By Ruth Omorodion
8:05pm: It’s been a very busy day at the office. And after my last duty for the day, I walked briskly to the bus station; the only thought on my mind was to get home on time and take a well deserved rest.
As I waited for a bus, a 7-seater mini-bus pulled up near me. To my delight, it was headed towards my destination — Berger. This was quite unusual but I decided to take the riss: I hopped in. After I settled on a seat, I realised that the driver and his wife, who was seated next to him, were on their way home from work; as has become the norm with private vehicles, they had decided to pick up passengers to make some extra money. For most, it is to top up on fuel.
All things considered it was a smooth ride, although I still had a tinge of trepidation. Thankfully, we got to Berger without incident — my mind was playing a trick on me. Then I climbed on a bike that took me home.
9:30pm: I got home exhausted. Entering my room, I opened my handbag to bring out my tablet so that I could charge it — boom, I couldn’t find it! I was shell shocked. I ransacked my bag, yet the tablet was nowhere to be found. Several thoughts raced through my mind, thoughts of my contacts and other vital information stored in the phone. Over the past months, the tablet had literally become my ‘office’.
My mind raced back quickly in a tense attempt to establish where I last set my eyes on it. That was after I left the studio, I recalled. I quickly informed my parent and we all began to dial the number, hoping on a miracle.
The line rang but there was no response, so I calmed down a little, believing that perhaps it wasn’t stolen — at least, not yet. I kept calling for about 20 minutes, then someone answered the call. It was a female voice and I recognised it instantly: it belonged to the wife of the man who drove me to Berger.
“Good evening ma, I am Ruth and I misplaced my phone,” I muttered.
“Yes, you left it in my husband’s car. I’ll give him the phone,” she answered.
Then it occured to me that the phone must have slipped out of my bag when I paid the bus fare as I forgot to zip the bag.
Then I heard her husband’s voice.
“I am with your phone, where can I meet you to give it to you?”
I was bedazzled. This wasn’t really happening, I thought. In this day and age, misplacing one’s phone anywhere was losing it for good; but here I was anticipating the possibility of retrieving my lost tablet.
10:15am: I put a call through to the man whose name I had then learnt was Kunle. He said he would be at Secretariat bus stop in 20 minutes. I was so eager to hold my phone once again, so I rushed over there to wait for him.
As he had promised, he arrived to hand over my tablet to me. I was so grateful: it seemed like a dream I was yet to wake up from.
To show my gratitude, I offered him some money but he wouldn’t collect it. As Rita Dove has said: when we are touched by something, it’s as if we’re being brushed by an angel’s wings.