She was lousy. Or so we all thought. Until she traveled.

The first few days after her departure, relief! Finally, no more noise and fights and taunts in our ears.

Her voice was loud. She was the first person I met on the compound when I moved in. She sounded nice and friendly, and the welcome she gave me reassured me that I wasn’t going to be lonely in that new neighborhood. She was the youngest tenant in the house, and I was glad there was someone my age that I could chat with when bored, and perhaps see what could develop from there.

I would soon find out, that her name was pauline, that she had a child and a man, although they were not married. And that she was at the center of the many frequent fights and petty quarrels that had become part of life in my new home, like the beach and waves.

Imagine our joy when Pauline announced she was going to see her in-laws. I had no idea where her man was, for the months I’ve been living there, he’s never come to see her.

Pauline’s departure thought me an important lesson. She wasn’t someone I would say was my close friend. Or someone I depended on for anything in the house, not even companionship. But ever since she left, the house has been quiet, and I began to miss her voice, the petty quarrels that she provoked, even her movements in the house. My room was at the entrance of the house, so all the drama unfolded right at my doorstep where co-tenants stormed pass whenever they had exchanges.

I wasn’t the only one to have missed her. I heard those who often quarelled with her say the same too. For what we all thought was a few days of Pauline’s departure turned to weeks and weeks into months.

Then one day, Pauline was back, unexpectedly, one hot Saturday afternoon.

Joy! As everyone screamed Pauline’s name, hugging and welcoming her back, friends and foes alike.

I understood one thing that day, no matter how annoying someone is, when they are no more, you’ll miss even the silliest things they used to say and do. Everyone matters.