THE DAY TOMORROW NEVER CAME
The day started just like any other day- thankful for being alive, setting goals and expecting results from previous efforts. As a marketer, I love receiving call, they always give me leaps in spirit especially when they come from unregistered numbers. That best explains my feeling when a call came and it happened the number wasn't registered. I put up the sort of voice familiar with customer care agents.

"Hello", I said into the phone.
"Hello" said the voice from the other end. It was such a voice that depicts the person knows what he wants and I liked it.
"Chidiebere, kedu kwanu? "
"Odinma, good morning" was my spontaneous response.
I now felt this guy must have been referred to me, hopefully by a customer or someone who knows me, so my hope leapt a bit higher. Referrals are almost always sweet, good business, the person who referred must have done a bit of work that you don't need to say much in a bid to convince the person to buy, the trust and confidence established with the referee, is mostly transferred to the referred.
I waited for him to ask the other question which I hoped will be the availability of a particular model of laptop and the price. But what followed was a bit disappointing; he asked after Ofeme people, an indication of extreme familiarity and got me searching my memory for a deposit of the voice. I didn’t want to offend him by not remembering someone who obviously knew me too well whom I should also know, so I tarried along, pretending to know who was speaking.
“How is Nsukka?”
“Are you done schooling?”
“Have you gone for service?”
I couldn't hide my frustration any longer as I had yet to know who it was that knew me so well and cared so much, so I asked who he was, off course after expressing regret over my failure to remember who he is. He laughed and told me not to worry, that he is Chief Nwachukwu and has a job for me once I get done with service, we said our good byes and ended the call.
Elated is too small a word to describe my feelings then, me? A job? That means I won’t ever suffer the pains of most graduates in the unemployment market.
Boy! Am I blessed? Chai, but that was going to take over a year, as I was hoping to be mobilized by June for the NYSC. If only that thief didn’t steal my laptop, no if only I had been serious with more serious with my project and overall academics, I would have gotten done with my project before the period I lost my laptop.
“What is it anyway? I will still cover lost ground.” I told myself, as I thought about most people who were my mates in school but were already serving while I just got done with my degree project.

But the name Chief Nwachukwu?
I left the room and was occupied with the thought of the man whose call I just received, wondering if the call was a mistake.
How could it have been a mistake when he mentioned my community and the school I attend?
Something then told me to ring up my dad, who knows if it was an acquaintance of his who wants to extend goodwill of their friendship to his offspring.
Dialling up my dad proved to be difficult because he was all the while engaged over the phone. When the call eventually pulled through, that same thing and voice that makes me proud to have had a dad like mine overcame me.
“Dee Ugo”
“My M.C” rang my father’s voice as we exchanged pleasantries and concerned as I dived into the business of the day which was the reason I called. I got to discover that my father had received a call from the same man who asked him to keep in touch with him as he has a contract job for him. An alarm bell was instantaneously triggered in me as my dad could not remember knowing the man from anywhere and I told him to follow the man up but remain careful so as not to fall prey to cheap fraud. My father told me to “BE CAREFUL,” a word that that turned out to be his last words to me.
I promised to ring him up later in the day to know how it went with the man. I kept to my words and dialled my Dad’s number later in the evening only for mum to pick it up with the response that dad is in the bath. It was nothing but it would be the very first time I can remember mum picking daddy’s call. I promised to call back but never did because the day was far spent just like me and I decided to not disturb but call him the next day…
Back in UNN, I just bade my friend goodnight and flung myself onto the tiny foam which serves as bed in the room and took no note of my phone when it hit the ground before me with the parts scattering all over the room…
Time was past 1am when my other phone rang and a peep on the screen showed it was my sister.
“Daddy anwuola” (daddyy is dead) she cried into the phone.
I was taken aback and wondered if it was truly my sister on the other end of the phone.
“Daddy nke ole” (which daddy) I asked, not knowing if I was trying to make sure she is the one or for lack of words to say.
"daddy nke m na gi" (mine yours) she said as her sorrow became more apparent.
The next day, rather than put a call across to my dad to know what has become of our mutual caller, I boarded the next available vehicle heading home.
Today all I have is the memory of my Dad, his works and the words he would say to me in different situations… He will never be there to call me his MC any more, I can’t deliberately pick quarrels with him knowing he would lovingly make it up to me when I point out my misgivings, I will never have a man who knew me so well and would be the same to me whether I am doing well or not, a man I can always depend on to keep his promises to me no matter how tasking, a man I will forever be proud to have had in my life.
This day would mark 4 years since his day failed to break, tomorrow, a day he struggled to breathe his very last. Continue to rest my dear father, I am going to miss you every hour of my remaining days on the world you saw and left.
Rest in peace Daddy.