Shine!

His teeth shined brightly in sharp contrast to his dark skin. Under the fading light of the evening sun, his eyes glinted on spotting a prospective customer..

All of 10 years old, little Majok approached me with confidence and said “My friend, I polish good your shoes” without waiting for my consent he bent down, removed my shoes and handed me with a pair of rubber chappals, as a substitute– wear these he ordered.  I obliged him with a smile and watched him carry my ‘hush puppies’ to a well-lit corner in the open ground. I marvelled at his confidence and the way he addressed me as ‘my friend’ - not the condescending ‘sir’. 

The evening crowd had started filtering in, tables were quickly set up and the waitresses shuttled and swirled with ease taking and delivering the orders – it’s a busy Saturday evening at Kush hotel. I usually come here for my weekend dinners as my colleagues go back to be with their families..I prefer this place for its’s open spaces and I could watch Al Jazeera, listen to the news above the soft Afro music that wafts through the Chinese made MP3 players.. 

Several young boys, mostly older than Majok stream in and out throughout the evening – sometimes offering to polish shoes, sometime selling diverse wares including: box of tissues, tooth paste, mosquito coils and also offer the fake 'Charlie perfume' and 'Ray Ban' glasses. But they never pester you to buy something. Still, I have seen many customers actually buying mosquito coils and tooth paste and occasionally the Charlie perfume.  

Kush hotel is usually filled with locals and fellow Africans– Sudanese, Ugandans, Kenyans and Ethiopians - the non-African groups are not seen around this establishment. The locals and the Africans in Kush are an overtly friendly bunch, some of them even stop by my table to greet me with a fist bump and a toothy grin. 

The manager -Peter, takes pride in caring for me .He usually makes sure I'm seated in a good positon - that everyone walking in could not miss me. He feels that way, I'd be able to attract some expats who'd otherwise give it a miss - They prefer the posh Grand Hotel on the other end of Aweil town. I’m their honorary ambassador to bring in more expats to his business.  

Peter is a genial rotund Zimbabwean, scurrying through his property, supervising and hovering over his regular customers and making small talk about the weather and how Aweil is peaceful throughout the years. I agree mostly, as it’s probably only town in South Sudan where you’ll find people – including foreigners moving around during night hours. 

And then there’s Brownie, the scrawny, tall and hungry hound that’ll come running to me every time he sees me only to rest his long snout on my lap. His bruised body and face tells a tale of abuse it had to endure. Somehow I feel, Brownie comes to my table just to be petted and comforted rather than to be fed with morsels of food.. 

I turned my attention away from Brownie and towards Majok. He has now settled down in his corner with the solar lamp enveloping him in a golden yellowish hue. I could clearly see him – his thin bare feet sticking out from his torn trousers like twigs. Balancing carefully my much bigger shoes on his small lap, he opened his UNICEF branded backpack – meant for his school books – but for now it carried the tools of his trade - bits of cotton wool, pieces of cloth meant for cleaning and small bottles and tiny round black shoe-shine boxes. With these assortment spread out neatly besides his outstretched legs – Majok started shining my shoes. Every now and then he’d dip the ends of the cloth into the box, mix it well and then apply again on my shoes. After he’s satisfied with this application, he would vigorously rub the cloth from side to side with machine like precision as the cloth moved up and down and sideways.Eventually, the shoe emerged shining from under his  careful and skilful polishing. After repeating these actions several times, Majok stopped. 

He picked up my shoes from his lap – held it up against the lamp and gave it a thorough look-over and then walked towards me. He bent down, helped me put my shoes on, stood up and stepped back with the rubber chappals now firmly tucked under his arms. I paid him the money and affectionately ruffled his thick mop of hair when he insisted on paying back the change. 

Majok’s eyes thanked me as he turned away quickly, marched out of the tall gates of Kush hotel and disappeared into the darkness. I sat there for few more minutes, wishing that one day he too would emerge from the darkness and shine like the many shoes he had helped nourish back from grime to glory..