1. Mr. Harry Banda.

Harry stared at the vast blue sky. He took a deep breath in, and tried to make his way through the throng. He’d never had imagined that his great grand father’s homeland would be so full of life. Most of the other big cities that he had visited with his daughter had seemed densely populated, but the people seemed to be focused on their own business, and trying to become a rich vlogger. Their smartphones were glued to their sides 24/7 which made Harry feel somewhat disconsolate. Yes, he had been a part of the so-called young and upcoming business technology gurus, but that time back then was like a distant nightmare that Harry wanted to forget. The devices that he had helped to create— he had hoped to have seen them being used for the greater good- Samaritan work, Volunteering to plant trees…or maybe he just needed to find a way to get the younger generation into learning how to spend more time in nature: enjoying the view of a beautiful sunrise be it over the ocean/lake, or spending some time with a family of elephants in a rainforest. These were also on his list of activities Harry planned to do with his daughter after his vacation. He gazed around the busy city of Lusaka. He chuckled to himself when he spotted a familiar face, Pamela. She waved at Harry, and he waved back.

Pamela: Mr. Banda…where are you headed today?

Harry: (shakes his head) Well, Hello to you, too, Pamela. I’m surprised you’re already here at KKIA to pick me up. I thought you would be still fast asleep.

Pamela: (grins) Ha! I was…eh kinda. I took a nap while waiting for you to arrive.

Harry: (sighs) This means my daughter won the bet.

Pamela: She’s a smart girl that one.

Harry: Yeah, that she is. She takes after her mother, and grandmother.

Pamela: (chuckles) That is true. Oh, by the way, Fiona wants to know what you’d like to have for breakfast.

Harry: Please tell her not to over cook like she’s serving the King of Nubia. All I need is some toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of milo. I have to have some milo every morning now thanks to my daughter. (smiles)

Pamela: Aight. I’ll let Fiona know. (clears throat) How’s your wife doing?

Harry: Not so good. She’s still in a coma.

Pamela felt for Harry. She told Harry that she would continue to pray for his wife.

Harry felt his heart sink. He missed his wife’s presence. The memories of that night still lingered in his head— like a heavy fog that seemed to stay, and never vanish even as time- or seasons passed. He had not been at home. He’d decided to continue his work at the office, burning the midnight oil. Then his daughter called him and informed him that her mother had not made it back home from the library. Harry had nearly fainted. He rushed home, and on his way there he had made a call to the police station. The were right on top of it, and searched for his wife’s vehicle. Her body had been found lying still in her car underneath an old bridge. All doors of the vehicle, and most of the front as well looked quite beaten up. His wife had lost a lot of blood from a head, and neck injury. The airbag malfunctioned, and she had lost control of the car after hydroplaning off the road.

Harry took a deep breath. Now was not the time for thinking of his wife’s accident. She was in great hands. Harry and his daughter tried not to worry too much. They also prayed for a speedy recovery. Maybe his wife would be alright before, or by Christmas Day. If that was going to be the case, Harry would immediately cut his vacation time short, and head back home. Meanwhile, he would later check in on his daughter and find out how boarding school was going.

#Mr.HarryBanda

December 3rd, 2024.