I was out with my family, ready to enjoy a relaxed dinner, unwinding from my birthday week, but as I reached for a plate, I noticed an elderly woman approaching, her eyes fixed on me with a mixture of purpose and warmth.
“Excuse me, are you Bennie?” she asked, her voice carrying a slight German accent, softened by the kind smile that played on her lips. Her gaze held a depth that felt strangely familiar, as though she already knew me and was merely awaiting confirmation.
Slightly taken aback, I nodded and replied simply, “Yes, I am.”
And that was when her face lit up with unmistakable joy. She clasped her hands, and her eyes sparkled with the pride of a long-held appreciation finally voiced. “I can’t believe it’s really you,” she said, her tone both excited and respectful. “I just wanted to say thank you—for the Miss Ebony Germany pageant. It’s truly a wonderful initiative.”
Her sincerity caught me off guard. For a moment, I found myself at a loss for words, simply nodding and trying to maintain my composure. This wasn’t the sort of recognition I had expected, and hearing it from an elderly stranger—and a German, at that, in a culture not known for easy compliments—added gravity to her words. Her level of appreciation made me feel both honoured and deeply humbled.
She continued, her voice gentle yet resonant, “The visibility, the platform you’re creating for the Black community here in Germany… It’s inspiring, not only to those who participate but to people like me as well. This is what empowerment looks like.” She paused, her eyes softening. “You’ve given so many a reason to believe that they, too, can be visible, pursue their dreams, and make an impact, wherever they are. And I hope you’ll encourage more to follow that path.”
Her words lingered, each one striking a chord deep within me. I thought of all the work that had gone into the pageant, all the late nights, moments of doubt, and the unwavering belief in creating a space where women with a migration background could be seen, overcome their struggles, find their voice, rise, and be heard. And here she was, affirming it all with a few heartfelt sentences.
I managed to thank her, though my words felt so small compared to the gratitude swelling inside me. She left me with a warm squeeze of the hand and a final smile before returning to her own table, yet the moment stayed with me. As I sat back down, my family sensing the shift in my mood, I felt a deeper sense of purpose take root, as tears rolled down my already wet eyes. This work—our work—meant something not just to those we directly supported, but to people we’d never even met, people like her.
That evening, I didn’t just feel seen; I felt connected to something larger than myself, to a movement of resilience, of community, and of hope. I left the buffet not only with a full heart but with a renewed commitment, feeling grateful, humbled, and inspired to continue forging a path for others to follow, wherever they might find themselves.
