The Story Begins... DECEMBER 10, 2005

 

“Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the  furnace of affliction.

For mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it: for how should my name be polluted? and

I will not give my glory unto another.”

Isaiah 48: 10 & 11(KJV)

There was no feeling of foreboding that morning. Nothing went wrong to signal the beginning of a lousy day. For my household, it started as a perfectly ordinary Saturday. The only difference was that Kechi was coming home from school for Christmas holidays. This was always a cause for joy in our house. The house came alive, became vibrant and noisy, when Kechi came home.

I woke a bit late and as usual, took my bible to the sitting room for my morning devotions. My husband, Mike, and I were in different places spiritually and he still could not understand why I felt the need to pray so much, so I usually just took myself off to the sitting room to pray. On that morning, I prayed as I did every time Kechi was coming home; for journey mercies for all in the aircraft. I was later to wonder if, had I devoted more time to that particular prayer, things could have turned out differently.

The flight was supposed to be on ground at about 11.00am. Chigozie, my husband's driver, and I left Aba around 9.00am to give plenty of time for the police checks on the road between Aba and Port Harcourt. Sure enough, a few miles down the road leading to the airport, inside Port Harcourt, we fell victim to a police roadblock and made their day when it turned out that Chigozie did not have his driving license. It cost me =N=3000.00.

We finally made it to the airport on time. I rushed to the arrival gate, thinking that the plane had landed, only to be told by some other parents that there was Environmental Sanitation in Abuja and since the kids could not be at the airport before 7.00am, when the exercise began, they would now come home with the 1.00pm flight.

This was disappointing but I decided to use the time to drive into town and buy chocolates and other goodies for Kechi, our usual practice whenever she came home.

When I got back to the airport at about 2.00pm, the plane was said to be 10 minutes from landing. This was when I got my first feeling of unease. It came from nowhere. I called my sister in Lagos whose son, Ugochukwu was also in Loyola Jesuit College, Kechi's school, and asked if he was home yet. She said yes, though she had not seen him as she was still in Lagos Business School, where she was studying for her MBA. He had been met and taken home from the airport. She asked if Kechi had come home and I said I was at the airport waiting for the plane to land. By this time the weather had changed and I told her I would call her back.

At about 2.15pm, the storm started. The winds were crazy, lightening flashed, the rain was fierce. It lasted about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, there was no news of the plane that was to have been on the ground by then. I had disquiet in my spirit and I moved close to some of the parents intending to ask them for us to pray but I overhead them saying to each other that they had prayed extensively and that the kids were going to be okay. I moved to one side and began to pray. My main concern was for the pilot not to attempt to land in that weather.

Suddenly, there was a lot of activity, cars driving very fast to and from the tarmac, general pandemonium. Some parents enquired, and were told that a helicopter had crashed on the tarmac. With the benefit of hindsight, one can only think of the chances of a helicopter crash at the same time a plane was supposed to land. But frankly, the very idea of what happened next could never have been contemplated by anyone.

A private car raced by and I could see that there was someone lying on the back seat. In fact, the person was tall and the door could not be closed fully. Several more cars sped by and then ambulances followed.

At about the same time, the officials at the airport had closed and locked the arrival doors and were not answering any questions. Then suddenly, one man rushed to the front of the arrival gate where most of the parents were now asking questions about the flight.

I will see that man's face and the expression on it for the rest of my life.

His eyes were opened wide to their fullest extent. His hands were crossed in front of him, left hand in right armpit, and right hand in left armpit. His mouth was squeezed shut, lips pulled into

his mouth. He was clearly horrified!

And I knew!

In my heart I knew at once that a helicopter had not crashed. It was SosolisoFlight 1145 that was carrying our children that had crashed. 

To be continued...