LIFE'S WICKED PLANS

Today started well. I woke up feeling like my day would be rainbows and sunshine. I had whatsapp calls, disturbed facebook for a bit, someone really made my morning. I ate, I laughed. Then I slept for an hour.

Earlier today, there was a mini reconnection with my primary school mates on one of my facebook posts. We argued about the cutest boys in class; the brightest ones too. It made me yearn for those days; reminiscing about the past. I wanted it to be physical. I dreamt about all of us; at least the ones I could remember. We were children again. We had dreams, we were innocent, we were completely happy.

When I woke up, it was bright. Too bright but I wasn’t bright. The sun was high up in the sky; scorching. I was gloomy. A premonition it was. I tried to come up with why I felt uneasy. It was unexplainable. It would come to light soon- I just didn’t know.

I decided to take a walk, shake off the bad feeling. I got to the junction with a bounce in my steps. I got to the junction and walked into my old primary school mates; with his father. One of those we mentioned in our facebook reunion.

I don’t remember faces, I remember situations. But I remembered him. I used to go to his house for my assignments. His parents could afford textbooks. Mine couldn’t. I hadn’t seen him in 10 years.

Ekaasan sir. I bent my knee slightly to greet his father. I didn’t wait for his response before punching my friend lightly in the arm.

Oju e ree. The grin on my face was from ear to ear. I was excited. Then I really looked at him. He looked rough. Unkempt. Very lean. Lost.

Then he snapped. Laughing maniacally. He ranted. On and on. He talked about London and Jamaica. He talked about meeting the president of Libya. He talked about us dancing azonto in the gutter. He came onto me. I rushed back.

‘He’s getting better’. I looked at his father. I saw a broken and tired man. He gripped his son tightly. I stared at them. He didn’t want him to break loose.

My mouth went dry. My eyes huge and wide. I shivered. I didn’t look back. My friend is mentally unstable.

Life didn’t give him a chance. The 10 years old him wanted to become a lawyer. He had dreams. I thought about him. His chances in life.

Then I realized something my friend wrote was true. We don’t choose our paths, we choose our destinations. Then we beg God for grace and mercy.

My friend is very sick. But he will be alright. One way or the other, we will all be fine. We will weather the storm. We will go through life unscathed. No matter how high the tides are, no matter how strong the waves are.

Just be thankful to your creator. Everyday. Then ask for grace and mercy. Today, it looks bleak for me. Tomorrow, I’ll be fine. Will my friend be okay? He will get to his destination. The question is:when?

After all, life is nothingness. All ephemeral.