Life/Heart

“Julia come immediately, hurry” my mother screamed reaching for the TVs remote and increasing its volume. It was the 8:00 news, they were speaking on the current educational issue in the country as most universities were on strike. I was washing the dishes because we had just finished dinner so I had to leave it to answer her.

“Nothing is certain so if you’re not sure always prepare for your day of reckoning”. Cynthia started, as she talked with her friend Jane.

 ‘’If you feel there’s nothing more left for you, you need to ask yourself if this is what you want to be known for. When your name springs up what follows it, you get to decide that, it might not seem so but trust me it’s the shit. The choice is yours nobody else’s’’.

The crowd at the junction was overwhelming because it rained heavily that afternoon, I hurriedly crossed the road to the other side where I would get a cab going to Louis hotel at Rumuola, Port Harcourt, in rivers state.

A voice was yelling from the crowd, it sounded familiar but so faint that I couldn’t make out the owner nor the words. I stopped to listen, it became louder, and turning I searched desperately with my eyes for the person my mind was positive I knew.

“Nothing is certain so if you’re not sure always prepare for your day of reckoning”. Cynthia started, as she talked with her friend Jane.

 ‘’If you feel there’s nothing more left for you, you need to ask yourself if this is what you want to be known for. When your name springs up what follows it, you get to decide that, it might not seem so but trust me it’s the shit. The choice is yours nobody else’s’’.


It was a cold evening, I had just gotten back from school when I sat with my mum as she stared into space. She didn’t even hear me walk in, she must be deep in thoughts, I imagined staring at her, wondering what she was drowning in.

“Mother”, I called, but she didn’t flinch which was unusual. Scared that something might have happened to her, I called her again with a push to call her back to consciousness.

‘‘My dad killed my mum in cold blood, so I would never let a man hit me and go free” Susan said voicing her thoughts while she sat on one of the single sofas in the sitting room. She picked a framed photograph of her mum, stared hard as if it would come to life, but it didn’t. Tears dropped on the frame as she recalled how her mother was also her best friend.

 ‘’Nothing is certain, everything is temporary and everybody leaves’’ with the back of her palm she wiped the tears off her face, as if wet palms were better than wet eyes.


It rained heavily that afternoon, I was a bit bothered because in the next hour I would be going back home. Against my wish for the rain to stop, it increase as if the controller derived joy from turning it high. This time I knew for sure that I was going to be drenched all the way home.