Compliments I gave in my early thirties
My dear Samira,
It has been long since I had any meaningful conversation with you. The last time I remember was on the roads that connected your North Legon Residence after a bottle of water at KFC. I can't remember the exact date though. But it is quite refreshing to know that our nerve-racking conversations never got emptied in the shelves. I guess you may be smiling through a pack of books on your table or a multiple opened tabs on your Google Chrome as you read this.
Anyways, information has never been this mixed-up coming from me, at least while taping the nipple or the navel; it has always been same sensation. All you need is a laser of mind as sharp as a blade to bisect this thread. Unfortunately, I've tried to reach you through a call for several month, last year without a success. So, permit me to use this medium to express what has been hiding in the bosom of the Good Lord and myself for sometime now; the intercourse of the known and the unknown.
My dear Samira, I hope you remember my favorite statement; history is often shaped by exaggerated hopes. Indeed, exaggerated hopes sharpened history of our being, living and death. Let me not bore you with a whole lot of anecdotes. You know I've always hold you in high esteem. Over the last few months, my morale, enthusiasm has reached the lowest of the low even to the extent that I've engaged in things that you wouldn't have approved. I think I've fallen into one of the lowest moments of my very existence; lowest of the low.
Let me fill you in. What's true of grand social revolutions is equally true at the micro level of our everyday life. Comradeship, friendship, relationship and all other ...."ships" should depict this grand changes. However, character they say, can't be changed but can at least be amended. But why am I writing so many things to you at this very point of our existence? Life in itself graduates in stages and every stage has it own exigencies. How I wish I could put it into episodes but time and space......so grab a cup of chilled water as you read through.
It starts with the obvious fact that I must live my life with both friends and strangers; strangers to friends; and friends to strangers. I must live in each realms at a given time; the known and the unknown. I was deeply rooted in one of these very metamorphosis when a friend called to enquire about you. Someone we all know. This brought back your matter deep into the realm once again. I have no option than to reach out in this moment of deep seated imbalances.
My dear Samira, let me be quick to bring to your notice that the rise of humanism also contains the very seeds of its downfall; the attempt to upgrade humans into demigods takes humanism to its logical conclusion. It simultaneously exposes humanism's inherent flaws. When you start with a flawed ideal, you often appreciate its defects only when the ideal is close to its realization.
And like I told all other ladies I encounter quite recently--after I've met you, to not create any idea of a future togetherness because I have the feeling or at best a personal mental impression that I owe a "whole" lot to you in terms of commitment. We all have our deep seated secrets, yet to be expressed. At least how my name often pops up whenever Samira is involved. A yet to be cleared history.
I know it is not emanating from any where specifically of known, or a predisposition or clearly expressed notion, but I also feel I've created that impression within my circle(s); including your very self. If we do not express it, or own it and control it doesn't mean it never occurred in the fancy of thought. Nonetheless, this is clearly an orchestration of man, well and meaningfully intended so as to not create any needless obstacle.
My dear Samira, I have finally listened to my body and this is what it has to say. Timidity is a treacherous trait, it prevents all faucet of individual development. However, confidence is good. A great trait. As for over confidence, it is as good as treacherous. And you know I've always been a man who never want to be under the sun--limelight (though all activities directly put me under it).
I could remember the day we sat under the summer benches inside Mensah Sarbah Hall, your first MPhil year, and in my course of encouraging you to go all out for what you truly believe and aspire in, I gave you unalloyed, unconditional assurance and unlimited pool of affection that little to no one has ever enjoyed from; at most they tap into one. Remember the day we observed a magrib prayer together at your North Legon Hostel? It was one of the special moments I carry with me always.
Even to this minute you're reading, the results has gotten to its elastic end. I have, as a person, withdrawn into myself, behaves as though a stranger to the destiny of all others. My good friends constitute for me the whole of the human species. As for my transactions with family, I may mix among them, but sees them not; I touches kith and kin but feels them not; I exist only to myself and for myself alone. And if on these terms, there remains in my mind a sense of you and only you, then you have everything to offer, society (other ladies) hasn't.
