A Twisted Fate

It’s the d-day! How swift events have unfolded leading up to this day. Everything seems to have fallen in place. Your drycleaner delivered your bespoke suit one week ahead of this day. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you have the calm resemblance of a young Andres Villas Boas barking out orders on the Stamford bridge touchline. ‘Perfect!’ you thought. 

You have a presentation to deliver, a morale-boosting speech to spur on youth who were fed up with the turn of events in their fatherland. A large number of them wanted out, they don’t care about what is on the other side, ‘we’ll survive regardless’ are their words. 

It’s a free event, not even guaranteed to draw the attention of a large number of the frustrated youth, perhaps in the deep pool of motivational speaking, you could use this chance to etch your name into a group that boasts of illustrious names like Niyi Adesanya. 

* * * * * *

It’s a rainy day in the ancient city of Abeokuta. ‘This wouldn’t last long’ she thought as she zoomed off. It was just a little more than showering yet the water levels were rising no thanks to the visible blockages of the road side’s drainage system. The route of a close-by river had been diverted to increase the number of property owners in a nearby neigbourhood. ‘We are the roots of our problems, do we expect the government to clear this drainage system for us?’ she asked herself, visibly frustrated as she made way for the service lane. 

* * * * * *

Your script is ready, you’ve gone through it over and over again, ironed out the most pressing issues while throwing in a few jokes in between. You stepped into your car and ‘grann grann’, it’s a text from Chioma. ‘Hello baby, you must be on your way, go do your thing and make me proud like you’ve always done’. ‘Perfect timing, I’m just leaving, thanks love, you’re the best’ you texted back. The thought of Chioma made you smile while you navigated through the customary Saturday traffic of the commercial city of Lagos. 

* * * * * * 

She stepped out of her car to wait out the rain in a nearby store owned by her friend’s mom. They were both ecstatic to see each other. ‘My dear, where are you headed in this rain?’ the older woman asked with a worrying look. The rain had started pouring heavily by then. The younger woman explained her plight and the older one woman understood. 

* * * * * *

There you are, Golden Tulip hotel, Amuwo Odofin. It’s 2:22pm, well over an hour remaining to ‘do your thing’. A quick peek into the conference hall of 200 guests’ capacity made the butterflies in your tummy fly. ‘How great, if only Chioma was here’ you thought. ‘Hi love, I’m at the venue, just a moment to relax, I love you’. Preenn your text was delivered.

* * * * * *

Now the rain is pouring heavily, one can barely differentiate between the drainages and the roads. ‘I should have stayed at home with her jeje ooo’ cried the younger woman. The water at this stage has filled the store up to the level of their knees. Most of the materials in the store are either wet or completely soaked.

* * * * * *

It’s 3:30 pm – 30minutes to your presentation – and you can feel the presence of one or two guests. As calm as a duck, you were seated in isolation reading a CNN analysis of a recent Trump-Putin meeting on your Samsung tab. 

3:50 pm; the hall was almost full and you stood from the waiting room where you were seated but somehow something caught your attention at the far end, the beautifully placed LCD TV on the wall adjacent to where you sat. ‘BREAKING NEWS: Flooding in the capital city of Ogun state’ that’s the first thing you saw on channels television. ‘May the almighty save us’ you said silently as you headed to the hall. 

3:55 pm; about stepping into the hall and your phone rings, Chioma it is. ‘Hello I don’t know who I’m speaking with but the owner of this phone saved your number as ICE which is…’, ‘I know, what happened?’ you interrupted the strange voice that’s supposed to be Chioma’s. In the world of the Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), ICE is an acronym for ‘In Case of Emergency’, a quick method of contact during emergency situations. The idea was conceived when paramedics realized that in most accident scenes phones are found but they don’t know just who to call, hence the populace have been advised to have at least one ICE contact. ‘There’s a flood in Abeokuta’ the stranger continued, ‘and we found this bag, thankfully the phone is waterproof and not locked but we can’t find the owner, so we contacted you’.

Is this real? Can life get any worse? Not now, you have a presentation to deliver in less than a minute. Just then your mentor joined you and noticed your pale face. ‘Are you alright’ he asked. ‘I’m okay’ you replied feigning a fake smile. You stepped into the filled hall to a large applause. 

You thought you could do it. You’ve convinced yourself that you can in the past 30 seconds. Chioma is your fiancée of two years and your wedding is just six months away. She’s a schoolteacher who is well adored by students and colleagues alike. A staunch believer in her tested teaching methods. ‘No child is dull’ she fondly says with a wide grin. Her smile is outworldly, a joy to behold. Just two weeks ago she was bestowed with a rare ‘model of excellence’ award, the first of its kind in the entire region, an honour to commemorate her sheer selflessness and unrivaled commitment to work ethics.  

‘Good day ladies and gentlemen’, those were your last words with tears rolling down your cheeks. You became numb and fell flat on your face. In came your colleagues who walked you away, they sat you down in another room. ‘No Chioma, you can’t do this to me’ you thought while weeping heavily like a child who has just been grounded and denied access to basic things. 

Chioma is gone. Life happens. 

* * * * * *

“Madam, person wan follow you talk o, dem say dem be police” Musa, the gate man, handed the phone to her. Musa’s contact was saved as ‘Home’ on Chioma’s phone. “WHAT??? NOOOOO!!!” She cried out loud, “that can’t happen. We were together just moments ago, she came to spend the weekend in Abeokuta”.  She’s describing Ada, her childhood friend to the officer on the other end. They used almost the same things, phones, clothes, e.t.c. to the point that they both save their fiancée’s contact on their phones as ‘Stevia’. Coincidentally, Ada’s fiancée was attending an award ceremony that day. “Oh? My condolences Madam. Some boys in the neighborhood retrieved two identical phones and contacted us and that's how we got in touch with you.  Please visit our station at Iyana Mortuary, we have a few questions, sorry for your loss once more”.  

That explains it, Ada took Chioma’s phone with her mistakenly. Chioma is Alive and well but Ada? Not so lucky. 

* * * * * *

Another call and everything becomes clear, you bump your fists into the air à la Jose Mourinho, celebrating the near-miss fate had just scared you with. But you fail to remember that Ada too is someone's and her Stevia is probably going through what you went through some minutes ago. 

Isn’t that the human way? Isn’t that how we all act when we’re faced with no choice but to choose? I’ll leave you to decide on that one.