I will always complain about time.
Time seems to be on a mission to fly by amazingly fast; or is it just my life that's fast paced? My mother called yesterday to tell me that she would be coming to see me this Sunday and I couldn't understand why.
"I just want to see you." She said in her usual graceful voice. When she finally dropped the line, I tried to understand why my mother wanted to see me. I am not sick, I am not in a crisis, there has been no report of misconduct about me.... so why would mother just bother herself to come and see me? I call it a bother because I know how much my mother hates traveling. I called one of my sisters to help me find out if there was any trouble at home.
"I don't think there is any problem, otherwise we would all be summoned." She said.
But after sitting down for a few minutes, I got my answer. Mother had stayed too long without seeing her last born! It was so hard for me to believe that six months were almost gone since I last set my eyes on that inimitable woman... Six whole months! I think my constant phone calls; at least twice a day make me forget that there is a very long distance separating us. So tomorrow after the church service I will be a baby...
And that is not the only score I have to settle with time. This is so bad because really, time cannot dare come between me and GOD!
You see, last week a speaker(read pastor) was ministering at a revival service in town and like many others whose paths have crossed with my spiritual mom's, she asked me to be there... and speaking of my spiritual mom, when did I last see her?
So, she phoned from Harare where she is attending a conference on Africa Revival Summit on behalf of her bishop.
"Please make time and go, Daisy" She said. She hardly calls me Daisy.
"Can't the time be changed? I have classes at that time." I said and then I suddenly realized that I shouldn't have said that.I was sure she wasn't amused.
"I can see, my love you are soon becoming too big for GOD. You are now telling me that an entire conference should be rescheduled because you have classes?" She asked and I could immediately sense disappointment in her voice. She is not a deschooler herself. She bears a degree from Makerere University which she wishes was transferable so that she could give it to someone who really needs it.
"I am sorry..." I trailed off. I did not know what to say after that unreasonable statement.
"Of course I understand. I know how demanding academic work can be..." I did not want her to beg me to go to church because really, it was me who was going to reap.
"I said I'm sorry. I will make sure I find time and be there. I know how tricky it is to live without the constant reminder of God around me. I have to go. Don't worry about that. I will find time and go." I said in that firm voice that I'm told might scare away any prospective lover. Really, I don't care.
Our conversation ended thirty minutes later with an agreement that, out of the four days of the revival services, I would attend two services and write her a story about it.
After I dropped the line, I could remember only too well how predictable my schedule and her schedule used to be. If I wasn't in school pursuing that elusive Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education, I was totally available as long as my father wasn't monopolizing me, or was it me monopolizing my father? Either way, it was easy during those days. She was also doing something in Kenya and that is how sweet fate was for us. But right now, things are so different. I cannot even remember the last time I attended a church service with her; I sometimes hated it when she asked me to do something for her at the altar especially when she was ministering like say take away her pullover when the heat became unbearable but right now, I can give anything to hear her say,"Daisy, lead us in worship".
But yes, that's life. Everything changes and the only constant thing in life is change itself. So here I am, trudging the road to adulthood and hoping time will not be cunning enough to take away what has lived with me; my ideals and beliefs... for I have now appreciated that things are never going to be the same again. She is never going to remain on my side forever, so somehow, the lessons I learnt from her should carry me onwards without retreating or surrendering in this journey of faith, which is obviously not a simple one. It has been eleven years of learning and discovering who God is and I still feel I have so much to learn and I intend to learn, because for me, there will never be a better fulfillment than knowing that, the privilege I had of learning about God from someone who understood me and her role in my life wasn't a waste.
I hold these memories dearly and I hope God will enable us to see how all these ends. But time has to really quit this game of running too fast!
Another score! Mwajuma is on teaching practice! Really, there is nothing wrong with Mwajuma being on teaching practise but at least time should have waited for her to grow up a little. Mwajuma is a very close friend of mine and our friendship dates back to form three when we used to carry chairs and sit around the teacher's table during weekends and just chat our hearts out. We loved our own company. We laughed at our weaknesses in mathematics which I some times believe was all in our heads. Mwajuma would pretend to pass me a calculator when the maths teacher was in; when I opened it, I would see a note saying something like,"Do you think calculus is important in your life? Illustrate your answer. 20mks". Calculus would be the topic being taught and clearly, there was no connection between it and my life. So I would reply and say,"That's rather an obvious question. Relevance of calculus is rather too generous. Is mathematics as a subject relevant to your life?20mks"
But like me, Mwajuma is no longer a child. She is traveling the same journey as me... the journey to adulthood. She likes laughing like me and her jokes are normally endless... But for both of us, life is no longer a matter of waking up, doing a few things then going back to bed. Accountability has now set in, all thanks to the passing of time. We both have so many dreams whose realisation sorely depends on our efforts and beliefs... but time is worrying us.
"How is Eric?" I asked in our numerous text messages last Friday as I cleared off my desk after work.
"I wasn't cut out for that kind of life Dee. I wish I accepted that like you peacefully do" Eric was Mwajuma's first ever boyfriend whom he met during her first year in campus and she was so happy about it... you know the kind of happiness only first love can arouse? I haven't been there so I will not dwell too much on the subject.
But in short, the two did not have time... Mwajuma loves books more than me and I have reason to believe she is better than me in literature: but is time that limited? I will know when I get there. If ever.
Onto my last point. I just finished reading Place of Destiny by Margaret Ogola and the concept of time in that book is tearfully clarified. Amor .A. Lore, the central figure in the book has been diagnosed with cancer of the liver and she has just four months to live! Maybe that character did not have much to regret about because she had done most of what she wanted to do.
" I start working on the yellow document slowly, hesitantly. This is the real epitaph of my life. Not too long ago, I had presumed that I had another twenty or thirty years to go..." pg 34 .
I don't know how many years I still have to live, how much time I still have left... But I hope to begin looking at the grass and take notice, and realise that they are actually green...
Time is a phenomenon. It decides for many people and even in this economically defined century, time is still the master planner and I think the moment we put all our dreams on acquring money and everything, we miss the bigger picture. It is simple. Use your time well and happiness will follow you.
You will hear from me about time, soon!
Happy July, with love.