ECHOES OF HER PRESENCE
The call was persistent. Worse, was from a strange number. Collins wished it was a softer evil like his neighbor finding out he was tapping electrical currents from their NEPA pole, or a relative being sick of malaria or a call from Esther's parent requesting an explanation on why she had a positive pregnancy test — but it was worse.
“Hello, who’s… What?!”
A year earlier
Collins brushed off the early reports of the coronavirus wreaking havoc in China — besides made-in-China products never lasted. Unlike his paranoid parents, glued to the news for updates on infection rates, he remained optimistic about the new year, seeing 2020 as a symbol of perfection. In his mind, it held the promise of realizing his dreams — a new home for his mother, luxury cars, and the pursuit of romance.
“In Jesus’ mighty name we’ve prayed!” said the preacher.
His mum’s shoulder punch snapped him out of his daydream.
“Hmm, ride on papa!”
As criticizing stares bore into his face, he quickly corrected himself, murmuring, “Amen.”
The service was ended. It was time for the ‘greeter’s ministry.’ If it were his church at the University of Ibadan, he would have taken pictures in front of the garden by the entrance of the church or discussed with his friends from other departments about how tough medical school was and often joke about how his hand mistakenly filled in Medicine and Surgery course in his UTME form without full details of what it entailed. Or how he would have just used his 4 years of repeatedly writing UTME exams to serve as an apprentice learning spare parts at Ladipo, Lagos. Perhaps, by now he would have been balling.
But his church here was different — mostly old people. If he mistakenly mentioned how hard school was, they would lecture him on how hard his parents must be working to feed him and his siblings.
“Avoid all those evil girls and bad friends — they can swallow your destiny. You’re paid to just study very hard — so do just that,” most elders there often said so.
So the tactic was to stick with the script: School is very fine. I’m in the 200 level now. We thank God.
As lockdown persisted, the reality of curfew grew realer. The pack of nose masks that he had brought back home was slimming down fast by April. And although, he was more enlightened as a medical student on single use of the same, he had to caution all his family member to reuse and store properly until the blue linen in the front was obviously dirty. The motivation to study faded, replaced by mindless scrolling on WhatsApp. Amidst the monotony, his burgeoning feelings for Esther stood out among the few meaningful interactions.
Esther was a friend from Physiotherapy department. Meeting her personally was a good coincident. She had offered to give him her lab coat, at her own expense of missing the same chemistry practical session in 100 level back when all science departments did the same courses in CBN lecture theatre. Unlike others, she understood his predicament of being unable to access a spare due to his distant residence from campus. This was a sweet act that got his attention but as at 100 level then, he was more concerned about not failing out than falling in love. He had saved her number so he would call her to return it when he was done and also appreciate her. That was the last time they spoke — except for how-are-Yous and thanks-for-the-other-day.
In their second year of university, amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, they reconnected on WhatsApp. Esther’s posts about mental health advocacy after the #EndSARS protests caught Collins’s attention, revealing facets of her character beyond kindness. As they conversed, Collins found himself drawn to her interests in programming, acting, and mental health. Slowly but surely, he began to fall for her.
In February 2021, as university life resumed, Esther was among the first visitors Collins received. That same week, he summoned the courage to ask her out, and hence that moment, no other woman held significance. Despite his academic commitments in Anatomy, Biochemistry, and Physiology, as well as managing his footwear business off-campus, Esther became his sole focus.
As his MB part one exams approached, It became more evident that he knew nothing. Well, except the unwritten course he jokingly dubbed “Esther, my Aorta.” Despite Esther’s understanding and offer to assist with his business in the evening, twice weekly. Yet, the strain of his studies weighed heavily on their relationship, causing it to fracture under the pressure. Despite the breakup, Esther continued her commitment to Collins’ footwear business, immersing herself in the daily operations and forming genuine connections with the customers. Her dedication not only provided practical support but also offered her a much-needed respite from the turmoil of their failed relationship.
One evening she would be crossing the road to deliver a pair of footwear to a customer and a lorry unaware of a large pothole slid into it and fell on it side crushing her thighs to a red mix of bone shards and blood tap.
A neighboring fruit seller who was around to witness the event rushed out and quickly called Collins while she was bundled with her fractured half to the hospital in minutes.
“Hello, Collins, Esther get one mad accident o, dey rush come UCH, now.”
It was as if spoken in less than a second.
“Hello, who’s… What?!”
***
Two days post the accident and she was barely recovering from the shock.
“Go take care of yourself” she coughed out when she saw Collins, “I still love…”
Collins waited for something more than her last breath. Death was just for old or bad people, right?
“My Aorta,” he tapped her check lightly, “wake up. Look I got something for us to eat, wake up.”
A slender nurse in a white-striped, brown uniform approached Esther’s bed, her movements deliberate as she checked Esther’s pulse. Collins watched her intently, desperate for any sign of hope.
“5:29 PM,” the nurse announced, glancing briefly at her watch before meeting Collins’ gaze with a solemn expression.
Collins’ spinal temperature suddenly dropped below 0°C as the weight of the words settled upon him. Outside, the sudden fluttering of bird wings punctuated the silence, echoing the turmoil within him.
“No!” Collins screamed, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions — guilt, sorrow, and an overwhelming sense of loss. She had left him like the birds that scattered when he screamed, leaving behind only echoes of her presence.
