Chidi looked really pleased to see me. I went up to his room with him. He asked me to keep the door open when I tried to shut it.
“Why?” I asked.
“I don’t trust myself to be alone with you.”
“I won’t try anything,” I said.
“It’s just safer this way, that’s all.”
His room wasn’t anything like I’d expected. Though there were things in it—it didn’t look lived in. There was a bed which hadn’t been made, his desk had a laptop, a desk lamp and a printer. Directly opposite the bed was a flat screen TV which was connected to a Play Station console. His clothes were still in his suitcase. He hadn’t unpacked. The wardrobes were empty. There were no pictures on the wall or personal effects. I knew he’d said he was staying in Ghana for two months but I found it strange that he hadn’t unpacked at all.
He switched on the TV. It was tuned in to a National Geographic special.
“So that’s where all your animal facts came from.”
He smiled and turned on his laptop. “Come here, I want to show you something.”
There must have been a hundred different folders in his Pictures folder. He scrolled down to a dated entry—the morning we’d gone to the zoo together. His pictures were remarkable and I saw what he meant when he said he wanted the viewer to wonder what the baby elephant had been thinking. Plus you didn’t even see the chain links of the fence.
“You’re really good,” I said.
“It’s the camera.”
“No, it’s not. These are amazing. And I just complimented you so be gracious enough to receive it.”
“Thanks,” he said and kissed my cheek. “So have you shot your perfect picture yet?”
“Uh huh. I have. But the thing is I didn’t take it and it wasn’t of an animal,” he said closing the zoo folder. “Well technically, it’s of a higher animal.”
He opened another folder. In it were pictures of the wedding we’d crashed. He scrolled down until he came to a picture of me. I might have been laughing at something the M.C. said but I didn’t recall what it was. But you could see the happiness reflected in my eyes and it just made you wonder what it was, what it could have been that had set me off. I could see for myself what Dad meant whenever he said my eyes were smiling.
“Sarfoa took that,” he said, “everything about the shot is perfect, the angle, the light, the exposure, your expression.”
“It does look nice,” I admitted.
“It’s more than nice, it’s perfect, it’s . . .” he began saying but his dad called him downstairs. I scrolled through the rest of the pictures.
He came up and poked his head through the door. “I have to get some Onga cubes for my dad. It’s the only seasoning he uses. I’ll be back in five minutes tops.”
I went through some of the other picture folders in the file. I found the one with pictures he’d taken at Kakum. I was still looking through the pictures when Chidi’s phone rang. I left it.
About two minutes later it rang again.
He’d left it on his bedside table, I was reaching for it when a book fell off the table. I took the phone. The caller was Dr Ekem, his Dad’s friend we had gone to see on Saturday. The phone stopped ringing and I put it back on the table and picked up the book. It was a 2013 diary. I started laughing. I didn’t know any boy who kept a diary. I started flipping through but it didn’t have daily entries. Not that I would have read everything but I was curious to know if he’d written anything under the day we first kissed. I was sorely disappointed. Chidi’s diary was more of an appointment book than a diary. I was about to put it back when it fell open to a page.
He’d copied a poem. I read it.
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we still are
Call me by old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way
Which you always used
Put no difference in your time
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we enjoyed together
Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word
That it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the trace of shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is unbroken continuity
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight
I am waiting for you
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well
Henry Scott Holland
I knew he liked novels, I hadn’t known he liked poetry as well. The poem was comforting but it was a bit unsettling. Of all the poems to like why one about death? Or had he copied it for me because of Ntiriwa? That would be so like Chidi. He was so thoughtful. It was one of the things I liked about him. I turned the page looking for another poem but instead I found a list. A Wish List. I laughed. The pot had called the kettle black. I laughed again and read through the list.
WISH LIST
I wish to:
- Grow an afro
- Drive a flashy car
- Write WASSCE
I thought that was a very vague goal to have. A proper goal would be to have all A’s or 5 A’s and 3 B’s or something. It wasn’t writing WASSCE that mattered. It was how you passed it. - Kenya—safari
- Egypt—pyramids
- Sing at church
I wondered what was stopping him. All he had to do was tell the music director and they’d give him a slot. - Take a perfect picture
- Ghana—Ejisu, paraglide, Kakum, Mt. Afadjato
- Live each day like it was my last, eat what I want, have no regrets, be nice to people
- Kiss a girl