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Writer's pictureAhmed Salah

Meditation on Humanity, Empathy, and Kindness.

In recent years, I have been through what can only be dubbed as “insurmountable” tests to the human spirit. With no intended hyperbole, I have been through warfare, attack after attack on my soul, to which I always, through some blessing, managed to surpass. This, however, was not without consequence, as is natural when one encounters the worst humanity has to offer, they become more like them. Periods I became cynical, jaded, dare I say bitter, assuming all those around me were self-interested. I was born an altruistic soul, a fact about myself I’d eventually lose sight of, but deep within me laid dormant, an exceptional capacity for empathy, and care.


I sit here tonight, or I suppose this morning, writing at my desk, pondering the nature of humanity and how we deal with conflict. Since I moved into university, the occupant opposite me, a young girl, has caused quite a fuss for me. Loud music, many guests, and at times pretty rude behaviour. I lost sight of her as a person, what in reality was a human being, appeared to me as just a noisy door, another obstacle to squish on my journey. Until tonight.


I shut down my computer, and when expecting to hear the quite solace of early morning, I instead heard loud noises and videos from outside. I put on my slippers to see what was going on, as usually the doors are extremely soundproof for most menial noises, expecting to perhaps tell a drunkard lying out in the hall off. Instead, to my surprise, I saw a girl, sat against the wall, eyes welled up from crying, a desperately needy look on her face with rosy cheeks. I could not find the gall within me to ask her to stop what she was doing, instead, instinctively and with no thinking, an occurrence rare for someone as deeply mental as I am, I asked her if she was okay, and if she needed anything. Once she thanked me and told me she was fine, I even walked all the way downstairs for 5 minutes, to not burden her with the idea that I’d come out to tell her off.

Someone who I do not even recall the name of, who just a couple hours ago I’d have described as a pure nuisance, has instead inspired me to postpone my sleep, and write this very passage. I now sit here, almost an hour later, with the image of her reddened eyes ever present in my mind. Suddenly, it all comes back to me, blocked memories from before I’d lost sight of myself, and my honesty. An incessant need to check up on people, even as a child who was labelled weird, and subsequently outcast, I had this compulsive nature to be kind, caring, and giving.


I recall onetime, the lunchtime playground, noisy as ever, in about 2011 or 2012, I was playing in those make-believe cars, and noticed a girl, I remember it so very clearly. Eloise, a young blonde girl, bow ties in her hair, and a messed-up collar, sat on the bench alone as no one batted an eye. I went and sat next to her and cheered her up. Never told anyone about it and did it for the sake of it. That need, that compulsion to care, is this part of humanity? I have constantly labelled humans as wicked, detestable, and naturally self-centred. But what if we aren’t? what if the conventional idea of “humanity” is in fact true, but similar to me, negative experiences and trauma lead us to put up these impenetrable walls, to protect, to survive.


In all my cynical monologues about the imperfections of society in recent years, I forgot one thing about me. A need to give, I always purchase meals for homeless people, at my expense, never tell anyone, never even learn their names or let them praise me. I just do it. To care. To give. I know realise, that despite all my cynicism, I never lost that part of me, and now that I am aware of this, I will never let it slip from me again.


I have previously written about the impertinent nature of seeking virtue, in the pursuit of the good life. And now I must maintain this includes honour, kindness, strength, mental fortitude, and reason. Where I previously defined virtue as fulfilling one’s natural purpose, and described how reason separated us from animals, I neglected another thing. A deep sense of empathy. While I’d disagree with those who say animals do not have such, as most the genuine love I have received has been from animals I cared for, they lack the ability to prioritise empathy, and honour, above their own survival. Driven by instinct they are, which we, as humans, are not.


Be good, be honest, be virtuous, be kind, ask your neighbour if they’re doing okay. Sometimes, all it takes is a glimpse to change your perspective entirely.

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