Sealed

He woke up from what seemed like the longest sleep he had had in ages. The music was playing on Trace, and his room at 7am was still quite dark and cozy. The lights hanging over his bed had a dull glow; a soft reminder that he was back in Nigeria where low voltage was normal. The low voltage however, contributed to the ambience.

He remembered he had slept at about 2am that morning after working for 5 straight hours. This project meant everything and it just had to work. Now that he was up, a quick prayer and a cup of coffee were the logical next steps. He did his last checks on the project while the water for the coffee was boiling and eventually sent the email to the team with fingers crossed.

He heard whistling and thought to himself, “Perfect timing for the hot water”. He was totally refreshed. The cup of coffee was just a formality. He had to maintain his routine, he did not want to jinx the process. He got into his bathrobe , picked up the cup and stepped onto the balcony where he stared into the horizon. There was no sunrise to see but working from a beach house did have its perks.

As he stood there, he received a text which read: “I just sent the mail to my inside guy. Omo!! We dey collect this funding”. He looked up, tears in his eyes as the waves crashed against the shore and couldn’t help but think that he was indeed living his best life. He had no clue that all that was about to change…

Timbuk2