What’s your price?

I received a call from one of my old friends late last month. Initially, the call was weird, you know, the ones where there is an awkward silence on both ends for the first ten seconds, feeding my woke nature, it lasted longer due to the thievery in these streets. After what seemed to be a cat and mouse game, the other end of the line had a familiar voice, recognizing my identity, inquiring on my state, and asking me to say something. Still in a state of confusion, trying to think on my feet on what should follow, I immediately asked to verify my suspicions on who it could be. Long story short, he wasn’t forthcoming with that information, and his final remarks were,” I just wanted to hear your voice.” Me being me, it didn’t bother me as much, don’t get me wrong, I thought of using Truecaller to find out who it was, but deep down, I didn’t want to confirm my suspicions.

Soon after, a day or two later, I receive an email. From it, I came to know who had made that mysterious call and why he decided to reach out. I had so many questions, so I decided to call back and better understand the email sent. The email read,

I know from the moment you see my email address, you will have second-guessed opening it. But if you have come this far then, I guess I owe you at least an explanation. Yes, I was the one who called you acting all strange on Wednesday evening. I apologize for that; all I wanted to hear was a familiar voice. I know it has been close to four years since we last talked, probably not even wanting to hear from me after the fall out we had, but here I am. Congratulations on moving your writing from unsorted pieces of paper in a box to the world for them to resonate, learn, and grow from it. I surely have. From hopping in and out of rehab to taking back control of the rails, you have been that voice for me. I remember straight out of campus, you telling me to define what making it in my book looked like, me laughing and saying confidently,” Kuwakunywa na hiyo pesa!” You laughed and asked at what cost. I didn’t reply, but we both knew I would make it my reality by any means necessary. I guess that was the last few conversations I remember before, you know, things went south. Still paying the price, I guess.

Fast forward to currently, after I reached out to find out how he was fairing, a bit beat up but with lessons is what you will notice. I always say we are a product of our choices, a bitter pill to swallow, I am sure but true. The story of Sean’s choices is just one of the many that we never get to hear about. I am not about to narrate it but remind you that the power of choice will make you or break you. What I have grown to know this far in adulting is that if you want to succeed, find out what it will cost you and pay for it. However, what we forget is if along the way or at the beginning is, if the price is too expensive, you are free to walk away. There are many ways to skin a cat. History will remember you by how you choose to do it. Being at peace is something you can’t gamble on, so don’t start now.