The Little Things

hanut - little hole-in-the-wall store

Ahmed owns the little hanut around the corner from my house. Whenever we're making pancakes and run out of milk, eggs or oil, I just pop over there hang around while little kids buy 10 riyal candies, and every other customer cuts in with their purchase. Eventually Ahmed looks at me and smiles knowingly.. "Salam, Raja.." (as in, thanks for waiting patiently, what do you need?)

I met him when I first moved into my apartment exactly a year ago this week. He's been there every day since... from sunup to long after it sets. Sunday through Saturday. With one exception. Last summer his brother and family visited from Agadir. His little nephew learned the wares and prices of goods; dragged butagas canisters out for customers, refilled oil and flour bins and helped uncle Ahmed in anyway he could. Then one day I went by and his store was closed. It had never been closed besides lunchtime or Laid Kbir. Groups of men and women were clustered around their store and home. I discreetly inquired what was the event...? Apparently the little nephew had gone to play in the river with his Agdz friends ... and drowned. He was only in town for a week, and the family had been preparing to return to Agadir that very day. Instead, they were mourning; holding a wake and a funeral.

A few months later a little girl was helping Ahmed. He asked me if I knew who the little girl was. I couldn't place her but had my suspicions. "Remember my little nephew that used to help me in the store?" He smiled a sad, gentle smile..."Yes.?" "This is his little sister. She's learning how to help me now."

Day after day after day Ahmed sits in his little shop - an 8' x 12' little alcove. Once in a while his mother will sit in for him. But she knows no prices and we must wait for his return to pay up. He married last spring, and though I've never met his bride, he's a proud young husband. Today I strolled up to his little metal counter, greeting everyone. Ahmed proudly held out his hand to the little bins behind him..."See, I've been reorganizing today! I want to make this a good store. And hopefully we'll be able to buy more and better things to sell and make it an even better store that will grow and grow." Even in his calm way he was excited and satisfied and hopeful. I grinned and congratulated the morning project. It occurred to me that he'd never complained about his life or work. I had insinuated once that it must be boring sometimes, that maybe he should take up reading a newspaper or something.. he thought it was a good idea. But he knows this is his work, and is doing the best he can with bins and flour and candies and shampoos. And proud of it. I walked away humbled and inspired.