At the beginning, Aziz looked like he was one of the lucky ones. The kind who inspires young strapping men to leave home and try their luck abroad.
He got what everyone would have wanted; a pair of elderly masters who were wealthy and generous and included him in their will. When the masters passed away, they left Aziz with half a million more to take home.
With his inheritance, Aziz bought a house, opened a shop and sent his children to fancy schools. He kept his shop well-stocked, his wife the village fashion-icon, and his children driving the latest cars.
The only thing that Aziz did not buy was a lifelong education, something that would have helped him handle a buck. Something that 1-in-3 lottery winners try to tell when nobody listens anymore. Something that NGO influx did to Aceh and Haiti's economy. With his inheritance gone, Aziz put his house, shop and cars on the market. The children slowly arrive home, seeing their mother last year's dress.
If I fail at delivering subtly, I'm trying to tell you two things.
- Charity is vicious. Apply with discretion.
- Nobody, whether wealthy or poor, gobbles an oversized cake without choking on it.
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