The emotional backpack; and how I earned an ambulance ride.

It was not your typical ‘Nataka nilewe waite Ambulance’ type of night, but a night with the emotional backpack.

In addition to that, my mouth and throat had been tasked with throwing up for the best part of the evening and oh, there was lose stool as well,

Not the introduction you were looking forward to?

Well, it happened.

One thing led to another and behold, in bone and flesh it was my first time in an ambulance!

I’m talking laboratory-coat and able bodied friends in-case I couldn’t take this first walk into thy chariot that was at that moment whirling red just missing the siren.

I knew that I wasn’t going to wake up from this bad dream for it was a reality.

As I lay back there in, pain immutable, I didn’t wish the pain away, but the presence of a soul my heart desired and guess what, she wasn’t there.

Not to sound flippant, I was in pain and she was neither there to kiss the pain away, hug the cold away from my feeble shivering body nor present to assure me that it shall all be well and that just like a phoenix, I’d rise from this mundane episode.

Emotional backpack I say, is an invisible yet quantifiable form of matter. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder; her not being there made the four chambers of my beating heart as fond of her as fond can get


To put everything into perspective, I had let her go.

In Pinks own words,

you only know you love her when you let her go.’

no one

At that realization, I was bleeding and my doctor couldn’t bandage something to do with food poisoning. I was suffering from a heartbreak and the full force of emotional attachment.


Love is the real deal and it comes with an emotional backpack classic or custom made for you, pick your own poison.

My emotional backpack was heavy and there was need to offload. Perhaps it was a plea for help from my drowning self.

Worse still, no one could listen to you because they wouldn’t understand either way.

Anyway, in the emotional backpack, all that recollects and it piles to an extent that it is so heavy you end up looking like the primary school kids with the heavy bags full of textbooks and exercise books in the name of homework.

(We should start a revolution against this injustice by the way) And you are damn right, it is heavy but it is yours to carry.

In the languish of that emotional misery and torture, several things came to mind. For starters, you wish that your partner in crime would once again want to be cuffed hand by hand hence carry this emotional backpack with you.

This is so because, naturally, they would know how to lessen the baggage. When they were around, it was easier to lift, flow with it and above all, to own your baggage. Of course because you loved your significant other.

My mind was torn between acknowledging the best part yet of my young adulthood life experiences and choosing to start all over again.

With every bump the ambulance got to, it drove over, an emotional backpack is that heavy tonnage lorry carrying construction materials.

Depending on how heavy, even possibly longer!My body get slowed down in almost every basic activity. Even your water intake could go to a glass a day or in two days, very dangerous. I mean, we all deal with breakups differently.

I’m an emotional being.

Emotions are what drive me in other words. I cry at a happy ending in a movie. I curl up like a cat whenever I’m cozy with my loved ones.

To love is to be understood.

When that person is no longer in the picture, we tend to wallow in the abyss. The moment all that doesn’t work out, follows the emotional breakdown.

Tears of melancholy descended on me.

Doctors would calm me.

Friends were there with a warm soothing message of hope that all would be well.

But all that fell on deaf ears or rather they were communicating to the wrong body part.

My heart is what needed soothing

Lesson for all of us is

Not everything is as it seems.

No One

After a tumultuous night, I was prescribed a dose which I knew couldn’t cure my heart.

As such in life, I’m supposed to play Jesus.

Offloading my emotional backpack will take time, and just like falling in love .


PS; Shout out to all my friends who were there for me and I’m forever indebted to the ones I was with in the ambulance. Till next time…salute!

Stephen Okwemba

Life enthusiast, creative and passionate on life lessons.

14 comments on “The emotional backpack; and how I earned an ambulance ride.

  • Cindy

    Lovely piece…

  • Mariam Mbodze

    Great talent, mahn

  • Kelly G

    That was a hell of a ride I presume… Hope you have finally offloaded your backpack

  • Njagi

    Weeeh😪 i have felt this🔥

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