BE A ‘SMALL GOD’
At3 am my brain was still racing. I’d spent all night – well, all year really – feeling useless and wondering how I could use my skills, time or resources to do more good in this messed-up world. I should give Owen some money, my restless brain decided.
Owen Chisvo is a beader in my neighbourhood, and such a lovely guy that I once wrote about him for a magazine. He was so proud of the article that he pinned it to the tree he sits under. My words brought new customers to find him, and I glowed with pleasure. But nobody is buying beaded ornaments now. When I pressed some money into Owen’s hand, he said he could buy food and pay his rent in Hillbrow. ‘I’ve been touched by God,’ he said.
As an atheist that made
