Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Selfishness (05/14/26)
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TITLE: Accessories Required | Previous Challenge Entry
By Terry R A Eissfeldt
05/20/26 -
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As he followed the other passengers over the tarmac toward the terminal building, the computer bag dug into his left shoulder, undoing any good the stretch achieved.
Kamuzu International Airport sat atop a sparsely treed plain with a range of mountains in the distance. The young man ignored the songs of African birds and the scent of tropical flowers. The only thing he wanted was a shower.
While family greeted other passengers with hugs and screeches of glee, Grayson looked around for the person assigned to pick him up. With arms crossed and a tapping foot, he waited as the noisy crowd dissipated.
“Finally,” he huffed as he spotted a young Malawian woman holding a sign with his name. Instead of the traditional brightly colored floor-length dress adorning most women in the terminal, she wore jeans and a Nike T-shirt. He strode toward her.
“Where were you? I’ve been waiting.” His arms jerked up in a question.
“Get your things. I’ll wait for you here,” was her only reply.
“I thought that was your job,” he sneered.
“Huh,” she huffed. “This is going to be a long two weeks.” She ripped up the sign, walked to the nearest garbage can, and motioned him to get on with it.
“Unbelievable!” he said as he grabbed his suitcase and guitar before following her.
She climbed into a Landrover, without a glance towards him. Grayson threw his things into the back, got in, reclined the seat, and closed his eyes.
“Will you at least tell me your name?” he asked.
“Naomi,” she answered as she started the vehicle.
“Wake me when we get to the hotel,” he said. The only answer was sarcastic laughter.
The slamming of the driver’s door jerked Grayson awake. His heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out over his skin. Was he back at the site of his accident?
“No,” he thought. That was days ago in Vancouver.
The police had shown up; he failed the breathalyzer test, and then endured an awkward meeting with the president of his Christian record label.
Within twenty-four hours, they shoved him onto a plane and flew him to Malawi, assuring him that a mission trip would do more towards damage control of his brand than rehab.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the door opened to a crowd of children shouting his name.
“Grayson, Grayson, Grayson,” they chanted in unison.
Clearly, this wasn’t his hotel. “Guess I should have read the itinerary,” he thought.
Pasting on his Dove award winning smile, he jumped out feigning enthusiasm. Dirty children surrounded him, grabbing at his designer clothes. Red dust puffed up with every step, and a foul stench reached his nose.
Children gripped his hands, causing him to cringe. They led him toward Naomi. An older child followed, balancing the guitar on his head.
Remembering why he was here, Grayson extricated his hands from the children’s grimy grip, pulled out his phone, and began taking selfies.
Naomi interrupted him. “Sing some of your ‘famous’ songs,” she said, using air quotes, “then help serve lunch.”
She clapped her hands, speaking to the children in Chichewa. A boy handed him the guitar while the rest sat down around him.
Grayson strapped on the guitar, then offered his phone to Naomi. “Do you know how to take videos?” He asked.
She rolled her eyes and whipped out the newest iPhone from her pocket, glaring at him. “Why do you think I’m here except to catalog your every selfless act?” Her dark eyebrows arched to match her sarcastic tone.
“Good,” Grayson said, pocketing his phone and turning back to the children.
Two hours later, Grayson was in his hotel room uploading photos and videos of his first day in Malawi. He was required to post at least three times per day.
The first photo he chose featured his smiling face in the foreground with eager children behind him.
“Perfect.”
Next, he uploaded a video of himself singing.
“Looking and sounding good.”
Then he found a picture Naomi took of him serving lunch to a little girl. Her face was beaming. He cropped himself out to focus on her, then changed his mind.
“It’s my image that needs damage control,” he said as he hit the upload button.
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