Onwu di njo, eziokwu!

Death is inevitable, we are all aware, but what makes it evil is how it comes like a thief in the night. You can be talking and laughing with a loved one and the next minute, they're gone and gone for good. All you are left with are memories and after years and years have gone by, your memory starts to fail you. When you try to remember something and can't seem to get the details right, in this moment, you realize that the only thing you're left with, of your loved one, starts to leave you too. It hurts when you get to this point. When you can no longer recall events, details and conversations. Everything becomes so blurry, the voice you were once too familiar with starts to fade. In that moment, you get heartbroken all over again, the intensity of the grieve doubles. You feel a certain type of guilt that eats at you and makes you apologize to the one that's long gone. You feel sorry, you try to explain how it wasn't your intention, but they're not here, and I doubt very much that they are even angry.
"No", you say, "it's not intentional that I am forgetting these things" you think. "I didn't mean to push you to the back of my mind which has now made events warped when I try to replay them" you explain.

Nne oma!
You promised you wouldn't leave, you said you weren't going anywhere. You had so much planned for us but you're no longer here to fulfill any of them.

When the news of your demise came, I didn't cry, I couldn't cry, none of us did. I don't know if it was shock or that we were expecting it. I didn't see any of them cry. Bubu asked if you were never going to come back, and I answered "She's not coming back again". When it was time to go to bed, I cried, I cried so much that I had a headache after. The realization that I would never see you again hit me and hit me hard that I had a concussion, one that I recovered from only after you were laid to rest.

Inago!
What made the whole event painful was, it was almost three months since we last saw you, we were expecting you back home that day but you never came back. The last calls we had, I could hear how tired you sounded. I remember you saying "Pray for your mother, so she doesn't die too", after I had told you of the passing of my classmate's mum. I wish I had prayed and prayed intensely. I wish God had heard the little prayer I made, they were sincere.

I wish I called you more often, but it was hard for me. I knew you were suffering, and in great pains, but I couldn't do anything to help and it hurt. What more could your sixteen year old do other than cater for your younger children.
I was heart broken, not just for your passing but because of your 8 year old who could no longer enjoy the love of a mother, and your quiet 11 year old who hardly spoke about his feelings. Oooh, how about your 13 year old who would have no one to run to when he wants to complain about the stress of being at his father's business 6 days a week.

I had so much confidence that you wouldn't go so soon. I saw how you stayed up at night to pray and intercede on our behalf. I became so scared, who would wake up at 12 am to 3 am everyday to pray for us? Who would anoint our heads with olive oil while we slept and snored? Who would inconvenience us at night with sounds of prayers and cries.

Oh mummy, you went too soon.
The consolation I gave myself was, resting eternally will be so much better than the years of physical, mental and emotional turmoil you had to endure for us. I curse cancer, I curse cancer so much. It took your youth away, it took your joy, your strength, your peace of mind, your grace, your health, your life. Worst of all, it stole the joy and experience that came with eating the fruits of your labour.

I don't even see you in my dreams anymore, why? Why don't you come to say hi to me, to reprimand me of my wrong doings, to scold me, to tell me how proud you are of me, to warn me, why mummy?

Do you know big mummy cries whenever she speaks of you? I want to blame her for keeping you away during your lasts days, but I know she suffered seeing you in pains. I know she was in constant hurt seeing her only baby girl in so much pain. I know that's why she sort help from wherever was possible. I can't blame her because I know you'd have done the same for me.
When she cries, I can't cry, who would tell who sorry?

Do you know we were asked not to cry during your burial. We didn't cry, none of did. But big mummy wailed, oh, she cried so much that she left before you were laid.

Nnem oma
I hate to think of my wedding day, I try not to think of it because how can I? How can I be happy on that very joyous day when you won't be there? I don't even think about all those ceremonies, igba-nkwu, child birth, omugwo... whom am I going to call when I take in? Who would advice me on what to do and what not to do? Who would pamper me and rub my back ehn mummy? Who would make ofe-nsala for me like big mummy made for you? onye ga-akuzirim ka esi asụ ji?

I cried so much while writing this, I had procrastinated doing it but I had to.

You were loved Ujunwa, and you'll forever be remembered. You were so imperfect but that's what makes us human isn't it? I miss you so much, that I try not to think of you is not because I don't, but rather because I do not need the constant reminder of what has been lost.

Naa-n'udo.

Yours Love.
Nwa gi.