Back in the day, one of the most pleasurable moments of a friend was the take-off of a plane. He loved the sensation of a plane taxing off at a great speed and then gently lifting itself up into the air. Included in that sensation for him, was the feeling that earth bound burdens and worries were also being left behind. And as the plane floated in the air, so did his worries float off his mind. According to him, he always felt light and unreachable. It was ‘an escape’ he cherished, perhaps akin to what drug users experience. I always admired – and envied – that one could cede control so readily and be ecstatic about it. My sensation on the other hand, was the complete opposite. I usually felt the tightening of my chest followed by an inescapable mouthing of silent prayers as a plane taxied to become airborne. The safety instructions of the cabin crew never helped matters. They just reinforced the belief that I was in a metal contraption that I had no control over. Or that I had put my life in the hands of a pilot I did not know and whose temperament I could not therefore assess but whose judgement I had to trust. This inability to let go completely, had probably denied me some of the intangible pleasures of air travel.

I have always been a fairly independent person and journalism, my profession, suited my persona well. The timeless belief that there is a story in every adventure, pushed me in my younger days to go to strange places and try new things. The feeling of being in control was my strength even in places where I couldn’t speak the language. Now older, the fear of losing control has slowed me down. I now tend to gravitate near my ‘comfort zones’ – meaning predictable and therefore, boring according to my children. Traveling by road has never really been a comfort zone – too many uncertainties. I recently had cause to make a week-long air and road trip to honor a big brother and confidant. I was filled with dread mainly because nothing was going to be under my control for a whole week. The decisions around sleeping, eating and travelling – including which vehicle to travel with – were not mine to make. While I wasn’t too bothered about whether I was traveling in a saloon, SUV or coastal bus, I was concerned about who would be behind the wheels – the driver of the car I was assigned to actually hit a vehicle in our convoy at the back because, according to him, the vehicle stopped suddenly. At another time, a beautiful Lexus jeep I was put in suddenly stalled and stopped just as the convoy was gathering speed risking our being stranded. I could not afford to eat anything, or drink even water before setting out for fear of being pressed before a bathroom break which meant nothing touched my mouth for about twelve hours. Behind this was the knowledge that I couldn’t control my time in anyway. The fact that some of the areas were reputedly dangerous also made it difficult for me to relax. In the end though, it all turned out to be a very pleasant trip. I made new friends and connected with old ones. But it was a trip I would have enjoyed a lot more if I had learnt to cede control and just go with the flow.

Ceding control is what we all do every night whether we acknowledge it or not. When we close our eyes to sleep, we are no longer in control of what is taking place within or outside us. We wake up to take a measure of control as we plan our day. All which could change because of an incident to us or to those around us. It all came home to me forcibly recently when I found myself in three different hospitals in just over a week because people very close to me had health challenges during the night which resulted in their being rushed to hospitals at daybreak. Whatever plans I had made during those hectic few days flew out of the window. Needless to say that those who suddenly found themselves in hospital – two of them were fine before going to bed while the third had a mild discomfort shortly before bedtime – had their engagements completely altered for the next week and more. It is a humbling lesson that none of us is in control of our day let alone our life. We should therefore, not take it for granted when our day goes the way we have planned it. All it takes is a phone call, a bad meal, a bad swing on the golf course which happened to a close friend last week resulting in his currently hobbling about with the aid of a walking stick, or simply a door that refuses to lock and the rest of the day can go horribly wrong. Many of us are living so much in the future that we forget the present and the grace that makes the day possible. Many act as if somebody has promised them twenty more years instead of one minute second. The bible talked about the rich man who accumulated so much that he told his soul to rest and enjoy the rest of its life in abundance. He was not to know that the soul would be required of him before daybreak. Jesus called the rich man a fool.

Many of us behave like that rich man – laying up treasures for old age however we define treasures or old age. Many make plans for sons who might not even outlive them and for grandchildren who might not be born. When I think of how fragile life is and how out of control we all are, not just on a road trip or an unfamiliar setting, I wonder at the folly of the elites in my country. Their overriding desire to be in control just reminds me of the rich man in the Bible who didn’t reckon with ‘father time’. The politicians maiming and killing in their jostle for power and control – the recent embarrassing spectacle at the PDP Secretariat is a glaring example – might find 2027 a mere mirage. Some might not even get there. They need to learn to cede control. No one knows where they would be in 24 hours because no one has been given tomorrow as a certainty. It is a sobering thought that should make us more circumspect.

•Muyiwa Adetiba is a veteran journalist and publisher. He can be reached via titbits2012@yahoo.com