Money can't buy happiness

[AbuHossam]

Even if money can't buy happiness, even if money can't buy many other things, it's still good as far as it could buy life. What I mean by life wasn't to resurrect someone who had already died. It was preventing the person from dyîng. It was paying for the hospital bill's of those you love. Showing that your child that you love him or her.



Training that your child in school. If such a person has the zeal to play sports, then, you can easily sign him or her to any possible club at a very young age.

A car will hît someone on the road and the person dies, while the driver of the car will only sustain some injûries. Why shouldn't it be your child who was driving instead of the one trekking and exposing his or herself to many casuãlties?

Just think about that.

Whenever I shed a tear, it means that I will tell a story. And now I'm sobbing.

There was this neighbour of ours that love telling stories. His name was Nalu.

"What a nice name," I had always said to him. But let me tell you, I don't like the name, if anything, I despised the name, but what matters here was the boy who was answering the name. The figure. The small boy, made the name beautiful. He designed it to his taste.

I'd sat down for hours, listening to his stories. Sometimes, I wished that he would write it down for me on a paper so that I could read it later but Nalu couldn't read or write. He wasn't trained in school.

Shaaa! He still had time for schooling because he was only ten years old.

When I met him, I told his parents, who'd only him, that this was a destiny. I will train the boy to any school of his choice. That day, I told his parents that I will take him with me to the city. They were glad. They accepted it because I was their neighbour. They trusted me.

The following day I'd an emergency at my office. I rushed back to the city but before I left, I went and told Nalu's parents that I will be back on Saturday to take Nalu to the city with me. That Nalu should take his time and spend some more moments with his parents and say some goodbyes to his relatives and friends.

I later regretted this.

On Friday night, there was a robbery down the road. When the security men arrived unexpectedly, the robbers ran. The security men ran after them, shooting. Nalu's parents was actually cultivating when they first heard the gun sound. But when it sounded again, they were already at their compound, panting. Both of them looked at each other and smiled, telepathically. They're happy because Nalu refused to follow them to the farm. They're happy because they wouldn't have ran as fast as they did, if Nalu was with them.

But when they looked at the far end of the compound, they saw a figure lying on the ground. It had already started to rain and the water flowing in the compound was mixed with blöòd. They started to run towards the figure.

When they reached the figure, crunched on the ground, their clothes was already soaked with water but they felt a peculiar hotness and perspiration as they watched Nalu wearily shaking his body and parting his lips to speak but no sound came out of it.

They looked on the ground and so fading footprints. Some people had ran passed there. They weren't even sure if it was the first gun shot they heard or the second, that hît Nalu.

His father slipped his left hand under his neck and slipped the other hand under his legs and started to ran. And with his wife trailing behind him, they didn't stop until they reached the hospital.

In the hospital, the doctor refused to treat him because they couldn't deposit any money. They wanted to call me but they don't have my number and the only person who knew my number by heart was Nalu but he couldn't speak. Nalu was trying all his best to speak but couldn't.

He was just staring at everyone and moving his hand. As he could move his hands, the doctor suggested about giving him a paper to write my number but Nalu can't write any number. He only memorized my number in case of emergencies to call it out for someone to call me but not to write it. He can't write it.

In a nut****l, in the night, Nalu dîed.

But he wouldn't had dîed if he could write. He wouldn't had dîed if his parents had money and at last, he wouldn't had dîed if he followed his parents to the farm.

_____Just another a lesson.

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