THE ONE EYED SUNDAY

Dragging my battered Ted Lapidus roller luggage and clutching my newer Ted Lapidus carry-on bag I stumbled into the departure area of Amsterdam Airport Schiphol, glad to be out of the frigid cold outside. Passersby paid me no attention, not even the slightest look of pity at my one closed eye as I squinted  my opened eye in an effort to read the directional signs. An old woman in a black overcoat and stringy grey hair hurried past me, carrying what looked like a sack of 'garri' (African rough flour made from dried, ground cassava) except that the sack was brownish, with catarrh green streaks running along the sides. "Eww" I muttered, my mouth twitching as I stepped aside to avoid being brushed. I let out a yelp as the movement caused me  to trip over my luggage. It was going to be a long journey.

"Gobo" by Idowu Ejere Accra, 2012

I had been in Wageningen, The Netherlands for 4 days in what had been a fairly interesting mission mainly because I was attending an Africa, Pacific and Carribean youth strategy meeting. It is not often one meets young professionals of like mind discussing agricultural research and development or developing strategies that affect millions of their peers. But that is not what made it interesting. it was interesting because in development work most of the meetings are crowded with old people many of whom are retiree consultants, more of whom believe they have a cure for Africa and the developing world's poverty malaise. But I digress.

Going to bed the night before, I gently took off my contact lenses and put them in their case where I soaked them in my usual Renu solution. It was imperative that I took them off before going to bed because when I sleep with them they turn cloudy and itchy and it would do me no got an entire day with itchy eyes. I woke up early the next day to join the taxi arranged to drop a couple of participants and I off at the airport at 4:30am, because my flight to Accra was scheduled for 7:00am and it would take approximately an hour and a half to get to Amsterdam Schipol from Wageningen by Taxi. I rushed through my morning rituals only to discover after taking my bath that one eye of the pair of contact lens was missing. After searching frantically for it, I realised my dilemma. It had been an impromptu trip and I had mistakenly left my spectacles behind in Accra. I also did not carry my usual toilet bag which means I travelled without an extra pair of contact lenses. Not for the first time. 

The first time I ever had to do without my contact lenses, I was a university student. I had travelled from Okada to Benin City to do some shopping and during the course of the day, my eyes had become irritated. It was so bad that I had to take off my contact lenses. With no solution at hand, both lenses were disposed of. This however created a problem of getting my car from my hostel from the bus stop when I arrived Okada. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth when I think of what would have happened if Engr. Paul's car had not swerved fast enough. Again I digress. 

Putting on my makeup was a tad frustrating, getting out of my room was the tricky part. Wearing contact lenses in one eye meant that I had perfect vision in one eye while the other was -7 myopia. The translation is that everything I looked at was double including the door I walked into as I tried to get out of my room. The elevator had two doors on each side except they seemed to close and open at the same time so I decided to use the stairs but that presented an even worse challenge. I didn't relish the idea of falling to my death on the steep wooden stairs so I went back to the elevators, deciding to take my chances. When I blinked, I realised my vision was clearer with the contactless eye closed. I decided that was the only way to manage the situation if I was to get back in one piece.

The sleepy eyed receptionist was oblivious to my situation as I handed over the room keys at the reception, so were my colleagues from Fiji who were sharing the cab with me to the airport. They bade me good bye as we arrived the terminal building rushing off to catch their plane which was to leave earlier than mine. Feeling suddenly alone and dejected, I dragged my roller luggage into the terminal building. By now, my head hurt from keep one eye shut... I barely made it through check-in with the KLM officer peering at me for minutes as if trying to ascertain if it was indeed me in the passport. It must have been my one eye looking hazel and the other looking brown as opened both eyes to look at her hoping to convince her that indeed it was me in the passport. "I like your eyes" she mocked. "Ode" I muttered though I couldn't care less, I had collected my passport and boarding pass. "You can get it at spec savers" I mocked her right back smarting as I started to make my way to security check.

To be continued...

WORKAHOLIC PALAVA

There, I was rushing off to work....as usual a bit late. it was 7:35am on the 1st of July 2013 and my new month resolution was to always be on time. Applying lipstick as I looked through the rear view mirror, I knew it will be tough to beat the early morning traffic.

I woke up as usual at 6:30am, said my morning prayers and dozed for another 10 minutes before dragging myself off to the bathroom to perform my daily hygienic duties flipping on and off switches as I walked across the room. Thinking in my mind "God give me the luxury to one day be able to get out of bed at late afternoon on a working day" I rushed through my bath, clothing, hair and make up, grabbed a Muller corner yoghurt (my latest addiction) from the refrigerator, and my handbag on my way out the door. I looked back trying to remember if I left on any electric gadget.

Mondays are usually busy days and its best to start out early if I were to leave before 5:00pm.  I had three meetings lined up, and I was meeting some publishers at lunch time. Driving out, I decided to take a shortcut in order to avoid the traffic that I am sure must have built up. Taking a sharp turn into a dirt road that leads to a shortcut,  I nearly hit a stray dog."Gerraout of the way" I yelled, as if the dog could hear me though my wound up car windows. It merely took a step away from the looming car Tyre turn to look as me with big sad eyes as if accusingly, then limped away ever slowly, flies trailing in its wake, oblivious to my temperament.

I almost hit the car roof as the car dipped into a porthole. "Jesus take the wheel..." My muttering turned to surprise as I hit Teshie expressway and saw that there were no cars on the road save a few "tro-tro" (danfo/commercial buses).  The road was free! I realised it was the first time I had seen the road without a traffic jam since I relocated to East Legon in January. Singing along to Enya's "May it be" in my best imitation opera voice i felt like I had won the lottery. A trip that usually took anywhere between 30 minutes to one hour took a mere 12 minutes, and there I was at the office gate.

I realised something was amiss, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Driving down the road to my office the streets had seemed a bit deserted but I don't mind. That's how I like it, no crowds. I could hear the birds singing as usual, so it was not dead silent. I had made sure to wear my name tag before leaving home so that wasn't the problem. I looked at my feet to make sure I had not left the house in my bathroom slippers as I once did, I had on my favourite 'knock about pumps' so that wasn't the problem either. Unusually, there were no cars parked around the perimeters of the building. I looked at my watch it was almost a quarter to eight so I couldn't possibly be the first to arrive work. That will be the day! I looked up to see all three security guards looking at me strangely.

That's when I remembered that it was a public holiday.