Death!, Oh Why?

You have done it again!
You have no shame!
You have no pity!
You do not respect talent!
You do not respect genius!
Beauty meant nothing to you!
You are callous!
The rich and poor
Like lighting
Respond to your call
Untimely most of the time
Were you to respect talent, you won’t have called her
Were you to respect beauty, you would have left this gem untouched.
True it is, that you do not respect beauty nor talent.
She will continue to live,
Death, you are a loser!
She can never die,
Because you have no string!
You have failed,
because she is greater than you!
She conquered death!
She is a unforgettable gem,
She lives on!
She will forever remain in my heart,
Good night!”. Before Mary could finish the tribute, the sheet she was reading from was damn wet.
She left the podium for her sit.
“Eunice, come and read yours” the officiating minister said.
Everywhere went dead silent!
I stood up, going to the podium, but something stopped me.
“Mount it!” The usher that was ushering me said.
I turned back, moving towards where her coffin was placed.
Her four months old son, Sam, started crying.
She died during in the labour room when she was paving way for Sam. The doctor told us to get a sum of N500,000 for the caesarian section. Her pelvic girdle was narrow and she couldn’t give birth herself. Her husband died when she was just 2 months gone with pregnancy in a fatal accident.
We sold all our valuable properties but we couldn’t gather that amount. The economic recession has affected every aspect of income. Everyone has it’s own cross to bear, friends were struggling to pay their fee, we couldn’t find the amount the Doc requested.
I personally told the Doctor to continue the surgery but she said she can’t. She said it was against the doctrine of their job.
Mary and I went to nooks and crannies to get that amount, we were able to gather N200,000 for a philanthropist social media account.
We headed straight to the hospital.
I heard Mrs Gbolasere’s voice saying “Pack”
I ran towards the ward, I saw a trolley with a white cloth on it.
I didn’t even scream or cry, I just stared at the N200,000 I was holding.
“The baby survived” Gbolasere said.
That was all I heard that day.
The more I moved towards her coffin, the more the baby cried.
Could he deduce what was happening?
I looked at him pitifully. He hasn’t tasted a colostrum before, he hasn’t seen the woman that wailed in pain for his sake.
The coffin was far above my height, I didn’t know what to do.
I looked at the usher and signalled.
He looked subconsciously!
“Bring it down!” I cried.
Two, young and fair ladies, rushed to me.
“Calm down, Eunice” the lady in brown T-shirt said.
I moved my mouth to the other lady’s ear and whispered. “Bring it down”
She looked away instead.
“I said bring it down” I screamed at her.
The undertakers rushed into the church and placed the coffin on the marble floor immediately.
They made way for their sit.
“Stop!” I stopped them. “Open it”
The congregation sighed deeply, some adjusted their glasses, some reclined on the pew.
They wondered in amazement.
Without much ado, they opened it, and I knelt beside the coffin.
I touched her rosy cheek, I caressed her neck.
“I will be doing this for the last time, that is why I’m doing it in public” I smiled admist of tears.
“Death! Where is thy string? Oh grave, where is thy victory?” I cried aloud.
I fell on the marble floor when I went haywire.
Those two ladies came to carry me to my sit.
I let out my voice “Don’t take me away. I still have a lot to say, I want to tell her how she was, what she was and what she meant.” I waved my hands in the air.
They didn’t even take cognizance of my cry, but the congregation were weeping uncontrollably. I had created a scene.
The dropped me when they couldn’t blink back their tears.
I ran back to the coffin, I cleaned my tears with the white lace she wore.
“How could you?” I shook the coffin. “You shouldn’t have left, you still have a lot to do.
I want to state strong reasons why you shouldn’t have left us so soon.
You left us without parting words!
You left us without a dear sister!
You left that baby you carried in pain and sorrow for good nine months!
You left Mother and Father that you promised to buy them cars and mansions!
You left Eunice, that girl you backed and promised to always pray for!
You left Mary, your wonderful cousin whose mother and father died in a fatal accident with your husband!
You left without seeing me wearing that cap you carved for!
On reflection, word aptly could not describe the attributes of a gem like you.
You were a spiritual titan, a giant of faith, an indefatigable woman, mother of millions. Never knew I would have to cry this early. When I behaved like a child and made several mistakes, you embraced me with love and corrected me.
We sucked from the same breast, we stayed in the same womb, we laid on the same back. The vacuum your death has created is so wide that I do not know who can fill it” I paused and brought out a piece of paper. I blew soft breeze on it and it flee away.
The way I talked, seemed as if she was alive. I said, pointing to the paper “You were not like this paper. The storms of life raged but you stood, but fate overcame.
If it is true that, ghost exist. I want you to keep an eye on your little son.
Mother and Father can’t pay you the last respect because it’s a taboo. Parents don’t witness their child’s funeral, but Mother sent her love. Very painful you won’t be there when we’ll be paying Mother last respect but we will be there.
We promise to take care of our only possession, we promise to give him the best, we promise to lead him through the right paths. I take solace in the wisdom, love, kindness and integrity you bequeathed to me”
I stood to my feet and waved at the coffin. “You have a place in my heart, Sis.”
I turned, facing the congregation. They were all on their feet.
Sam crawled rapidly to where I stood, tugging at my long black gown.
I bent forward to pick him up.
Tears dropped on his cheek, he nuzzled against my chest.
He made a chattering sound as he waved his small hands at his mum’s coffin.
P.S: This memoir is fictional. Sorry I made it looked serious. Don’t tell me you’re crying. Lol.


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