This is a hard saying. It’s becoming more usual by day….the older I get, the more the people I know leave. And the question became, when will it get to my turn? She was sitting beside me in a cab when a call came in. She picked and in seconds, gave a shrill cry….”her elder bro is dead”.
She should be in her late thirties. I don’t know her, but I felt shivers run down my spine. I have younger siblings, and immediately thoughts came flying in. I turned to her, she was crying. I told her I’m sorry for her pains. I felt responsible for her unhappiness. I was becoming depressed. I took her number, alighted at Artillery. I would call her later.
I reasoned within me. One day, it’ll get to my turn. It’s the hardest reality. So, Victoria my kid sis will hear of my death and give this shout…..noo….Vicky doesn’t shout. She keeps a quiet cry, get depressed, and sick. I hate these thoughts.
How would my siblings take the news, Jesu…My parents nko, friends, colleagues, church members, neighbours, clients, everyone……yeah…..and all my pictures littered all over Facebook, Instagram and Wassap statuses with the pitiful RIP. I wanted to ask Cubady how he coped with Chiemy’s death. That would have been so hard, because I feel it.
At YKC, I couldn’t find strength anymore. I was exhausted by my thoughts….hunger gone, sleep gone, totally unhappy. I had to walk home….I wanted something, someone, anything to clear my head.
I still asked myself the question again. What will I be remembered for? Sooner or later…..we all will be gone. The dye is cast, we’re all almost members of His……You prepared for the transition?