I hurried to him. He was only about fifteen, but I addressed him with respect as I had been taught. “Sir,” I said, “could you please teach me to read?” He stopped talking but didn’t look at me. One of the five boys around him said, “ Baka, he is talking to you.”
Baka snorted and then turned. “You want me to teach you to read?” “Yes, Sir.” He glanced at the five boys. They had been staring at him, wondering what he would say. “You have come to the right person,” Bala said with a chuckle. The boys chuckled along with their captain, and I sighed with relief.
“You need money to learn how to read,” Bala told me. “money” “money”— a lot of money.” I wasn’t expecting this. I groaned inwardly. “I don’t have money,” I said. “You will soon have.” “How? If we dip our finger into the alms we collect, we will not be accepted in paradise.” I was repeating what I had been taught.