EPISODE 8: THE POWER OUTAGE CALL š¤
924 Words
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Day 12. Friday.
It was hot.
Blantyre in October hot. The kind where the fan just moves warm air around and you give up.
I was supposed to call Tariq at 9pm.
At 8:58pm, the lights flickered.
Once. Twice.
Then nothing.
Blackout.
"ESCOM you have to be joking," I groaned.
No lights. No WiFi. No charging my phone. It was at 14%.
And in 2 minutes I was supposed to call the person 7,000 miles away.
I panicked for a second. Then I grabbed candles, my power bank, and went to sit on the veranda. At least there was breeze.
8:59pm.
I texted him with my last bit of data:
*Me: Powerās out. Calling in 2 min. Donāt worry.*
*Tariq: ?*
*Tariq: Are you okay??*
*Me: Iām fine. Just dark. Call me.*
I hit the call button at 9:01pm. It rang. Once. Twice.
His face popped up. He looked frantic.
"Morie! Are you safe? Is it the whole area? Do you have light?"
"Iām okay," I said, holding up a candle. "See? Very romantic. Just me and 3 candles."
He exhaled. "You scared me. I thought something happened."
"I know. Sorry. ESCOM timing is impeccable."
He was in his kitchen. The light behind him was bright and normal. It made me feel the dark more.
"How long do they usually take?" he asked.
"No idea. Could be 30 minutes. Could be until morning."
"Okay," he said. "Okay. We can still talk."
So we did. But it was different.
My screen was dim to save battery. His face kept freezing. The call dropped twice and we had to redial.
"This is ridiculous," he said on the third reconnect. "I canāt even see you properly."
"I can see you," I said. "And I can hear you. Thatās enough."
He looked at me for a second. Really looked.
"Youāre wearing my hoodie again."
"Obviously. Itās my emergency hoodie now."
"Good."
We tried to do normal call stuff. He told me about work. I told him about the market. But every 5 minutes Iād check my battery. 12%. 10%.
"Donāt hang up because of battery," he said.
"I might have to. I donāt want it to die mid-sentence."
"Then letās make this one count."
He leaned closer to the camera.
"Tell me something," he said.
"What?"
"Tell me something youāve never told me before. Something real."
The dark makes you honest, huh.
"Okay," I said. "When you left... I stood at the airport for 20 minutes after. Just watching planes. And I thought, what if this is the biggest mistake we make?"
He was quiet.
"Me too," he said finally. "On the plane. I stared at the seat and thought, what if 6 months breaks us."
"But?"
"But then I remembered Day 1. You said āone day at a time.ā And I thought, okay. We can do one day."
"One day," I repeated.
The call glitched. His face pixelated.
"Morie? You there?"
"Iām here." 8% battery.
"Stay with me until it dies," he said softly.
"Okay."
We didnāt talk about anything big. We talked about stupid stuff.
About how heād burn the house down if he tried to cook by candlelight.
About how Iād probably trip over something in the dark.
About the first thing weād do when heās back.
"Nsima," he said immediately.
"With beans and relish," I said.
"And then sleep. For like 3 days."
"Deal."
7%.
6%.
"Morie," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Iām really glad it was you on the other end of this blackout."
"Me too. Glad it was you in the light."
5%.
The screen warned me.
"I have to go," I whispered.
"I know." He smiled, but his eyes were wet. "Tomorrow? Same time?"
"Same time. If thereās power."
"If not, text me. Or send a voice note. Or a carrier pigeon."
"Iāll send a pigeon."
4%.
"Bye, home," he said.
"Bye, home."
The call dropped.
The phone went black 2 minutes later.
It was just me, the candles, and the crickets.
It shouldāve felt lonely.
But it didnāt.
Because 5 minutes ago heād said "Iām glad it was you."
And I believed him.
I sat there until 10pm. Writing in my notebook by candlelight.
_Day 12: Power outage. Call dropped. Battery died. But we got to say the real stuff first. 170 days to go._
*Saturday. Day 13.*
Power came back at 6am.
First thing I did: charge phone. Second thing: check messages.
*Tariq: 2:14am - Couldnāt sleep. Kept thinking about the call. About what you said. About us. Weāre okay, right?*
*Tariq: 6:00am - Morning. Power back?*
*Me: Powerās back. And yes. Weāre okay. More than okay.*
He called me at 9pm on the dot. Lights were on. WiFi was working.
"Look," he said, panning his camera. "Full power. No excuses."
"Show off," I laughed.
We didnāt talk about the outage much. We didnāt need to.
It was already in us.
That night before bed:
*Tariq: I hated that I couldnāt reach you.*
*Me: I hated that you could see me and I couldnāt see you.*
*Tariq: But we still found each other in the dark.*
*Me: We always do.*
In my notebook:
_Day 13: Blackouts happen. To power, and to people. The trick is to keep a candle lit. And to keep calling. 169 days to go._
Day 12 taught us:
You canāt control ESCOM.
You canāt control WiFi.
You canāt control when your battery dies.
But you can control that you show up at 9pm.
Even in the dark.
Especially in the dark.
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to be continued...*
- Writer