You may be reading this message, full of flip-flops because I owed sleep so much debt. A trait of my usual self akin to you. However, I've never been so busy in my entire hasty life, trying, albeit without success, to clear a preoccupied mind for so long. Whenever I thought I was succeeding, then voilà ! Back to where it started. So, this whole lengthy note, is to clarify vis-a-vis informed you of society's unbridled same old pressure; you know I've had an incredible 'goodluck' with ladies but never quite settled on any as a choice. Yet the numbers kept increasing. And only God knows how long your "name" can be the difference.
My dear Samira, I know you may be wondering why all this information. Well! The torrent this time around is, no longer the ladies available, but how it has foisted with family concussion. You know I have a very tough mentality. Yeah, I do. Everybody knows. But the Good Books of the Good Lord says there is only one arrow of Satan that man cannot escape when it exhaust all its arsenal in luring you to its control; woman. No malice intended. I guess you know, right!
Maybe I sounded a bit sarcastic. As you read this, I've never been this horrible, never gotten this low in my life with a lady, never envision that after my third sexual encouter with a determined lady, I realised it happened out of frustration than affection; hilarious innit? Contrary, you were the one person who were stuffed in my head instead of her. I know you wouldn't have gotten that low; the very least for me to antipate in your company.
I don't know why I'm bothering you with all these information at this moment when I should be encouraging you at an unfamiliar territory. Like I said earlier, the world thrives on exaggerated hopes. In the midst of our own discomfort, our moments of stupor, that we find solace in people leaning on our shoulders. Sometimes, all we need is love, affection and comradeship. A simple "it shall be well." I need it, you need it and we all need it at certain point in our lives. We need ourselves to know ourselves better; to lessen mental burdens.
A political friend of mine, whom I had so much respect and value in once told me, "Abdul, you weren't born to solve all of humanity's problems." Her response took me aback, created a hollow in my mind for several weeks before I could process what she told me. Well!
if there is no good solution to a quandary, if none of the allegedly sensible and effective steps brings the solution any closer--people tend to behave irrationally, adding to the problem and making its resolution even less plausible. This could be nothing or it could be the beginning of the omelette. Methinks.
But we have shared so much together; the chit-chats, the nightly strolls, the bedside convo, occasionally visits, etc. Yet I guess this information will go down as one of the most valuable. Busting the coconut in midday is one of the rare things to find in an Owl's company. But trust me, I know you are special, talented, comforting, go-getter, and pragmatic. I never doubted your abilities. That's why I have often loved you unconditionally, liked you without reservation, and will continually do. I will always hold you dear.
My dear Samira, I know I have communicated. I don't wan't to turn to the Internet for answers when they are right at our feet. I want to connect, or understand, or simply appreciate something—even if it’s only truism. It maybe a fraught pursuit, I know. As the human web keeps expanding faster and faster, it’s become saturated with errors and loathsome ideas. Relationships are like Atlantic Ocean that washes up skeevy wonders from its great garbage patch. As a garbage patch (so to call), I long for a respite, a cover where my name can be inscribed, at least on the spreading sand of time.
Well! I believe in secularisation as well as you do. And the believe that secularity is the convictions we ascribed to before we die of why things are the way they are, convictions which will cease to matter once we are dead (separated by time and space). This is not one of my roven write-ups to the world. It is not a love letter either. I'm only expressing compliments I have received in my thirties. As I often say, the journey to defeat our destiny obtructs the very essence of time in the world.
I may conclude. Memories are golden, you know!! Remember the day we stood by the stairs of Francis Sey Hall after you bought Kenkey from my room to kick start this all important journey. Or the day my lady friend Jannah showed you attitude at Legon Central Mosque when we went for Irene's graduation ceremony. Even though she's married, she has still never gotten over it. Smiling!
I may not be in constant touch. I may be far away. Yet I carried you along everywhere. You are never missing in the mental archives. You should always remember whatever, wherever, whoever, and however, I uphold you in highest esteem; unalloyed affection, unconditionally loved, and unsaturated respect. You may not know, or heard or seen; now you know, heard and seen. I can sleep now on Saturday night, feeling fulfilled and relieved.
Enjoy your weekend!
My dear Samira.
By Al-Latif Kambo-Naa
(Strictly Fictional)
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