the people under the hard hats and behind the uniforms that have their own stories.
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