Can There Ever Be Another…?

It’s often said that anyone who’s had a life-altering situation or experience never forgets that moment when his or her life changed forever. I guess this is true now for me too. I remember exactly calling Dr Abdulahi about seven times within ten minutes and following up with four text messages within the same period in the wee hours of that fateful day, May 30 this year. How time flies? It will be two weeks by tomorrow.

I had stayed awake all night and was constantly on the phone with my sister Azuka and also the lady we had come to know and call ‘Aunty TLC’. Intermittently I called my other sister Dorothy (  another sister, Florence having left for her US base just a day earlier and was yet to land) and wondered if she and my dad (God please keep him) could hurry over to the National Hospital in Abuja as my darling mom had just been wheeled into the ICU as she fought to stay with us. When I spoke with the Consultant, Dr Wakama at about 1.45am I sensed from his voice that the fight may not be going our way but that didn’t deter me. I kept the faith, prayed the Memorare as many times as I could and being in the month of May, a Marian month (this would make sense to Catholics) I left it in the hands of God. I had returned from Abuja just two days earlier and had hugged my mom before leaving for the airport and had told her I would be back to see her. I kept vigil and worked the phones with Dr Abdulahi, Azuka and aunty TLC. It was not a good place to be in, trust me. I paced my room, sat up on the bed, went to the washroom, knelt down and begged God to let my mom stay with us some more.

The unquestionable God had other plans and felt she had run a good race and fought a good fight and that it was time for her earthly sojourn to come to a close.

So in spite of our collective best efforts and those of friends and people of good disposition, by about 6.30am on May 30 this year, I became motherless. My life had changed forever. My mommy dearest had gone to be with God. For her biological children and her many ‘other children’, a light had gone out, the fire had been extinguished. For our dad, her husband of forty-nine years and ten months, he had lost a lifelong companion, an unusual confidante and a sister rolled in one. There can never be another. Our mother Theresa, our saint had gone marching…

On August 3, we would commit her to mother earth. Coincidentally, that day was to be the fiftieth anniversary of her wedding to my dad. Surely there can never be another like my mom. May the good Lord grant her eternal rest.

VACANT means FREE

If you are wondering what the title of today's post really is about or if it indeed makes any sense, you may not be alone. Had I not been involved myself, I guess I'd be in your corner as well. Before going into the story that led to the title of this post, let me put you out of your misery if you are one of them scratching your heads and say it shows how some things we take for granted may not be that simple after all. It also shows how complicated the English language can be (is that news?). I guess I'm feeling a tad generous and if I could invest a little in a lottery (spare me the lecture about how harmful gambling is) I'd have gone out and played the Lotto right away.

So it happened that about a fortnight ago (for you who speak the North American version of English, it means two weeks… lol), I was on a long haul flight from the most populated African country (some would add that it is the most populated black nation on earth) to the only country geographically on top of the US. I leave you to decipher what the two countries referred to above are. That’s some trivia for you. By the way, I hope it’s acceptable and politically not incorrect to describe a nation as black. In these days of danmed  if I do and still danmed if I don’t, can anything not attract some criticism?

So I was on this flight and on the second leg of it I was enjoying some banter with two African ladies (wow I hope I have not put my foot in my mouth with that description) while stretching my long limbs and hoping to stave off DVT (now surely that’s a recent addition to the street lexicon in Nigeria after the passing on of a creative musician turned reality show participant from what is alleged to be deep vein thrombosis).

We were standing by the aisle close to a washroom and some lady (events would later show she was a resident of North America) after reading the sign on the door of the washroom (‘loo’ to you Brits) in green colour (‘color’ if you are American) that read VACANT, asks aloud if that meant FREE? Now I’m wondering if that question was rhetoric or if indeed it was directed at us being that we were no cabin crew. One of the two ladies I was chatting with volunteered a reply that ‘vacant’ meant ‘unoccupied’. Four of us then chuckled and the lady that asked the question proceeded to push the door into the washroom.

I hope now you can relate to the title of this post. I hope also that you can now appreciate why some words that you may take for granted might indeed mean nothing or have a totally different meaning to persons who are from a different geography. That reminds of when I had newly relocated to the most culturally diverse city in the world (it is also the most populated city in the nation fondly referred to as the Great White North) and my son Papa had come down with coughs and a cold. I had taken him to a walk-in clinic and promptly told the doctor that he had catarrh. The doctor looked at me puzzled and wondered what that meant. I was more puzzled that a doctor did not know what catarrh was. Finally after describing the symptoms to him, he said ‘ oh runny nose…?’ That was an epiphany of sorts for me. So what was catarrh to me was runny nose to the doctor.

So when next you are in company of persons of different backgrounds, please pause to think if words that you use have the same meanings to them. You would be amazed that ‘trunk’ may refer to a part of a car that others would refer to (not the car please) as a ‘boot’ and not just a part of a tree.  So also is a ‘hood’ a part of a car which some would call ‘bonnet’ and not just part of a garb worn by priests and monks or by those who are either trying to keep warm or making a fashion statement.

If I had you reading to this point and I have not confused you, I say thank you because vacant may mean free or unoccupied. I welcome comments.