It is 1:25am at the Port-Gentil International Airport.
The Afrijet airline handlers announce the time has come to board for Libreville. Having watched Uganda exit the Africa Cup of Nations after their second successive loss, I know that the faster I get back to my hotel for some rest, the better.
Being a free-seating flight, I secure a place next to the exit, buckle up and say a quick prayer. But before I can say amen, a male voice interrupts: “Anyone in this seat?” he asks. I shake my head and he sits down.
“Merci (thank you),” he says as his cologne permeates the whole cabin. As I turn my head with a forced smile (it's been a long day), our eyes meet. I am awestruck. There he is. Seated next to me, our arms rubbing against each other, is one of Africa’s legends - Cameroonian Patrick Mboma.
“Welcome, legend,” I say, almost stammering. He just smiles and adjusts his belt. Dressed in a white T-shirt, beige trousers and white sneakers, his sartorial elegance is not in doubt.
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He has not changed much since his active days. His physique is still almost intact except that his six-pack has been replaced by a protruding and conspicuous 'one-pack'.
He is also wearing spectacles. And other than a little white hair on his head and chin, there is not much difference.
Older passengers say hello to Mboma as they make their way to their seats, but the younger ones hardly turn their heads. In his heyday, Mboma was a goal-poacher blessed with a killer left foot and instincts.
If in doubt, just ask former France goalkeeper Fabien Barthez.
In one of those splendid goals, he left the great Barthez shell-shocked. He did not move an inch. Only turned his head as the bullet whizzed past him.
That was in October 1998. With the ball bouncing loosely inside the 18-metre box from a throw-in, Mboma, with the instincts of a true striker, athletically roared above former Arsenal great Emmanuel Petit, who missed the ball, and thundered home an overhead kick that will remain forever etched in the minds of those who saw it. Magical.
Back to our flight to Libreville. Mboma is a man of few words. Brief answers here and occasional nods there. Clearly, fools speak, wise men listen.
Does Cameroon stand any chance in this year’s Africa Cup of Nations? “Maybe,” he says, offering no further explanation.
So, what lessons can the young ones pick from your admirable past? “Try to be the best and do more,” he offers.
Africa is full of talent. How would he rate Gabon’s Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Senegal’s Sadio Mane and Algeria’s Riyad Mahrez?
Mboma, 46, closes his eyes and thinks deeply. Not an easy question for the big man, I tell myself. Two minutes, Mboma’s eyes are still closed; he is still thinking. Five minutes later, same thing. 10, 15, 20... no response.
I don't realise sleep has taken the better of him until the flight attendant announces that we should fasten our belts for landing.
