December 10, 2005: My Dad's Angle...

Mom called and told me to be strong. She said that God had given us sixteen beautiful years with Kechi and we would always be grateful to Him. She assured me that she and my brother, Chinedu, would leave Lagos that night for Port Harcourt to be with me. I heard her but I was not fooled. I knew my Mom was trying to sound strong for me. Kechi occupied a special place in their hearts because she was their first grandchild.

Dad called me and asked me if there were any survivors. I had actually heard two guys talking on that fateful walk from the tarmac and they were saying that some people were alive and had been rushed to hospitals. One of the men said that there was one particular woman he hoped would survive. I asked him what the woman looked like and he said she was big but could not go into detail. I did not dare to even go there. I mean, what were the odds?

I told Dad what I had overheard and that they said the survivors were adults. My Dad said to me that Kechi could be mistaken for an adult. He then went on to state very clearly,

“If there are any survivors in that plane, then Kechi is one of them”.

I thought to myself that my Dad was in denial and this was the way he could handle the trauma. I was quite worried about him and Mom and asked him how Mom was doing. He confirmed my fears. Mom was totally gone. He was worried about how she was taking the news.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the strangest call I have ever received. An urgent pleading call from Ijeoma urging, 'Daddy! Daddy! Daddy, pray, pray, pray!’

I asked her, Pray for what? What's the matter?’

She said, 'Oh Daddy, please pray, there is a plane crash and Kechi is on that flight!'

'How do you know she was on that flight?’

'Daddy I am sure, I spoke to her in the plane before they took off'

'Okay Ije calm down, there must be survivors, and if only one person survives, that one person will be Kechi'.

'Oh Daddy, it is a terrible sight, Kechi is gone'.

'Impossible ' I thundered, 'Kechi cannot die' Are there no survivors at all?

Ije responded in a broken tone, 'Yes Daddy, they said they carried out three women to a hospital'.

'Then one of those women is Kechi', I hollered.

But Ije replied, 'Daddy they said three women, not girls!’

'Kechi is a big girl and can be mistaken for a woman. She is one of the three,' I insisted. 

Meanwhile hell was let loose in my house. Uncontrollable weeping and lamentation rent the air. Family members were rolling themselves on the floor crying like little babies! My telling them that all hope was not lost fell on deaf and hopeless ears. I left the wailing crowd in the living room and went to my bedroom upstairs to pray.

Then Ijeoma called again. This time excitedly with the news 'Kechi is alive!!' The expression of joy that rent the air was only comparable to the wailing that preceded it. Wow! That joy was palpable. What was hidden from the joy-drenched family was that this was the beginning of a long repair and healing process.

But we give all the glory to God.

…….Account of that day by my Dad, Chris Duru...

To be continued...

December 10, 2005: Kechi Was Gone...

I got to the airport building near the departure lounge where most of the parents were gathered. At this point we had all passed from the state of disbelief and shock to thinking, “It's really true, our kids are gone”. We held on to each other. Men were weeping like children. I noticed one particular woman who was talking to the rest of the parents, even as tears were pouring out of her eyes. She was telling us not to mourn like unbelievers and to believe that our children have gone to heaven. I was later to learn that her name was Mary, and two of her children had been inside that aircraft. 

From Mary, I found the courage to try and console some kids that were among us, siblings of the kids on the aircraft, who had come with their parents to the airport to welcome their sisters and brothers. The poor kids were crying, bewildered, wondering if it was true that their siblings were gone. Mostly, the sight of their parents weeping with abandon was probably the most frightening thing they had ever seen in their young lives.

Another woman was kneeling on the ground, wailing into her phone, “Yes, it's true. My angels are gone. Three of them are gone.” A man, who I later identified as her husband was sitting on the ground, weeping. They had three children in Loyola Jesuit College. All three kids had been in that plane.

It was at this point that I remembered to call Uzoma, my friend, who was taking care of Chizitara for me that day. The plan had been for Tara to go to a birthday party with Uzoma's daughter, Kamara, and then when Kechi and I got to Aba, we would pick her up on our way home. I called Uzo and said to her that she would have to keep Tara for some days. I told her I was still at the airport and there had been a plane crash and Kechi was gone.

“Gone where?” Uzo asked me, sounding puzzled.

“Gone to heaven”, I replied “The plane crashed”. When she started to scream, I switched off my phone, knowing she would call back when she calmed down and also knowing that Tara was safe with Uzo, and I did not need to worry about her just then...

To be continued...

December 10, 2005: My Heart Had Gone Beyond Breaking...

I tried and failed to think of my world without Kechi. I did not even think of being upset with God because He is my everything. I turned to Him now and started to speak.

“Okay, Lord. My baby is gone. But you know what? You are still God. You are still sovereign. I still love You. Thank You for sixteen wonderful years with her. But promise me one thing. That I will be with Kechi again one day.”

Then I wanted to die right then so I could be with Kechi again, but then I remembered Chizitara, my miracle daughter, so called because I had her eleven years after Kechi, when I had given up hope of having another child. “So, okay, Lord, this is why You gave me Chizitara, so I won't be left without a child. I thank You.”

Then, knowing the strength of Kechi's love for me, I knew that she would not be happy, even in heaven, if she thought I would be inconsolable. I looked up to the sky and said, “Kechi, it's okay, baby. Go with Jesus. Mommy will be fine, I promise you. Sweetheart, you know we will be together again one day. I promise you right now that I will live the rest of my life in such a way that when the end comes, I will be in heaven with you. Go on, love. I love you”. Then I started to sing,

“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow

Because He lives, all fear is gone

Because I know He holds my future

My life is worth a-living

Just because He lives”

As I was singing, I was walking back to the airport building. I passed  many  parents  expressing  their  sorrow  and  grief  in different ways. The two memories that still stick out in my mind during that walk from the tarmac to the airport building were of two women. One was just rolling on the ground, first one way, and then the other way, screaming and crying and calling her child's name. Another woman was screaming at her husband, “Where is my son? Go and get my son for me. I told you that he should take the bus back but you said he should fly with his schoolmates. Oya, where is he? Where is my son?” The poor, confused man, tears streaming from his eyes, was trying to hold her but she beat him off, slapping him, out of her mind with pain.

At this point, I still had not shed a single tear. Some part of me knew this was unusual and unnatural so I called Chigozie, who had stuck beside me during my race to the tarmac, and told him that he should stay nearby because I feared that I was not myself. When I wondered about my lack of tears, I felt that I was waiting for Mike to come before I could collapse.

To be continued...