Last updated on September 1st, 2024 at 01:44 am
I nestled into the bed and let my body absorb the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof. The cool night was a welcome reprieve after the scorching days. I wish every night could be like tonight. My eyes flicked open into the dark. I rolled over to get my phone. It was nearly three a.m., just a few hours until the much-anticipated weekend.
Unexpected Weekend
On a weekday, I would have lulled myself back to sleep because I had around two hours to prepare to leave the house for work. A weekday was not a time I could afford to oversleep. My day starts at 5:30 a.m. at the office, but work begins at 8 a.m. Today I was too rich to oversleep. It was the beginning of the weekend. At 8 a.m., I would accompany my chess students to their first tournament.
The cold dawn prompted my hypothermic body to visit the washroom. But I also had to let my deepest yearning for my closest buddy be known. It had been over two years since she left for Qatar, her second home. I picked up my phone, scrolled to her name on WhatsApp, and sent her, ‘I miss you very much ♥’. Time check: 3 a.m.—six hours until the start of the chess tournament. I groggily lowered my legs off the bed, feeling for my slippers, and shuffled out of my room.
Telltale leak
My final stride to the washroom was cut short by a cold, gooey tap on my right shoulder. Another chilly tap on my pate, followed by a cold droplet glazing the sides of my right arm. This couldn’t be happening here. I switched on the lights to confirm my bewilderment. There it was—a roof leak. Rain had slowly slinked over and frayed the edge of one of the square wooden boards that covered the roof’s base throughout the years. We fixed this years ago! I posed my way around, ready to get smacked by the seeping rain.
Gauging the roof with my eyes, I grabbed a rag and spread it on the ground. For the remaining leaky areas, I required two more rags. I spread them out. If the rain continued unabated, the rags would soon be completely drenched.
After peeing in the toilet bowl, I trudged back to my room to resume sleep. I tightened up as soon as my body hit the bed, as if I didn’t want to let go of the wonderful cold. I had no choice but to embrace the stinging cold. It takes an umbrella these days to get shade from the burning sky. As I gently snickered at the prospect of going through the day with the sun not having the chance to cook my skin, I pondered if I could make it to the chess tournament in the unrelenting rain.
Come here! The Wall is down
“Come here!” “Come here!” That was undoubtedly Mom’s voice. I sprang out of bed, sensing the distress in her voice. Was this what I was thinking? She sounded like she was in tears! An avalanche of foreboding poured over me. Were there thieves in the house? Was she fighting for her life? “Come here!” Come here! The water is coming! The water is coming! “The water has brought down the wall!”
Which wall? The walls within the house? Was she trapped under a wall? As soon as I barged out of my room, I saw my mother hurriedly coming out of the kitchen, bucket in hand, yelling, “Come here! Come here! The water is coming! The water is coming! “The water has brought down the wall!”
The Reality
That dawn, it dawned on me that the final moments of my life may be near. Right in my own home, with my family. As the floodwaters continued to rise minute by minute, it would be a melancholic death to pass away as a family. My mother’s disturbed voice had already led us to despair. My sisters raced back into the room to clear any objects from the floor to the bed. The flood came bursting from the kitchen into the rooms. The brown hue of the flood insinuated the wall my mother was talking about. The water poured in from beyond the estate, where the road was untarred.
More Threats
Mom kept wailing her song melodically. Staring at the brown deluge scending around my feet, my feelings dimmed for a minute at the prospect of my house getting submerged if the rain continued unabated. I glanced around for electric outlets. My engineering instinct kicked in! The lights were turned on, and the refrigerator was running. Hell no! Water and electricity couldn’t be partners subsequently. I had to sever all ties. I raced to turn off the refrigerator and freezer. I located the house’s mains and switched it off as my mother, father, and sisters grabbed buckets to scoop away the brown water that was constantly pouring in from the kitchen.
Water and Electricity
Mom kept wailing her song melodically. Staring at the brown deluge scending around my feet, my feelings dimmed for a minute at the prospect of my house getting submerged if the rain continued unabated. I glanced around for electric outlets. My engineering instinct kicked in! The lights were turned on, and the refrigerator was running. Hell no! Water and electricity couldn’t be partners subsequently. I had to sever all ties. I raced to turn off the refrigerator and freezer. I located the house’s mains and switched it off as my mother, father, and sisters grabbed buckets to scoop away the brown water that was constantly pouring in from the kitchen.
A hint of disappointment arose in Mom’s voice. “Kofi, why have you turned off the lights? We need it.”
‘Not now, Maa. It is risky. Let us wait till the floods subside.’ I retorted. Confident that electrocution was no longer a cause for alarm, I considered the original threat. How do we stave off the flood gates? For the first time that morning, I went to the kitchen door and looked out into our backyard to see how the flood made its way into the house.
The Fallen Tree
I opened the kitchen door and gripped the trap door, where the net mesh met the panel. The chilly wind drifted and smacked me in the face through the net. I gently pushed the trapdoor. The door barely opened, but just enough for me to stick my head out. I found the culprit. The lime tree in our backyard had fallen right at the kitchen exit, with its crown obscuring the door’s path. My gaze lingered on the once-upright lime tree, sparkling with rain. I shoved the crown of the lime tree with the trap door to see whether it would shift out of the way. It did not. If I also pushed too hard on the light trap door, it would break apart.
Wall Down
I had switched off the lights in the house, so why was I still seeing the greens of the leaves? I lifted my head towards the intense amber colour that glowed far away from me on the light pole, brighter than any of the lights in my house. The view of this dominant light source should have been blocked by the estate walls that traversed our backyard. I could see buildings in the distance outside the estate. The horror was sudden and unsettling. The estate’s walls had collapsed due to floods built up behind them outside the estate. Half of the stretch was completely down. The wall had disintegrated into its building blocks. My heart plummeted to my feet. I secured my footing like the once-erect lime tree. I established my foothold like the once-standing lime tree. The rain continued to fall as if they were celebrating their freedom from being confined for aeons.
In The Compound
Water sloshed around the fallen lime tree, pouring hungrily into the kitchen. Sounds of drumming filled the air. The pitter-patter on our roof, which had been melodious to my ears just a few minutes before, was now drowned out by the thunderous downpour that was collecting in the compound like an estuary.
I made an egress out of the kitchen back to the spot where I first discovered the leakage. The floor tiling was covered with brown water. We grabbed buckets to scoop the floodwater away from the bedrooms. I stepped in the flood’s course which was advancing towards the bedrooms, dipped the bucket’s rim into the water, and hauled it towards the hall, where it would make its way into the compound. After three scoops, I discovered I had just examined the situation in the backyard and not the front of the house. I plodded across the dining room and the hallway.
Literal Floodgates
My youngest sister had folded the soaked carpet to one side of the hall. Mom was still scooping water out of the hall. When I opened the door, our compound was nowhere in sight—neither the porch nor the garden abutting the porch. Right ahead in the distance, I could make out the white metal double leaf gate – the only entrance into our compound. The height of the flood reached the middle railing of the gate, the only solid surface pushing against the flood.
…To be continued in Part 2
What’s next in Peter’s Box? ¡Hasta luego amigos!
