I kept calling Mike to make sure he was okay and
to monitor his journey to Port Harcourt. I felt myself coming apart and I
needed his strength. My friend, Lizzie and her husband, Jeff called me to sit
with them on a bench. I remember asking her if was possible that we were about
to bury our children. Meanwhile my phone was ringing off the hook. The news had
spread and family and friends were calling to find out if it was true and to
pray with me.
Then my phone rang one more time and a male voice
asked, “Is this Mrs. Ijeoma Okwuchi?”
“Yes”
“Do you know any Nkechi Okwuchi?”
I said yes, while thinking, what can this be
about, at this time? “She's my daughter”
“Madam, your daughter survived the plane crash.
She is at Braithwaite Memorial Hospital. Please rush there as fast as you can”.
I flew up
from the bench, screaming, “Did you say my daughter is alive?” Next thing I
knew, I fell on the ground. The man was still speaking very urgently in the
phone.
“Madam, where are you?”
“By the departure hall”, I answered.
“Please hurry directly to the front of the
departure hall. You will see some people wearing blue overalls”.
I took off running. I was aware as I ran that
other parents were running with me, praying that their kids were also among the
survivors.
My driver, pursuing me, then shouted, “Aunty, see
Oga!” Mike had just driven through the gates of the airport car park.
I called Mike, babbling, “Mike, Kechi is alive!
Kechi is alive!
Come to the front of the departure hall.”
Meanwhile, the rescue staff asked to use my phone
to inform the relatives of other survivors and I willingly gave it to them.
Mike rushed up to me and we both got into his car
and took off for the hospital. We were both shaking. I was hyperventilating. I
could not catch my breath.
I tried to call Dad but could not reach him. I
called Ulo and screamed into the phone, “Ulo, Kechi is alive. Pray. Pray.
Pray.”
There was loud screaming in the background and I
switched off. I began to pray.
To be continued...
Ulo, that was me. And that call marked the beginning of new levels of faith. On the one hand, Dad's unwavering faith proved true. Kechi was indeed one of the survivors. She was alive...
ReplyDeleteAt some point in our lives, we have that very unique experience where God reaches down in the midst of our deepest despair and utter hopelessness and wipes our tears, telling us, "It's okay, I've got you".
ReplyDeleteThat was my experience at this moment. Indescribable happiness, heart-stopping joy, deep humility at such immense grace.
I was a mess. My body could not handle it and simply shut down and I fainted. When I picked myself up, I could only marvel. Who was I to the recipient of such grace? The truth is, it was never about me, us, or Kechi. It was, and is, always about God and His purpose, His name, His glory!
Alleluia!
I will never forget that fateful day, December 10th 2005, because the memories of that day and the days following remain fresh. I had just got home with my children Yimi and Ronehi from the airport, ( they came on a different flight), and while they were eating, the phone rang, it was my husband, announcing the sad incident. From that day onwards our house was like a ghost town with little or no sound from the children, no eating and all that. My husband had to get the chief security coordinator of Shell then Pastor 'Leke Adedipe to speak with Yimi. He was able to encourage her to try to eat so that she can find strength to pray for her beloved friend Kechi. We thank God for the journey so far and pray that He will perfect that which He has started in Kechi's life.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing, Glay. Those were dark days, indeed, but we thank God for prayers of friends and family. Yimi has remained a vital part of Kechi's support group till date and we really appreciate her.
ReplyDeleteAnd a big Amen to your prayers. God bless you.