There Is Need

I had braved the July chillness and travelled to Dedza from Lilongwe to see my uncle Kabudula who had been admitted at the district hospital following a bicycle accident he had the previous day. I had left my home in Area 24 at exactly 6 AM with an objective of reaching the hospital during the morning visiting period – an objective I never accomplished.

The engine of my old ramshackle Nissan Sentra unexpectedly just after I had crossed Diamphwi River stopped running. I did everything I knew to get it started again but after close to an hour of endless toiling, I still had not fixed the problem. My hands were oily, dirty and hurting and I was at the end of my wits. As I contemplated on calling my mechanic, absently I turned the key in the ignition and to my surprise the engine roared into life. I heaved a sigh, engaged gear and started off again.

At Chimbiya, I was in trouble again; this time with speed trap officers and I was charged K5000. I spent half an hour begging for leniency to a potbellied officer with a bloated face who kept telling me repeatedly in an impassive tone that I had to settle the fine. When reality hit me in the face that he would not bulge even if I pleaded until I was blue in the face, I sadly parted with the K5000 which was part of the money I had taken with me to give to my uncle.

It was until 10:45 AM that I reached the hospital a very tired person. I explained my predicament to a finely honed gorgeous looking nurse as to why I had delayed. She looked understanding, nodding her head in compassion at every word I uttered. But when I had finished, I was taken aback when she told me sadly that I could not be allowed in until the midday visiting period.

When I finally entered the ward, Kabudula’s sight immediately stirred sympathy in me. Part of his head had been swathed in bandages. Both his arms and left leg were in a plaster of Paris and hanging in the air. He was a figure in great pain. He forced a smile when he saw me.

“I’m glad to see you, son,” he said with a labored smile. He talked for sometime about the accident and just as I mulled over telling him to stop talking and have a rest, he asked me something which I did not anticipate he could do at the time. It was to do with Maggie, the girl I had been dating for a while.

“Ah, well…well…we partied ways,” I explained uncomfortably and added quickly: “Uncle, Maggie tended to give a lot of weight to opinions of her chronically single and bitter friends and I couldn’t live with that.”

“Oh, really?” he asked and took a long deep breath, shook his head in resignation and fired another question while signaling his wife to assist him drink some water. “What was the reason behind you leaving Grace? The one you dated before Maggie?”

“Well uncle, Grace felt I could not achieve anything I set out to do,” I explained and added: “Uncle, but I think this isn’t an appropriate place to discuss this subject.” Several patients and guardians had already started looking at us and I felt ashamed for him to be discussing that in a hospital.

Kabudula dismissed my observation with an annoyed glance and reminded me viciously ignoring whatever pain he might have been feeling: “The reason you left Christina was because prior to being in a relationship with you she had gone out with a truck driver.”

I nodded yes uneasily and he scoffed.

“Son, you’ve got a damn big problem,” he whined angrily and added bluntly: “I think you need to go to heaven and marry the angel you want. You’ve dated over ten girls and you want to tell me that you haven’t had your pick.” he rattled with a soupcon of derision in his voice.

“What is most annoying is that you’ve reasons to justify each termination,” he said, “There is no perfect person in this world, son. In this life kid, there are other things you just need to compromise. You don’t have to be that strict.”

I kept quiet as what he was saying began making sense to me. Perhaps I needed to separate fantasy from reality. I began imagining how insecure the world would have been if we were constantly surrounded by people who looked perfect, acted perfect, and never made mistakes. It would be difficult to say the least. Perhaps, he was right. I needed to compromise in some areas.