In my country, we love and loathe deadlines in equal measure. We hate being told by which date we should do things, but then we don’t do anything unless the deadline for the thing is tomorrow. In a similar rush against time, in mid-October 2022, I was in a queue at a Safaricom shop near me. Behind me was my friend J, enduring the long queue, fatigue, and boredom with me.
The government through the Communications Authority had threatened to deactivate and permanently switch off our SIM cards had we failed to register them. The handsome gentleman at the helm of the authority had given a stern warning of unfavourable consequences to follow: no access to calls, texts, or even mobile money. I only bring up his pleasant looks because a few years back, he had caused a little bit of commotion at the electoral commission. His charm, charisma, and striking good looks had the electorate in a chokehold as he gave presser after presser of the then-ongoing 2017 presidential elections. It ended in tears, of course, but why keep a tally of past transgressions? We are a generous people, after all. Despite his less-than-honorable discharge from the commission, he was now a boss again at an equally big job, giving us no peace.
Motherhood: A Lesson in Self-Denial – A Creative Nonfiction by Oluwakorede Obaditan, Nigeria
In a parallel queue to ours, a man, loud, 5’9 ft tall at least, pot-bellied, and in a shirt a size too small, approaches the counter. The lady at the counter gives him a pleasant hello to which he responds enthusiastically, “Pouwa sana!” A little too strong, but okay, I think to myself. Maybe he is just a bit extra today.
But then he proceeds to tell her for the entire room to hear, “Msichana mrembo kama wewe na hata huwezi smile?” meaning “A beautiful girl like you, and you won’t even smile?” The girl looked on embarrassed, mumbled something to herself, and then as professionally as she could, proceeded to ask him how she could be of help that day. The man just laughed out loud, as if he had just accomplished the funniest act of the day.
At this point, I’m livid, I’m breathing furiously, rolling my eyes to kingdom come. When I turn back, I meet J’s eyes. She has that knowing look she gives me when we both observe outrageous behaviour in public. Also, this is very close to home. She knows my own experience in retail when I was a corporate worker on the girl’s side of the counter. She leans in and whispers, “This is just like that lady who name-dropped your CEO!” Laughter erupts between us. We look around guiltily, but we don’t apologize to the room. We are trying to do better and that also means not apologizing for existing or having a human moment.
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In the case J is referencing, I was working a shift at my old job, handling customers, paperwork, stamping things, basically working for the man. A lady approaches my counter, she is visibly older, perhaps in her early or mid-forties, well-dressed, a working lady by any definition. I say hello to which she responds by saying she is all right. She states her business of the day, I proceed to request her account information and identification which she provides, and I continue to check her account before I offer service. As I work, I can tell from the reflection on the glass between us that she is looking intently at my face. I look up as if by reflex and she asks.
“What is your name?”
“Kristin,” I reply.
“How long have you worked here, Kristin?”
“Three years Ma’am.”
“Three years and you can’t smile when greeting me?”
Shock. Silence.
“Eh?” she demands
“I’m sorry Ma’am.”
“Do you know who Gideon Weru is?”
Panicked. “Yes, Madam.”
“Who is he?”
“My boss… mad-?”
“Your boss’ boss!” she interjects.
“That’s correct, Madam.”
“I should have you know that Gideon, your CEO, is my friend,” she continued. “Do you know what a call from me, complaining about your bad service would mean for you?”
I nod. And immediately correct that gesture by, “Yes madam, I am very sorry” and force a smile.
Intimidated, I proceeded to serve her the best way I could, but she must have left dissatisfied. She will never know that that very morning, I had a loved one admitted to the hospital in critical condition. Just before I said hello to her, I was mid-prayer in a whisper, a Hail Mary really, pleading for a miracle. I couldn’t get time off so I was working while my heart was breaking.
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Later that day of the sim card registration, when reflecting on my day, I wondered what the girl this man was demanding a smile from was going through. Perhaps she was late on rent or was heartbroken, or grieving, or maybe she had severe back pain from her menstrual cramps. But work called, and she had to show up. Maybe she cried at the toilet booth during her lunch break from all the pressure on her shoulders. We will never know.
I don’t subscribe to the notion that ‘The customer is always right’. And preaching it repeatedly doesn’t make it true. Customers, like employees, are human beings. We all go through hard times. And if we expect others to show us kindness during our difficult times, we owe it to each other to extend a little grace at all times. As long as no offense has been committed in business, we are not owed anything more than good service. A smile is a bonus, not a right.
While we smile often, especially when doing business, please don’t ask me to smile more. But if you pay a little attention to the human condition, you’ll know I can’t resist yours. If you smile first, I will smile back. It’s incredibly automatic. And so deeply kind. It may even save my life.
Winnie Wekesa is a budding writer whose love for storytelling dates back to her early childhood. Having grown up in the remote parts of Kenya, in West Pokot County, her curiosity saw her always carrying a book in her school bag, to read whenever she could spare a moment, a habit that has stuck even in adulthood. Winnie holds a degree in Economics and Sociology from Egerton University. She is a published author of “From Panic to Peace: A Mindful Approach to Managing Anxiety.” A book close to her heart, in which she writes a relatable tale of her struggles with anxious thoughts while sharing her triumphs over this incredible struggle. This insightful work reflects her commitment to providing solace and guidance through the written word.
Before becoming a writer, Winnie worked in finance for a local bank and later moved on to an SME in the events industry. Her journey as she transitioned from a world of numbers to that of narratives reflects her deep-seated passion for storytelling. It has also provided her with a rich tapestry of insights into the complexities of human dynamics and societal structures. Winnie is fascinated by the human condition, she is not only a storyteller but also a bridge between worlds, always seeking to understand, and hopes her readers will join her in this quest.
Winnie is also a regular contributor of thought-provoking articles for an industry-leading tours and travel company based in Nairobi. Her narratives shed light on the wealthy culture and wildlife of Kenya while revealing the hidden gems of her East African roots.
