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Having lived a life of norm, nothing exciting or ever lucrative, I have reached an age where I thought writing an autobiography would be sort of a creative time pass; which may prove to be insightful. To me the world has been a pretty tough, and rough, place altogether. Where survival of the fittest type policies are automatically applied on either class of people: rich or poor. Everything, though, before occupational (working) life was different; pretty much easier as to say. Everything was handed over to you without any expectations in return; well at least it felt that way. Being an ordinary boy, I do remember the days when everyone was choosing his/her future, to move on to a higher level of living. I, at the same time, had an option too; a choice, a desire. Though I did not end up achieving everything I wanted to, I did, however, fortunately live up to the age of 61; presently. It has been a long path, one that always seemed to elongate and expand for no ordained reason; living without a cause, you may interpret as. I might have had hopes of running a business or even showing up on television in the form of an occasional weather reporter or even a newscaster, but it all seemed too vague back then.
I moved on to the civil field. As a civil worker I was employed as a supervisor of sorts; mainly to do with construction sites. My jobs altered with the shifts of locations. It was a rough job standing under the open sky and watching manual labourers strive. I was lucky I had a house beforehand; my father's. I lived in a compound, in one of the many houses in the allotted area. My job, as I stated, was fairly tough and so I did not get time to meet the people around me. At a time, I was married to a woman with whom I lived with for 12 years. She bore no child though. As soon as I turned 43 I became a childless bachelor. My wife had died of cancer; breast cancer. To add to that, my parents passed away a few years after I got married. I was their only child. My parents were great together. Encouraging me throughout, they never seemed disappointed at me anymore after I had taken up a permanent job; that of a civil worker. I must admit, and even confess, that I always got my priorities wrong, but I did end up making my way through; my present situation being the result. From age 18 all the way up to 43 were the fluctuating times of my life, nothing much to add to that. It was as if I had completed living my life, if there was anything that would happen it just got done with.
I eventually retired at the age of 51. It was not all that bad, towards the end of it all (my job) I did get to work in my own office, and sitting in the office and receiving phone calls was about all I would do all day. Going home was not much of a relief either, after reaching home I would simply cook, eat and then simply read. I still have a large collection of authors' works in the form of novels and documents. When I did retire though, I realized that there was definitely a lot more to living than I thought there was. I always thought about cooking, especially about the cooking I would do after my retirement. As a result, cooking turned out to be a hobby and eating (my own food) another. Books were always there though. Morning walks soon became regulated and I stayed on to remain healthy enough to live on to 61. Life was not bad over-all but I was still waiting for a breakthrough, or so it seemed. Pub-crawling became a weekend habit, because I thought socializing was what I lacked the most; my excuse for not advancing socially being the lack of time. I had to admit, though, that I had learned to live a solitary life, and on my own I had perfected my lifestyle. Soon, I was to defy any sort of criticism due to my self-evident perfectionism. I was growing old, or should I say had grown old, and was looking forward to a more peaceful time towards the end of life. That little thought was a misconception however, because it seemed like my life had just started. As I am going to explain thoroughly about an important incident, or event I should call, that occurred in my life, I would like to thank that person to have done whatever she did, being an angel that she was, she made my life worth living again.
On a given weekend a car entered my compound, to which I sensed a positive internal thought. I thought of it as a revival of a sort. To be more precise, I took it to be an occasion to celebrate for I thought a new neighbour was moving in. It was early in the morning and I might have been dreaming in my previous state, which was minutes ago. So positive I was that I went downstairs to inquire and investigate about the current situation. When I reached downstairs, the car turned out to be a taxi; I must have been really sleepy then, up in the house. A young girl came out of the taxi, with massive amounts of luggage being taken out of the car by the driver. I had got the message, but I felt no need to interfere in the happenings. Watching it as it happened was good enough for a person like me. As she unlocked the main door n stepped into her new house, I went home and started to wait and think about what to do. She would find out, sooner or later, about me so I stayed and awaited her arrival, and it did happen and so things changed. From that day on I had a different day spending pattern, a whole new way of looking at things and above all, I was a changed man.
She was 26, working, and single. She was from another town though. That's when I thought of job opportunities, and asked myself about it. I still couldn't think of anything but working and living as the same civil worker that I had been for around 2 and half decades. I guess I was never meant to excel. However, my new neighbour and I started off with occasional visits, which soon turned out to be day spends during weekends. It felt great, I had reduced my duration on reading books and I started eating out a little too. She was new in town and did not have many acquaintances or friends either. I was excelling in a different mode though, maybe not occupationally but definitely generally. I still recall her quoting, as a complement: "Living around a friend like you, I don't think I would ever need to put in extra effort in making additional associates."
It was as simple as that: day spending, sharing, aiding, and growing together. It was all good, we just got along. Time was spent in the things we did and years passed as well, with my ageing and her maturing experience-wise. This experience of mine went on for about 7 glorious years. But the time had come, as it does for everyone. I had been living a fairly healthy life but I guess it just had to happen. I started feeling awkward all of a sudden. Laziness took over me, and my health started to deteriorate. Chest pains were to follow the minor symptoms, which soon became serious. This is where my neighbour played her role; a role of benevolent piety. She found out during one of my unfortunate days and took me to the hospital as I asked her to. There we got information that a remedy was soon needed to prevent me from incurring a heart attack. That remedy was a heart operation, which I could not afford. All of my pension money accumulated would still not make up for the money required. But the girl, who I had now known for 7 years, took the initiative in the dilemma and took oath to pay up for the operation and called for the operation to take place. Mentally I did not want to live anymore, feeling that I had lived my life a little more than I should have. But, again, it was because of such people (as my neighbour) that I gave myself a reason, an incentive, to carry on; if I could. She did her level best to pay the amount for the operation in a certain time period, and I did go on to live. As I am writing right now, I would owe this occasion to God who associated me with such a great person who would go on to play a vital role in my life; and for my life altogether. As I got back home, from taking sanctuary within hospital premises, my neighbour told me that it was an honour to help in the way she was permitted to by the situation. I found her grateful in return.
I was not as active as before but I still enjoyed quality time with her as always. A year or two more, and fate were to part us. She was leaving for another place; she was going to ‘excel’. She had got an offer from a prestigious firm, offering her a rank of a Managing Director; with time she achieved her goal. Selling her house and collecting her goods, she left on a Saturday afternoon. I felt heartbroken, but at the same time I felt that I owed her something and my association with her was never-ending. Just a week ago I sat down to write down my will. Since I had no descendant, I stated that the house that I reside up till today, my property, should be passed on to that very girl who lived in my compound for about 9 years alongside my own house; my neighbour. Living a life with a neighbour was an exhilarating experience. I may not have learned much on my on, but I definitely did with a partner. I do try keep in touch with her, but unfortunately up till now it has just been one-sided. I assume she's a little busy.
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