Monday, July 11, 2011

Missed Call

“Hello mummy”, I said as I answered the phone. “Bayor, it’s me, Daniel”, came the response from a voice I could barely hear or recognize. If he didn’t mention his name, I would have thought it was either a wrong number or a network glitch. In the few seconds that passed before he continued, I tried so hard to reconcile the voice I just heard to the picture of my childhood friend I had in my mind. Though we had not spoken for quite some time, I still knew something was wrong. All these years, whenever I spoke with his mum, I’ll ask about him and his siblings partly because as their dad passed on a few years ago, he was the man of the house. “I’m on the sick bed but there’s something I’ll like to discuss with you” he added. This came quite as a surprise but I agreed and told him I would see him as soon as I could. I was on a journey up north to Kano that day and although I knew I would make a stopover at Kaduna, I knew I would have to really squeeze out the time to see him especially since I knew I was on assignment and didn’t really call the shots as regards my movement.

Being that I left Abuja pretty early, I arrived at Kaduna in time to catch my breath as I awaited the arrival of the guys in the other car who decided to take off some time later than we did. I felt the need to rest for a short while before they arrived and my kip was interrupted when my younger sister came in to announce that the other team had arrived. It then meant that I had subtly made up my mind to see him on returning from Kano so that I won’t be in any kind of rush. The drive down to Kano and the programme logistics were rather demanding that I didn’t remember to call to ask about his well being till much later. When I eventually called, the number never went through. This was the case till I returned back to Abuja and got a call moments later from my elder sister that Daniel didn’t make it. When she gave details of the time he passed, it coincided with the time I was on the road to Kano. I was lost for words at the sudden realisation that the call he made to me was more important than I had given priority to. All of a sudden, I started to see blocks of time that I would have maximized to get across to him. I couldn’t help thinking to myself what it was that he wanted to discuss. Why me? What would I have said? Would it have made any difference?...

I really wish I know what to write to make this post worth the reading but if it makes any sense, the definition I heard from someone of the word “Poor” comes to mind. He said P.O.O.R is an acronym for “Passing Over Opportunities Repeatedly”.

Need I say more?

- ‘Bayor

No comments:

Post a Comment