The James Babalanda I knew. .

You then told me you were also sad. I remember the look on your face and how you smiled faintly after saying so. We were unable to talk that day; it was those peak hours, so I thought we would have that conversation another time.

Indeed, I woke up Friday morning and as I was organising my room, you crossed my mind. Perhaps it’s because of the pending conversation we were meant to have.

It was until some minutes later when I checked my phone and saw a message from Henry Mulindwa, “Sad morning people. James Babalanda has gone to be with the Lord.”

I just froze. I didn’t know how to react to the news. It was just a bad dream perhaps? How so? The James I spoke to yesterday? But he didn’t look sick, I should have known at least? All these and more ran through my mind as I tried to make sense of everything at that moment. It was such a bitter pill to swallow.

It is no wonder that I was not able to attend your final send off. I was still in denial; I could not fathom how everything happened in just a snap of a finger. On the other hand I also wanted to keep only the good memories I have of you. Being there would have done me more harm than good.

One thing about you that stood out for me and I guess others with whom you crossed paths with can attest to your willingness and passion to teach others what you knew. You were not selfish with your knowledge; you were always willing to help. I recall how you occasionally reminded me that I needed to learn better video editing skills. “I’m here to help whenever you’re ready. Just tap me and I will be happy to render my services.” Unfortunately, I kept procrastinating, as desk also got heavier on me with time.

I’m still grieved, but I shall find solace in the Lord, for it was His will as much as we were not ready for it. You had so many plans laid out but God had a different plan and He knows best.

You were one of those people where by even if you left the company as you had planned to, I would still look out for you. You were not just a colleague, you became my friend.

We argued and dissed each other quite often and some people wondered how you would manage to crack me up easily. I found you so noisy that I would be surprised whenever other people described you as ‘quiet and reserved’.

Also the way you would pick up small fights with me just to exasperate me, I would post my statuses in peace only for you to come with your funny rebuttals (I sometimes go back to read those comments and just smile). You would disagree just for the sake of it.

We just connected effortlessly, despite coming from two different worlds. Although I must confess that I kinda feared you at first. I remember telling you that you struck me as a snob and you said the same about me, we both laughed it off.

Aside from the banter, I like that we would sometimes sit and have real conversation. You always challenged me to be more creative and think more outside the box.

The way you confided in me humbled me. I remember those dramatic and embarrassing scenarios of your life that you would tell me about. There is that particular one I would occasionally tease you about, but I won’t mention it here because you would sheepishly shush me whenever I brought it up, so I know you did not really want a lot of people knowing about it, but it really had me in stitches.

You were like a big brother to me and I enjoyed bullying you at any chance I got.

Do you remember the day we cut cake for April babies just a few weeks ago, when I asked when your actual birthday was? I had hoped that we would spoil you this August, because I silently observed how cake excited you.

Oh James! I have quite a lot to say about you. I think about you everyday, considering that you sat not far from me, sometimes I have to pinch myself back to reality. I learned from you when you lived but I also learned more from your departure. I’m praying for your soul.

Fare thee well, my friend.