My dear Ijeoma, I see you now. Sitting in God’s lap and whispering all the things you would like God to sort out for you. You will mention your family, your Nwamaka, your Bernadine and all your other friends and God will say you make a good arbiter for all the cases. And he will grant you your wishes. You were one of a kind. Always so passionate and sometimes misunderstood and I am sure all your friends will have memories of the huge fall outs and then the making up with increased understanding. You seemed to have an inner eye. I remember when I had my daughter and all my friends came around to see us at home. Everyone was in our room and you looked and asked if I was tired and then told everyone to clear off and leave me alone to rest. (Just in case it was not you who said this, it feels like if it was you!) You were a constant, always there in the background or foreground depending on the occasion and where you were needed the most. I can’t even remember when we met but I remember you were there for the good times and the bad times. I remember your friendship with Bernie. Whenever you were around and I called Bernie, it was always “Ijeoma and I are....” When we heard about the crash and you could not be contacted, we came up with many stories. We said you were not really on the plane because you were somehow locked in a toilet in the airport and missed the flight. We even said you were kidnapped and that your phone was stolen and were expecting a ransom call. I must admit to secretly hoping. Still. Then we got angry, questioning why you were even on the plane, wondering why you did not have a meeting in Abuja on Monday, wondering why you did not exhibit African time and miss the flight, and on and on. Still, I wonder. My heart aches for the unfinished story but I know that with God, your story was complete. Even though it is hard to accept and understand... So where are we now? We are supposed to accept and nod sagely and say we understand and that it was God’s will. I don’t. I am currently in a state of flux with hope and despair and a total lack of understanding of God’s plans. But still... I am sitting here and the deep despair has cut off rational thought. They say the good die young. Who said so really and what is the reasoning behind this? Is it alright to say I am angry at the moment? I am sure it will pass but the tunnel seems so long and the light seems so faint and far away. So many questions, so many unfinished pages. So long, old friend. Okay, I will change that before you tell me off. So long, “not so old” friend xx