TEN seconds. Count to ten yourself.

That is the precious little time Willie Tonga had to save his best mate Reni Maitua’s life.

To trust raw instinct, and cherish the “miracle” he cannot comprehend or adequately explain to this day.

On Friday night, Tonga returned to the visitors’ dressing room at Suncorp Stadium for Parramatta’s clash with the Broncos.

What I saw that night I do not wish upon anyone - Willie Tonga

media_camera Willie Tonga and Reni Maitua during their days playing together for the Bulldogs.

It was the very room which kickstarted a horrifying sequence of events that left Tonga a tortured soul.

A man forced to carry the burden of a seamy secret.

Indeed, the man Maitua credits for saving his life in the frantic seconds after Tonga’s former Eels teammate attempted suicide.

On August 16 last year, after a loss to the Broncos, Maitua’s spirit broke, seemingly beyond repair, in the Suncorp sheds.

He sobbed uncontrollably. Forty-eight hours later, the decision was made.

Maitua would depart by his own hand. A suicide note had been penned in devastation, along with a text message sent to his mother, Lyn, and sister, Megan.

For almost three decades, Tonga, a winger or centre, has been indoctrinated in the importance of timing.

Timing is everything to a three-quarter. Timing a run, a tackle, a pass, a tryscoring movement.

As Maitua was about to take his final breaths, Tonga timed his spiritual run to perfection.

Speaking today for the first time about the painful ordeal, Tonga opens up about Maitua’s near tragedy, his countless questions, his sleepless nights ... and the creation of a lifetime bond.

“What I saw that night I do not wish upon anyone,” Tonga tells The Sunday Mail.

“Everything that unfolded that night, I can only tell this story the way it happened ... for me to arrive when I did and save Reni’s life, I really feel it was a miracle.

“It was a blessing, one beyond my control.

“I reckon if I arrived 10 or 20 seconds later, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Reni would be gone. My life would have changed forever, more than it already has.”

media_camera Chris Sandow, Reni Maitua and Willie Tonga look dejected playing for the Eels.

Maitua has since hailed Tonga as his saviour, but the former Queensland Origin centre paints himself in no glorious light.

He regards himself as an unwitting pawn in a sickening sliding-doors moment; his actions, his availability, governed by destiny.

After all, argues Tonga, how else do you explain why he was awake at 1am to receive a last-ditch call for help from Maitua’s sister, when ordinarily he would be asleep?

And why the security door to Maitua’s apartment complex was unlocked?

And why Maitua failed to lock his front door, ostensibly clearing the path for Tonga’s mercy dash?

When the kid from Cherbourg burst into Maitua’s room, it was a sight for which there was no preparation.

Instinct. Timing.

As an Eels teammate slept in the next room, Tonga recovered Maitua’s ailing body, his adrenalin the panacea to a shocking discovery.

I believe God put me there for a reason and I was there to help Reni in his darkest moment - Willie Tonga

media_camera Reni Maitua with his extended family (L-R) Kyliah-Rose Maitua, Tatum Maitua, Reni Maitua holding Zy-James Maitua and Kyson Maitua.

“I was lucky enough to be there and instinct pretty much took over,” Tonga recalls.

“I believe God put me there for a reason and I was there to help Reni in his darkest moment.

“I’ve tried to make sense of it. Ren’s sister rang me and told me the text message he’d sent to her. Something just clicked in my head to get up immediately and go. It was like 1 o’clock in the morning so I just got up and drove straight to his house.

“I was awake believe it or not. I can’t even remember why I was awake. I’m never awake at that time of night. We had training the next morning, but I was up to answer my phone.

“I tried to ring Reni the first time. No answer. I rang again ... it went straight to voicemail.

“I knew then I had to go. Something inside you kicks in. As soon as I walked into his room, your instinct says, ‘Get him’.

