The kindness of strangers: I lost my Kindle – and the person who found it loved my book collection | Australian lifestyle
forBy the time I realized my Kindle was gone, I was already on my next trip. It was 2014, and I was enjoying a trip to South Africa before starting my first graduate job, but it wasn’t an auspicious start. I left my Kindle in the seat pocket in front of me during the 14-hour flight from Sydney to Johannesburg and was horrified.
My e-reader was my constant companion and comfort, living under my pillow after I read to myself every night. I’ve spent months curating a selection of my favorite books, and now they’re gone forever. However, I was about to arrive in Cape Town, and I couldn’t let that ruin my vacation. For me, South Africa was both a foreign and familiar place, the place of my parents’ birth, not mine.
A few days later, my phone rang. An unauthorized user tried to send a document to my Kindle account. A Google search of the email showed that it belonged to a young man from Pakistan. I thought it was strange that my Kindle would resurface with someone who, like me, was from a place far away from where it went missing. I wondered what had brought him to South Africa, and whether he found the country as beautiful, vibrant, and terrifying as I did. I sent him an email asking if he had found my Kindle and, if so, could he please return it.
Almost immediately, I received a response. He bought a Kindle from someone and loved my book collection. He asked me if he could keep it, and he would be happy to pay me for it, but if not, he would return it. I was impressed by his enthusiasm for my book collection and his offer to return an item he had purchased in good faith, but now that there was a possibility of getting my favorite Kindle back, I was eager to seize the opportunity. I replied, thanked him for his honesty and asked if we could arrange a meeting.
His response didn’t hide his disappointment at not being able to keep the device, but he was philosophical about it: “I can’t take it if you don’t give it to me.” He sent his phone number and the Johannesburg suburb where he lived. The next 10 emails we exchanged were about logistics. I asked him how much he paid for the Kindle and told him I would reimburse him for that amount. I wondered if he would disappear throughout these logistical negotiations, but he was patient, and we finally agreed on a time and place to bring him back.
A friend said if we got married it would be a great story. But the reality was less dramatic. He simply admired my books and wanted to return them to a book lover, and by seeing the Holy Quran and other Islamic books on his Kindle, he realized that we also shared an interest in our mutual faith.
In the end, we never met in person. When he eventually returned the Kindle to his friends in Johannesburg, they told him he was so shy that he handed it over and then quickly walked away. He graciously declined my offer of payment, asking only that I remember him in my prayers. And every time I’ve turned on my Kindle since then, I’ve checked it. When I returned home to Sydney, I read my books before bed, feeling grateful for the adventures I had had, for all the adventures yet to come, and most of all, for all the people I had met along the way.
