I watched from afar as Lola, my schoolmate and neighbour, stood outside her classroom door, her stare blank at the almost peeled-out paint of the hallway, her eyes weary from overnight pains and tears. She must have heard the whispers again and didn't want to get inside, I thought to myself.
I felt bad for her; losing a father at a very tender age like ours was something I didn't wish for anyone, not even my enemies.
I watched as she took a deep breath before stepping into the classroom.
"Lola, how are you, my dear?" her classroom teacher asked, standing up to walk over to her. The sunlight peeped into the room through the large windows.
Lola stood there speechless.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart. I'm sure your father loved you," her teacher comforted her. She bent over and enclosed Lola into a warm embrace.
Then, like a tap let loose, the tears came rushing down Lola's face. "I didn't get to say goodbye", she said in a teary voice.
I watched as her teacher raised her face to the ceiling, trying hard to hold back the tears. "Be rest assured you're not alone Lola. We are here with you whenever you need us," she assured her. To the class, she asked, "Right class?
"Yes, Lola", the class echoed.
At that moment, I felt what humanity should be like.