“You can’t prepare for what I saw that night. I had no idea what I was going to walk into. I didn’t know if he was going to be in the room at that time. What I saw I will never forget.

“I guess it was meant to be.”

Every single day, I would wake up worrying about him, whether he was at training, whether he was OK that day - Willie Tonga

But if Tonga saved his mate, he was a prisoner of the psychological repercussions of his rescue mission.

Like blood brothers covering up a chilling crime, the external world was best not knowing and Maitua’s harrowing grief would become Tonga’s deep secret.

Maitua has since expressed his pain over asking Tonga to suffer in silence.

It is testimony to Tonga’s loyalty and constitution that his primary concern was always the welfare of his good mate.

“Reni didn’t want anyone to know,” Tonga says.

“The only people in rugby league who knew were myself and Sonny Bill Williams. All I could think about, day after day, was the image I saw of Reni that night. It kept playing in my head.

“For me, what was just as hard as finding ‘Ren’ was keeping the secret. Reni asked me not to tell anyone and the next few months was agonising.

“Every single day, I would wake up worrying about him, whether he was at training, whether he was OK that day.

“His closest friends didn’t know what happened and Reni wasn’t in a stable condition straight after the incident, so I’d be going to training with this massive weight on my shoulders.

“I felt I had to watch out for Reni and check on him. And yet I was going through my own personal difficulties.”

When Reni eventually came out and told everybody what happened, I felt an instant relief - Willie Tonga

media_camera Willie Tonga opens up on saving Reni Maitua’s life.

Did he seek counselling himself?

“No I didn’t,” Tonga says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I struggled a bit, but I dealt with it by saying Reni is alive with me and his friends and family. If he wasn’t alive, then it would be a different story.

“People were encouraging me to go and get counselling, but I didn’t feel comfortable going to see anybody. I just got through it the way I would usually get through hard times and that’s by being strong.

“When Reni eventually came out and told everybody what happened, I felt an instant relief because I knew there was now help out there for him. It wasn’t just me on my own somehow trying to handle something I couldn’t really handle. He could get professional help. Every single day, I would travel to his place and check if he was OK.

“It was a tough period, but I had a chat to Sonny Bill about it. He said look, Reni is still here with us, you were there at the right time, so it’s a blessing.

“As long as Ren is healthy now, I’m happy.”

Amid the agony, Tonga has found motivation and undergone a footballing catharsis.

A fortnight before Maitua’s suicide attempt, Tonga weighed in for a Parramatta game and was rocked by a reading of 107kg.

It was the first alarm bell, and the Maitua ruction rammed home his NRL mortality.

Today, he is rippling at 94kg, having lost 13 kilos in six months. Off-contract at season’s end, Tonga has the hunger of a man fighting for his career.

“The last two years have been the worst of my life,” he says.

“When I stepped on the scales that day and saw 107kg, I knew I needed to change things off the field to save my career. It was the heaviest I’d ever been. I had to stop going out, stop partying. My eating habits weren’t good.

“Just by changing my attitude, I dropped the weight really quickly. I still have my strength and agility wise I feel a lot lighter on my feet. I’ve been able to keep my speed as well.

“This is the fittest I’ve been in a long time.”

media_camera Reni Maitua back at Belmore Oval.

And now, Tonga and Maitua are wiser. Adversity has super-glued their friendship.

There is an unspeakable bond ... and a life lesson that no amount of testosterone, or macho pride, should stop a troubled mate reaching out.

“Me and Ren have always been close since we met, but now when I see him, it just feels different between us,” Tonga says.

“I feel a special bond. He is one of my best mates and he went through his depression without me knowing.

“What I wish is that he was able to open up to me.

“That’s the stupid thing, us footballers being all macho, we didn’t want to share feelings, he held it all in.

“But through this experience we can now speak openly about it. It’s definitely brought us closer. For the rest of his life, Reni knows I’ll have his back.”

Originally published as I had 10 seconds to save Reni: Tonga