Around 8:00 p.m. yesterday (Monday), I was attending to some late-night work when I suddenly thought of someone I last spoke to in October last year. The thought hit me so hard. Ever since we stopped talking, her thoughts have been coming to me, but I’ve been ignoring the urge to reach out because of a promise I made that I haven’t fulfilled. But yesterday, I decided to swallow my pride and shame and message her—at least to check up on her—because I couldn’t really explain the reason for the sudden urge.
I did. I dropped a lengthy voice note, pleading and trying to justify my reasons for not being able to meet up with the promise I made. I clearly stated that it was possible she was angry, even if she wouldn't say so. After some minutes, I got a reply, and she clearly stated that she wasn’t angry that I didn’t fulfill the promise. Well, maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. But the truth is, in one way or another, she must have felt the space I gave after I was unable to fulfill the promise. This is someone I used to communicate with at least twice a month. Yet we saw ourselves stay many months without reaching out.
What was the promise? It was a simple one. She asked me to send her any amount of money at all because things were tough for her and her family. Yes, she’s married, and that was her first time asking me for money. So, it’s not like she’s one of those regular friends who ask for money frequently. For her to open up like that, she must have thought it through a lot. I asked for her account number and promised to give her any amount of money, but at that moment, there was no single money in my account. So, I promised her that I would send something immediately I had any money in my wallet, and we ended our conversation with hope at both ends.
Honestly, that period was too rough for me—it was as if the gods of poverty decided to give me a “view once” feel of hardship. The thought of the promise was on my mind all through that period, and when money finally entered my hand, there were piled-up bills to settle already. I had to weigh them and attend to the most important ones at that moment. Unfortunately, the promise I made to her was not part of the dying needs at that moment considering the amount of money I had.
When everything calmed down a bit, the promise duration had already gone very far. At that point, I concluded that she must have found a way to sort herself out too, and it was possible that things were already fine with her. Meanwhile, there was money, but not enough to give out.
So, that was it—until yesterday when I decided to beg for forgiveness and finally asked after her and the family. I still owe her, though—that’s justifiable!
When someone broke a promise to me: This used to happen very often back then when I easily asked for help anytime I was in need—unlike now, when I try to swallow the bitter pills myself. The one I choose to talk about in this article is a different one entirely.
I was to attend a wedding, and I was among the groomsmen. I needed a totally different dress for it as I didn’t have the required colour, and time was running out. I made enquiries from people and was directed to a tailor that was sure of delivering the dress within the short time frame. I begged the tailor and almost knelt down to plead with him to deliver before the wedding day, and the tailor promised me. The man that directed me to him also gave me assurance on his behalf. I paid in full and was sending him a reminder text every morning.
To cut the story short, I had to go and borrow another dress to attend the wedding because the tailor came up with a ‘genuine’ excuse—his wife was sick and admitted to the hospital. Omo! I couldn’t do anything.
Thanks for reading.
This is my entry to Week 172, Edition 01 of the Weekly Featured contest in Hive Learners Community
Image used it mine
