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Topic: PHONE (11/10/16)
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TITLE: DEATH OF MY SON | Previous Challenge Entry
By Robert Rutaagi
11/15/16 -
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God, by His grace, granted me and my wife, Celia, four children. Four girls and one boy. That was the number of children we wished to have although we had never discussed it. But in my heart of hearts, I needed a second boy.
We did what everybody was doing. Family planning. No sooner had we taken this decision and implemented it than a new government came into power. A directive was issued that all chief executive officers of public enterprises had to undergo a three-months quasi-military training. That is how I found myself in a military camp I was ill-prepared for.
In life, there comes a period which is so intriguing that words cannot easily explain it to other people. Even those who experience the same situation will rely on their experiences – not the words. Whenever I meet colleagues who attended the same training, we simply laugh about it and praise God for surviving the hardships.
The camp lacked amenities of life. Food was scarce and poor. Military exercises were very tough and dangerous, sometimes, life threatening. At one time, I thought I would never come out alive.
One day, in the second month, during morning parade, the Commander called out my name and asked me to report to his office. I went.
“You are to accompany the Commander to Head Office. You are given thirty minutes to prepare”, I was instructed.
“Yes, Sir”, I saluted in obedience to the command.
Within thirty minutes I was ready with my little luggage. As we travelled to the capital where the Head Office was located, I was informed that I was briefly enjoying a special privilege to leave the camp to go back home before the official end of the training.
“You are going to your home but tomorrow you are required to help me to procure essential commodities from your organization. We return to the camp the day after tomorrow,” the Commander told me as he dropped at my residence.
I was too happy to meet my wife and children. Within less than thirty hours, it was all joy and euphoria. I was CEO of a food and beverage company. On hearing that I was at home foods and beverages flowed in, staff came to congratulate me because word had quickly gone around that Government was according me special privileges.
The following day, I led the Commander to Foods & Beverages Limited, procured the essential commodities for the camp, went home until the following day when we travelled back to the camp loaded with good food. From then onwards, until graduation as Political Cadres, my status in the camp changed because nutrition, too, had changed.
Nine months, after the travel back home, my wife delivered our fifth child and second son. The name came easily – Bob. He was born with normal weight. He resembled me.
As days passed, we noticed Bob had a problem. His eyes were different from other children of his age. His body, was getting weaker instead of stronger. We consulted a family doctor who diagnosed him with a condition known Darwin syndrome.
Doctor Justus assured us that Bob would live with the hole in the heart which would be operated upon later when he is much older. We believed him. Bob’s life continued to deteriorate. We prayed but in vain.
Eventually, he was admitted in hospital. One evening, I spent the whole day there with my wife nursing him, praying in our hearts and looking at his handsome and innocent face. He seemed to be improving. At about 7.00pm, I left the hospital, quite convinced that Bob would recover, continue to grow and when he was of the right age, he would be operated upon and the syndrome removed as the good doctor had assured us again and again.
Filled with that joy I attended Rotary fellowship after which I went home. All the children were in a boarding school so I was in the house alone except the housemaid who was in the servants quarters.
After several hours awake, sleep gunned me down. Suddenly, the phone rang. As I reached out to answer it, my heart jerked in me with a strange premonition I did not want to entertain.
“Hello Darling, how is Bob?” I asked Celia.
“Bob has passed on,” she answered.
“No, please, ask the doctor,” I pleaded, more out shock than reason.
“The doctor has already confirmed. Come and help me.”
NON-FICTION
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Well written conveying the sadness.