My sister once said to me, “Yomi you take time as a suggestion rather than an instruction.” To be fair, I can see why she would think that but honestly, it’s not my fault. The universe has conspired to only allow me to be on time, when I am getting paid.
Last summer, the boys and their dad had made breakfast plans with their grandad, after which I would take Eddie to the doctors. Now, anything that involves Grandchildren and Grandparents is always going to test my marriage. Unfailingly, people start making comments that make other people think “This guy does not know I have already moved on with my life. Keep talking and you will know what an empty bed feels like in rainy season.” Then I thought about loading a NEPA meter and decided I will give marriage another chance.
I suggested he leave with the boys and I would catch up with them. As the front door slammed shut, I felt a burden lift off my shoulders. I checked my phone, I had 3 hours. I cleaned the kitchen and did laundry, I had 2 hours to spare. I spent 2 minutes max in the bathroom, came out and checked my phone, I had 10 minutes to go. How? All I did was brush my teeth, wash hair, deep condition and take a shower, max 3 minutes.
My heart started racing. There are only 2 things I don’t play with in this life, money and my children’s health, everything else is up for grabs. I could feel the anxiety setting in. I began to pray, “O God that stopped time for Joshua, oh help me today! Father have mercy. Lord have Mercy.” In my hurry, I still managed to follow my 16 step face and skin treatment routine. There’s no point in being late and looking like Morticia Adam’s cousin from the village.
I was dressed in 2 minutes ish and ran out the door only to run back in to get my phone. “Lord as I walk out of this building, let the bus come in 2 minutes, so I don’t have to run to the bus stop.” I prayed. As I walked out, I saw the bus fly past me. I began to sprint. My Adire Kimono with BidsInGraceLand all over it, my Harrods shopper, my disproportionately big bum, all flying in different directions as I raced for dear life to this bus. Thank God for the pensioner that required 10 minutes and the assistance of 3 people to get of the bus. I got on the bus just in the nick of time. As I made my way to the back of the bus, I glanced at my fellow passengers who had witnessed my athleticism and realised my dignity did not make it onto the bus with me.
It was not dignity I needed, it was time. I sat on the train, closed my eyes and cried out to the Lord in my heart, “Father have mercy!”. I even spoke in tongues. I know how I struggled to get this appointment and I couldn’t afford to miss it. “Lord for Eddie’s sake, have mercy.”
As the train pulled into the station, I jumped out, ran up the stairs, out the station and began to power walk down the high street. 20 steps from the clinic I realised, I didn’t have the child. The child was at his grandparents, 15 minutes away. My calves were burning. I was sweating like a goat that knew it was about to be sacrificed. I pulled out my phone to call Nte. It wasn’t going through. What is this again? For goodness sake!
I tried again, still not working. Then I read the message on the phone. Airplane mode. I turned the network back on. Like magic, I saw the time change on my phone and go back an hour. My phone had been on Paris time. I wasn’t 30 minutes late, I was 30 minutes early! My hands began to tremble from the adrenalin still pumping in my body. I called Nte. “Hi baby,” he started, and without letting me respond, he continued, “I thought you wouldn’t make it so I changed the appointment to 2pm this afternoon. We’re still having breakfast at the café on the high street. Come and join us.”
I stood staring at the phone. Come and join us?!
Violent thoughts began to flood my mind. I was actually early. 30 minutes early! Clearly not by my own power but a literal act of God. After all that drama and stress, there was no fight left in me.
I joined them for brunch and then took Eddie for his vaccination appointment.
10 minutes late.
