DARKEST HUMANITY DIARIES... Touched by an Angel

Some days in life are so packed with encounters that leave one so touched with emotions. Sunday April 24th happens to be one of such days for me.

My day began on a rather sad note with an early morning attendance to a private burial service being held for one of my classmates at the Junior High School. It was the express desire of the deceased that in the event of her passing, she would want her family to give her a private burial.

As per the arrangement, family and friends would come to the family home and sign her book of condolences, after which the family would take her for internment. So I went there to sign for her Junior High School classmates.

It was such an emotional moment seeing the twin sister of the departed, struggling to let go off her “other half” (her twin). As the casket was being carried into the ambulance, she was tearfully fanning her departed twin.

After the casket was placed in the ambulance, Judith leaned on a waiting vehicle crying, being consoled by an elderly woman. As I went over to console her, she said to me:

“We came together, now she is leaving me...”

As I saw the ambulance depart for Juliet’s final journey to Akwamu Fie for internment, I was so touched by the event of the morning; considering the fact that I was in that same house barely two months ago for the funeral of their late father.

I thought I had had the best or worst of an emotional day. But wait till you read my other encounter for the day!

In my year group at the Junior High School at Pokuase, we had two set of twins amongst us - female set and male set. I happened to be in the same class with both sets.

Whilst Judith and the late Juliet are fraternal twins whom we easily differentiated, Abane and Abambiri are identical twins some of us are not able to differentiate till this day.

Bizarre circumstances surrounding my daughter’s Senior High School placement, and my ordeal with a placement agent resulted in my daughter having to go to school very late. I rushed her to school on Saturday April 23rd, so she could spend the weekend to acquaint herself with the new school and new friends prior to classes commencing on Monday.

As weird as it may sound, I rushed her to school with a different school’s prescribed dresses - wrong check-check colour with sleeves against sleeveless. When I sought permission from the House Mistress to bring the prescribed dresses on Monday, I was told she won’t be allowed to go to class with the wrong dress come Monday morning. 

So I had to do everything possible to send the prescribed dresses the next day (Sunday). 

Right after I left the funeral grounds at Pokuase, I dashed off to grandma (Auntie) at Abeka-Lapaz to pick the new dresses - 2 check-check and 2 white frocks - all expressly sown on the Saturday.

I quickly “jetted off” to my daughter’s school in the Eastern Region. I got to the school just about 1 pm.

As I left the administration block walking towards the Girls Dormitory and House Mistress Bungalow, a first year student approached to help carry my bags. I said no because the bags were not heavy. But the student insisted he wants to offer me help as they were being taught at the school. So I handed my bags to the student - a male student.

As we were walking together, I started asking him questions.

Me: What’s your name?
Student: Elorm
Me: Do you speak Ewe?
Student: No
Me: How come you have Ewe name but can’t speak Ewe?
Student: I didn’t stay with my parents.

At this juncture, I was of the opinion that his parents might be living outside the country! I was beginning to like Elorm, as one from a rich home but very humbled and well-behaved. A very lucky boy from a fortunate home - Dadaba!

Though he was wearing mask, I could see he is good looking. Hmmm! Appearances can be deceptive at times. I kept asking Elorm one question after the other, as my inborn journalistic traits won’t go away, even as I couldn’t pursue my childhood dream career.

I asked about Elorm’s mum only for him to say she’s deceased. Mum died when he was 5 years old. I became teary at this moment. I then said sorry to Elorm. I wished I hadn’t probed him to the point of reminding him of his mother.

Well, I decided to quickly shift focus to dad, since talking about mum would be akin to watching a sad movie.

Me: So where is dad?
Elorm: He is not there.
Me: What do you mean by that?
Elorm: He is no more
Me: You mean dad has passed on?
Elorm: Yes please.

At this juncture, I was struggling to hold my emotions. At the same time, I had to hold myself strong in order to strengthen him.

Me: When did daddy die?
Elorm: He died before my final exams. 
Me: You mean your BECE exams?
Elorm: Yes please, one week to the exams.

What a day it had been! From one encounter to the other! Oh Lord, why litter my path with such encounters when you know I’m a softie?

I asked Elorm who his guardian is. “My mother’s sister’s daughter is the one who looks after me,” he said.

“Your aunt’s daughter you mean. So she is your cousin. Can you give me her number?” I enquired.

The rain was about to start. Hurriedly I wrote my number on a piece of paper for Elorm. He wanted to go to the dormitory and fetch the cousin’s phone number for me. I told him to get the number and wait for me at the administration block.

As Elorm left for the boys’ dormitory, I headed towards the House Mistress bungalow. It had begun drizzling. Just when I got to the bungalow, it started raining heavily. The rain lasted for over an hour. 

It was past 3 pm. With the fog weather conditions and the rains, I ought to be on my way soon. How I wished I met Elorm again to hug him so close, like a loving uncle or a Godfather who cares so much. 

As I was on-board the vehicle heading back to Accra, my encounter with Elorm kept playing on my mind. I had reminiscences of my most loved childhood 90s fantasy drama TV series Touched by an Angel.

Throughout my return journey to Accra, one of Dolly Parton’s sad songs also kept playing in my mind - Down from Dover.

Being a softie has a peculiar characteristic - tears!

Maxwell Maundy
Author/Writer