At the Post Office 2

Posting A Letter

In the first part of this series, I narrated my first visit to the post office. In that post I offered an open form for anyone who wants to receive a handwritten letter from me. Two readers indicated interest. I did my part but. . . .

Photo by Todoran Bogdan from Pexels

Over a month ago, I posted letters addressed to these readers. The first to the south of Nigeria and the other within my city, Jos; the former on Friday, 12th November, 2021 and the latter on Thursday, 18th November, 2021. To this moment none has been called from the post office.

I visited the post office exactly two weeks after the first was posted: the duration I was told it takes at max for posts to be delivered. That visit left me sad. I had to call the recipient and ask that the fellow visit the nearest post office to enquire if the letter has arrived; same for the other after a week. Those letters were supposed to be a surprise packages; I should be called from both ends and experience an outburst of excitement graced with amusements. I dare to say, in the Muzungu's words, "WAWA" (West Africa Wins Again; a term used by Prof. Eb and his wife whenever they got overwhelmed by circumstances prevalent during their stay in Uganda, as narrated in book Piercing the Night. Anticipate the review of the book on here!)

At the Post office, the attendant was asking what must have been the problem in the delivery of the letters. Though, he was also alarmed at the closest recipient not receiving his letter, I wondered how he expected me to respond to his hypothetical questions. I felt disappointment welling up inside of me towards the postal services, and felt it spreading across other off-putting happenings in the nation's systems.

To douse my sad feelings and avoid becoming apprehensive of letter writing, I resorted to the more viable alternative, e-mail. (I wrote to the first recipient yesterday, 14-12-2021; will write the other subsequently). I wasn't ignorant of e-mail but I wanted to have the experiences of old: using the traditional postal systems; to experience what waiting for delivery feels like, the impact handwritten letters have, and all else in-between. All that anticipation is drowning in the river of ineffectiveness flooding national systems. I was indirectly and partly blamed for the letter not being delivered: the attendant said, 'Assuming you registered with the post office. . . .' Like, how should I know that such distinction existed if I wasn't told after stating that I wanted to post a letter? Plus I asked if the procedures I complied to was all I needed to do on both occasions before leaving the office after posting the letters.

I may try posting another letter and will register this time around. If I do, I'll make a sequel to this series hoping it revives your desire to use the system if this series created one, somehow. Until then, I will sustain hope for a while, that it gets delivered eventually, maybe several months later as Eb experienced with a similar system in a part of West Africa (his spanned over a year, though). And will keep writing mails to loved ones as I bask in the upliftment that comes with delightful responses with intermittent silences, if the response came via a phone call.

---

When was the last time you wrote a loved one?

You can write one after you've reacted to this post, commented on it, and maybe share after you've SUBSCRIBED.

Here's something for your emotions as you write your plans for the coming year: Another December.