Adebimpe was who you called the power woman. Her strides were fearful, and when her lips parted in speech, an aura of fearlessness and wisdom eased through them. She was the type to command attention when she walked into a room. Women whispered and men whistled at the clanking of her stilettos and the gliding of her sneakers, but life, however, had not been the best for Bimpe. She smiled when she hurt, and the worst was that she did not know where the hurt stemmed from.
“Today, I watched the news” she told her friend.
Nonso shifted his hat. He placed his left hand on them for a little longer than expected. Then he put the hat on Bimpe’s center table. “I don’t watch the news”, he smirked.
“Yes, but today I watched the news and everyone’s dying.”
“What do you mean everyone is dy-ing?” Nonso stressed the gerund at the end of his sentence, to project his thoughts that Bimpe was definitely uttering nonsense.
“I am serious, Nonso. A plane crash here, a murder there…everyone is really dying.”
“What’s your plan?”
Adebimpe was quiet, but her eyes held infinite words. She rose and paced the room – two steps, three, four, and an abrupt stop. Her hands went up in frustration and came crashing down to her thighs almost immediately. They went up again, this time to her chest. She stole a look at Nonso who seemed engrossed in a theatrical performance just by looking at her.
“What’s the point of all this? Why are we striving and fighting to make it if we are all gonna die someday?” Before her friend could answer, she screamed, “I don’t have a plan, Nonso, I have questions…questions! DO YOU HAVE A PLAN?”
Nonso rose, and you could not tell if he was reenacting Bimpe’s performance or if it was mere coincidence. He paced the living room too – two steps, three, four, and an abrupt stop. Instead of throwing his hands up in frustration, he almost knocked over the ottoman at the end of the room.
“The plan is to die empty.”
She gave him a quizzical look. He ignored her and continued, “What would be the point of dying with all of my potentials?”
“But we will not all be popular”
“Yes, but we can all be impactful. We can all fulfill purpose. We can all be kind, and popularity is not a stakeholder in the purpose business. It’s a byproduct – usually dispensable”
Bimpe took a seat. She gave her posture free rein, so her legs slid off the couch and her hands rested on her knees. “So, that’s your plan?”
“Yes. Carpe Diem.“
With Overflowing Love,