The African Timer

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Everything was set. The priest and the congregation, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen, the parents and the bride.

The bride was fidgety. It was 30 minutes past time and her groom had not arrived. The priest could only wait 5 more minutes, after which she would be joined to 'his absence.'

And then he came, walking briskly down the aisle, sweating copiously. A flat tire was his first excuse, traffic was his second.

But we knew him...right from his undergraduate days, and we already predicted that he'd be late for his wedding. It was his habit; he was so good at it that we nicknamed him the 'African timer'.

Old habits can be broken and new ones developed. It all started by consistently showing up late. If he begins to arrive early consistently, in no time he himself will start wondering why he is never late.


Well, that is not likely to happen to Mr African timer because he has no intentions to change. He'd rather blame the traffic, the weather or the dog on the street than take responsibility for his actions. In fact, we know he'd be late for his own funeral. We'll open the coffin and wonder, "why is this guy not here yet? If he takes too long, we will have to bury an empty coffin."

Walk to Destiny

It was a cool evening – the evening following a hot day resulting from the heat of the African sun.  It was 6:20pm and we were already at the train station, waiting for the train scheduled to come by 6:30.

“Dad, how does the train work?”

“I don’t know, Jimmy”

“Dad, I like the train, I want to know how it works. I want to own one”

“You can’t know how the train works Jimmy, neither can you own one. You’re an average student in an average school, besides I’ll never make enough money to send you to a good school where you can learn such things, it’s for the rich kids”

I was quiet for a while, wondering if my dad’s long-held philosophy of ‘inequality of fingers’ is valid or not. He says, “You can’t dream of big things when your dad is just a cleaner at the office and has no money to send you to good school. Leave that for the rich kids.”

The train started approaching from afar. Oh, how I wished I could build one. My dad told me several times how he dreamt of being a pilot but his dad always told him ‘dreams are for the people that have the means to make them come true.’ He probably felt the way I feel too. But then, he seemed to have adopted the same philosophy – of cowardice. I looked through his eyes and could guess what he was thinking, “Why dream when you can’t afford it? Face reality and live within your means.” Those were the words of his father, which now run through his veins too.

The train stopped before us and the doors flung open. I never understood how doors could open on their own without a hand turning a knob. Dad presented the ticket, moved in and headed straight towards his seat at the back of the couch. I followed him and sat on his laps. I already knew he would not buy me a ticket so it was not a big deal anymore. He loved to sit at the extreme end where he could see everyone in front but he’s hardly seen, except by eyes that rolled to the back – and they must really be searching for him. We have been through that route for about seven years and we have sat elsewhere only twice – both times someone else got to dad’s seat before us.

As the train started out, father and son looked through the window. Bushes passed, trees passed and then we got to the infamous CCIT – one of the topmost engineering schools in our part of the world. This was where my fate lied.

“Dad, see!” I pointed at the school, “I want to enroll at CCIT”.

“Oh my God, when will this boy stop dreaming? You can’t be here, Jimmy. I can’t afford it and you can’t even win a scholarship”.

That was rather harsh, and I felt really bad. I guess he noticed my countenance because he afterwards spoke with a cool tone, “Listen Jimmy, I love you and will do anything for you. I would love you to enroll at CCIT but you know I can’t afford it. Such schools are not built for us, but for the rich. If my grandfather had not been cheated by his uncles, he would have inherited a large expanse of land, which my father could have used as a collateral to receive the government loan to farmers in his days, and he would have been rich enough to send me to a good school, I would have been a pilot and would have been able to afford your fees at CCIT. You see, it is not our fault; we’re just not cut out for it.”

I simply couldn’t fathom why some unfortunate incidence in history should continue down generational line.
“But dad, this doesn’t have to continue. I want to be rich so I can send my children to a good school.”

“It has to Jimmy. Now, don’t be stubborn. You can’t be an engineer and you can’t be rich enough to send your children to a good school, it’s not our place, period!”

I couldn’t believe he said that!

I started to cry. My dreams were about to crash right before my very eyes. I didn’t want to tell my children this same old story of why I can’t afford a good life because somebody who existed almost a century ago had a misfortune. I placed my head on his chest – a good sleeping position.

A couple of minutes passed and I woke up. It was already darker than usual and I instantly realized the implication.
“Dad, looks like...”

I paused partly because I was interrupted but much more because I was shocked to see my dad sob.

“Jimmy, you were right. Things don’t have to continue the same way. I was afraid things wouldn’t work out if I tried changing my job or studying to get higher qualifications for a better job. Not all people who tried good things made it and I’m afraid I’d fail if I try. But I guess it is worth trying rather than continuing like this. I at least have a chance at a better life. You will enroll at CCIT, we will try our best”

I wasn’t sure I heard him clearly. Looks like an angel spoke with him while I was asleep. I think the angel should visit him more often.

He wrapped me in his arms and father and son sobbed gently. Things would not be the same again.

“Dad, looks like we’ve passed our terminus”

“Oops!”

