Tehreem lman
imantehreem126@gmail.com
Let’s get one thing straight — if your charity needs a camera, it’s not charity, it’s marketing. You’re not helping people, you’re helping your own image. That photo you just posted of you handing a blanket to a poor man? That wasn’t for him. That was for likes, for comments, for that warm little rush you get when strangers call you “an angel.”Real kindness doesn’t need a witness. It doesn’t need to trend. But you’ve turned generosity into a public performance. You kneel down next to a beggar, pose with your brightest smile, maybe even angle the shot so the brand logo on your clothes is visible — and then you upload it with a caption about “making a difference.” You know what difference you actually made? You fed your ego.I’ve seen people turn funerals into photo ops. They’ll stand over a grieving family, hand them a donation, and make sure the camera is rolling. You think that family wants to be broadcast in their worst moment? You didn’t just give them money — you stole their dignity. You turned their pain into your content. And you call that charity? No. That’s exploitation.Here’s the ugly truth: if there were no one to watch, half of you wouldn’t lift a finger. You’re addicted to applause. You want the world to know you’re a “good person” because deep down, you’re not sure you actually are. So you build a portfolio of good deeds — not for God, not for humanity, but for your own brand. You’ve made kindness a currency.And let’s talk about those “charity events” you organize. Thousands spent on banners, stage lights, catering for VIP guests — and in the end, the actual help that reaches the poor is a fraction of the budget. But hey, at least the chief guest got a bouquet, right? At least you got your photo taken shaking hands with a politician. You’re not here to change lives — you’re here to network.Some of you hide behind the excuse: “We post to inspire others.” Let’s be honest — how many people are actually inspired to give after seeing your video? And how many just think, “Wow, you’re so generous”? You’re not inspiring; you’re fishing for compliments. You’re teaching people that charity only counts if the world sees it. You’re training a whole generation to equate generosity with publicity.I’ve seen people hand over a small bag of rice and act like they just saved the world. They’ll take ten pictures, four videos, slow-motion shots of the bag being given, a selfie with the recipient, and then spend the next week milking it for engagement online. Do you even realize how humiliating it is for the person on the other side? You’ve turned their hunger into your stage.And the saddest part? Real charity, the kind that could actually change lives, is usually done quietly. It’s the businessman who pays for an orphan’s education every year and doesn’t even tell his own family. It’s the woman who leaves groceries on a struggling neighbor’s doorstep without leaving her name. It’s the person who transfers money to someone in need without making them beg publicly. That’s charity. That’s dignity.But quiet charity doesn’t work for you, does it? Because it doesn’t get likes. It doesn’t make you the center of attention. And let’s face it — you don’t just want to help, you want to be seen helping. You want to be praised. You want to be called generous so badly that you’ll turn someone’s worst day into your best content.Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the poor don’t exist to make you look good. They’re not props for your kindness performance. They’re not there for you to collect moral credit points. They exist because the world is cruel and unequal, and your job — if you have the means — is to tip the balance, not turn it into a photoshoot.And if you think God is fooled by your “good works,” think again. He sees every flicker of pride when you pose with that donation. He hears the little voice in your head saying, “This will look great online.” And He knows exactly who you were really trying to please. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t Him.Here’s my challenge to you: try helping someone without telling a single soul. No photos. No captions. No “accidental” slips into conversation. Just do it, and keep it between you and God. Feel how strange it is to get no applause. Feel how uncomfortable it is to have no proof to show anyone. And then realize — that’s what real charity feels like.If you can’t give without showing it, then stop calling it charity. Call it self-promotion. Call it a brand campaign. Call it image management. But don’t insult the very idea of generosity by pretending it’s pure when it’s been polluted by your hunger for attention.This isn’t about hating on generosity. It’s about protecting it. Because every time you make charity about you, you make it harder for others to give without an audience. You create a culture where help is only given if it comes with credit. And that’s not just selfish — that’s dangerous.So the next time you feel the urge to take that photo, ask yourself: Am I doing this for them, or for me? And if the answer even slightly leans towards “me,” put the phone away. Pick up the gift, hand it over, and walk away. Let the good you do be invisible to the world but crystal clear to the One who matters.Do it quietly. Do it sincerely. Or don’t do it at all.
