In Ghana, “I’ll be there now” does not mean now.
It means eventually.
Spiritually.
Emotionally.
The person could still be bathing.
They could be eating.
They could be lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.
But they will say it confidently.
“I’m coming now.”
You relax.
That was your mistake.
Thirty minutes later, nothing.
You call.
“I’m close,” they say.
Close where?
Close to the house?
Close to the junction?
Close to making a decision?
You don’t ask because you already know the answer will not help.
Meanwhile, you’re sweating.
Standing outside.
Pretending you didn’t plan your day around this meeting.
People pass and look at you like you’re waiting for transport that has forgotten you.
You check WhatsApp.
They’re online.
You check again.
Still online.
You don’t want to seem desperate, so you don’t text.
But your spirit is vibrating.
Finally, one hour later, they arrive.
Smiling.
Unbothered.
“Sorry oo, traffic.”
Traffic that only affected them.
You nod like a mature adult.
“It’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
But in Ghana, we forgive quickly because if we don’t, we’ll fight everyone we know.
You move on.
You always do.
Because tomorrow, you’ll be the one saying,
“I’ll be there now.”