A simple encounter at a checkpoint

I was coming back from shopping, heading home. The sun was hot—so hot it felt like it was sitting right on top of my head. I was tired, carrying my bags, just wanting to reach home and rest.

As we reached the checkpoint, there was a line of cars. Everyone waited quietly while soldiers checked each vehicle. Our car stopped, and we waited for our turn.

Suddenly, a white SUV overtook us. Bulletproof, tinted windows, no number plate. You couldn’t even guess who was inside. Before we could react, another white SUV followed, moving like it owned the road.

The soldier in charge of our line ran toward the two SUVs to inspect them. He looked tense but focused. After finishing the search, he sprinted back to the small booth where the other soldiers stood, making loud noises all the way.

“Pour water on my hands—quick, quick!” he shouted.

Another soldier grabbed a bottle and started pouring water over his hands. Concerned, he asked, “What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

The first soldier, shaking, answered with complete seriousness:

“I touched the car that was bought with haram money.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then the other soldiers couldn’t help themselves—they burst into laughter.

Even I, tired and hot as I was, had to smile. In a place full of tension and fear, this small moment stood out. It was a reminder that even in chaos, people still have conscience, still joke, still try to be good in their own ways.