Excerpts of a Memorable Encounter

A True Story (Although Not Verbatim)

I got into the cab at the corner of 64th and Broadway heading to my doctor's appointment full of hope that I could get rid of this bronchitis amidst all this shivering as the wind rocketed down Broadway with so much force it seemed to suck the breath out of you.

I looked at the driver's name and could only make out clearly his last name: Ibrahim.

"Where are you from?," I asked.

"West Africa," he replied.

"What country?," I responded trying not to be nosy.

"Sierra Leone."

"Ahh," I said. "A country that I truly hope has only bright moments in its future."

He smiled briefly and nodded. "Me too."

"Now that Foday Sankoh is gone from the scene, that certainly is good news," I said

"Foday Sankoh was an awful man, but I think that what we need is to have Charles Taylor answer for what he did."

"I agree. He still appears to be interfering in Liberia," I noted. "They've warned him about it a couple of times."

"They shouldn't warn him. If he did it once they should kick him out. He made a deal."

"Yes he did. You're right, of course," I agreed.

"That court that the government and the UN set up is excellent and it's fair. I don't want to pre-judge the man, but I want him to face justice. West Africa has so many problems. The Ivory Coast is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen and it has been through hell. The French have done a good job of making it stable again and they've saved lives in the Congo. Africa's a mess, but it shouldn't be. It's got so much of everything: riches, people and cruelty."

"You can let me out here." I handed him my fare and tip. "It was a pleasure speaking with you. I'll keep Sierra Leone in my prayers."

"Thanks. Have a good day."

"You do the same."

I left the cab and walked away overwhelmed and tormented by feelings of inadequacy, sadness, despair and rage, tempered solely by the warmth that Mr. Ibrahim extended to me and the quiet optimism he seemed to embody for his country; optimism that was understandably cautious. So much more should be done, but all I could was flail about for answers; answers that I was largeless powerless to implement. I put my parka up and walked to my appointment, feeling humbled.