Le malheur des autres

Cette fois, c'est dans l'eau de mer. Je m'apprête à plonger lorsque je reconnais mon voisin. Ce monsieur m'appelle normalement: "Africa Man ou Congo Man." Chaque fois il ajoute: "I would like to see Africa before I die, man. I 60 years now, man. But it is expensive to travel down there." Hier, je me suis permis de lui demander dans ce qu'il fait comme travail. Il me l'avait sûrement déjà dit, jamais j'ai oublié.

"I am a security guard at a government building. Working 15 hours a day! I messed up my life because of 15 credits short. I was almost finishing my BA in Sports Studies in the US when my life stopped. Since that time I kind of struggling to survive."

" But you have a great job," que j'ai dit.

"No man, this is the lowest job you can ever get in the hierarchy of government. I have been working there for many many years without any hope of promotion. Many of my classmates are successful  in life. That causes me to cry, even to die."
Et il s'est mis à verser des larmes. Profondément touché, je lui ai tapoté les épaules pour l'encourager et l'inciter à voir le bon côté de la médaille:
"Another one would be happy what you have achieved so far. You have got a job, you live honestly. You are respected by your fellow citizens. What else do you expect from life? Be happy with few you have instead of envying other people who might have money but you do not know by what means they get it. Never give up!"
Il s'est empressé de me remercier: "Thank you Congo Man for your sweet words. Respect! Thanks for giving me courage and trust."