Do I Dare Disturb the Universe?

God must know what he's doing. He must know why stars fade and volcanoes erupt. He must understand- when all efforts are weighed down by failure, he must understand. He must know, he must understand, he just has to.

Maybe things are the way they are meant to be. Maybe these doubts and questions are a falter of mine. Do I dare and do I dare? Do I dare disturb the universe? Maybe if I could borrow the thoughts of T.S. Eliot for just one day, I might understand. I don't understand.

I don't understand pain.

And I don't understand the fear that comes with pain, and the tears- the amassing of pressures and griefs...I don't understand the sorrow. I have tried everything I can, but above all, I don't understand the pain that comes with death.

December 10th, 2005. God knows if I could bring that day back, I woul change everything. I would change it all, the way it all went. I'm not sure how but I would change it. I would disturb the universe. Somehow. If only.

I remember the day I had about a gazillion tests, homework to submit, projects to complete. School was hard, and I cried. I was tired and I couldn't take it anymore, plus there were pressures coming from all angles. We were walking to class that morning, the both of us, large hardcover notebooks in our hands. And I broke down. But she was there, and she helped me through it. If that should happen again, who would be there for me?

My best friend. I never did enough for you. That was why I had already planned ahead for your birthday. The birthday you would never have.

She woke me up that morning, just to say goodbye. I would have emailed her when I got home. I always wonder, did she know? Perhaps she dreamt about it the night before? Perhaps she felt it within her. Perhaps they all did. I wish I knew.

December 10 2005. Flight 1145 Sosoliso Airlines from Abuja, Nigeria to Port Harcourt crashed. On the plane were 61 students from my school. They were headed home for the christmas holidays. All but one student from my school on the flight were killed. I never saw my friend again.

Somehow, I never recovered.

Every time I run a race, I remember how we ran together. How she was so much better than me and how she pushed me to go on. I remember how happy we were when we won. How she told me, "I told you this was our race!" How we laughed at our nervousness. I want to cry.

Every time I write something new, I remember how she always read my work. How she commended and critiqued it all. I want her to read everything I write, I want her to be there. I want to cry.

Whenever I achieve something, I want to tell her. It was so much worth putting in so much effort just so she would rejoice with me. But she wasn't there when I passed those exams, she wasn't there when I won those awards, she wasn't there when I won those medals, she just wasn't there anymore. I want to cry.

And sometimes I feel so alone. I look around and it seems no one understands me the way she did. No one has been there for me the way she was.

A lot of the time, I wonder how it must have felt. How it must have felt to know that you're going to die. To be on that plane, scorched by the flames, frightened by the sounds, suffocated by the fumes. And she struggled, my friend, she did. She survived the actual crash, but died in the aftermath. In the end, there were only two survivors from the entire crash, and only one from my school.

Some people say people die only when the time is right. But she had so many dreams, so many hopes, so many plans for the future. She was only fifteen. They all had so many dreams, some of them were as young as nine or ten.

And I wish for that reason that I could change the past, just for that reason, to disturb the universe. Because it's hard, it's hard for us who were at school, it's hard for the parents and family and friends- one family lost all three children. And we always ask why these things happen, no one gives an answer, we keep questioning. I don't understand death, and I don't understand the pain it brings. God must know what He's doing, sometimes I'm forced to question, could he not have done it another way?

But I trust my God. Though he slay me, yet I will trust Him (job 13:15)

And I have not the strength to disturb the universe.

So I cry instead.