We trekked 45minutes back that day but for me, it was like a walk to destiny.

The Bogeyman

“Why in the world does the boss want to see me? Have I done anything wrong?”

I pressed the elevator button.

“The other day, he smiled and commended my work, but today he only asked me to see him when I’m done with today’s reviews, and he sounded so displeased.”

Elevator doors swung open. I stepped in and pressed button 6.

“Oh God, you know I have always put my best foot forward in this company, done everything in my power to ensure the growth of company; except that I took two days off last week, claiming that I was ill whereas, I went on a trip. You won’t let them fire me for that, will you?”

“Or could it be…no no no, I can’t believe I’m going to be queried for calling my fiancé through the office phone after I begged Laitan not to squeal. That girl is a tweeter; she must have told on me.”

“But then, it shouldn't be a big deal, the boss will only warn me and that’ll be all.”

On the sixth floor, I stepped out of the elevator and signaled to the secretary to inform the boss that I wanted to come in.

“Or, could he have found out about my trip? Oh no, Laitan told him that too. I should have known her jaw muscles have lost their contractility. This is a terrible mistake. I shouldn't have told her I wasn't ill. No wonder he sounded so sarcastic when I called and told him I was getting better.”

“Please wait a min ma’am, he said he’s not ready for you yet”, the secretary said after she made a call through to him.

“Not ready for me yet? Seems this is more serious than I think.”

“Ok, I’ll deny it! Yes, good idea. I’ll deny it and then present a doctor’s report tomorrow to prove that I was actually ill.”

“You can please go in now ma’am”

I started towards the door.

“But hey, I uploaded the pictures of the trip on facebook and even tweeted about it. Oh no, I can’t deny it. That’s it, I’m fired!”

I knocked and gently opened the door, “Why did I bring this on myself? I’ll tell him how sorry I am and hope he forgives me.”

I stepped into his office and saw him staring at his laptop screen.

“Thelma, I've been going through your facebook wall”, he said with a smile I thought was wry.

“I knew it, I’m screwed!”

I stood there mute. Apologies wouldn't help. Tears began to gather in my eyes.

Then he said, “I thought of a facebook page for our growing company, but rather than employ a new staff to handle that, I think you should handle it. You’re doing great with your page and I trust you’ll do great with our page too. What do you think?”

I was dumb!

How often do we create fears that don’t exist?

LIFE BEGINS AT FORTY

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I know you are here for the interview but I have come to tell you the interview is over, and to announce the results.”

I paused to enjoy their reactions. They had come in tight suits and pants with edges that could slice an apple; shoes so polished that I could see my reflection in them; everyone appeared neat and prepared. I felt mischievous.

“The interview is not about to start,” I continued, “it already held while you were coming here. The taxi men, the street hawkers, the road side mechanics, the beggars, the passersby… they were all the interviewers – they are our people disguised that way so we can see you in real life situations.”

I paused again to see their reactions. They looked dumbfounded, still yet to comprehend what was going on.

“We knew you would prepare for this interview, you would give us structured and well-tailored answers but we want to see the real you. You are going to be representatives of this company and who you are when no one is watching, is important to us. Our interviewers have done a great job and we have your results.”

I could hear their heartbeats. No one knew how he performed because it wasn’t a conscious interview. I decided to ease their tension a bit,

“You see, most times we get so busy about who we will become and what we will achieve that we forget who we are now and what we can achieve now. We talk about what we will do when we graduate, when we get married, when we retire … just as you prepared how you will answer questions when you get here. What we often forget is that, life itself is what we are living, not what we will start to live when we have what we want, or when we clock 40.”

I paused again to ensure that they assimilate what I just said while I prepared to explain further.

“We have good plans of how we will be benevolent and impart the society when we start earning good pays, forgetting that our N50 today can make someone’s day. We work hard all year round, believing we will spend quality time with our family when we retire but it doesn’t always work that way. By the time we retire, the family could have grown apart and children wouldn’t delight in spending time with fathers with whom they were never friends from childhood. We get busy bagging degrees, thinking that when we reach the peak and become professors, we would have time to start the NGO, we’ve always dreamt about, which would feed the poor and help the disadvantaged. But by that time, other responsibilities and ambitions show up and we delay the dream further till it can no longer be accomplished. Then, we tell our children the story of how much good we could have done – but didn’t do”

They were very much engrossed so I summarized it all,

“Life does not begin at 40 or any other age. It has started, you are already living it. Live it right – now.”

As I watched them absorb everything I had said, I felt fulfilled. I just made good an opportunity to impact the lives of people I might never meet again. I excused myself and went in to check if my boss had finished his breakfast and was ready to conduct the interview. He had asked me to find a creative way to keep the applicants busy while he had his breakfast.

I went back to address the applicants who by then, thought less about the interview and more about their own lives.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said with a smile, “the interview commences now. Applicant number one, you will be called in, in a minute. Good luck”

How else could I have explained the delay?