Yesterday

 

 

It was a double blow for me yesterday. I came back from work at night absolutely famished. And then, my brother gave me the news, "Ugoo, you know that hen? Omee ka onye ọchá? She died today". 

You know, until yesterday, I didn't know I was capable of missing an animal, much more one that isn't necessarily a pet. Yes, I can understand I have not been such a good bearer of people's absence, especially people I am close to. Of course, I miss a people a lot. But until okukọ onye ọchá died, I hadn't missed any animal in my whole life. My mum has hens too, and sometimes they also die. As a matter of fact, we even eat some ourselves; even though I do hate the point where they are being killed, wishing on some of those days that we didn't need to kill to eat, but I never missed them. Why was okukọ onye ọchá's own different? Maybe it's because I watched it grow, maybe it's because it's the first time I have taken a special notice of any animal; I don't know. 

To quench my pain, I decided to write a poem in its honour. That was the usual me, always pouring out in writings. As part of my mourning ritual, I wrote in hunger, waiting to drain my grieving heart before going ahead to eat. I knew I would eat, that was certain; for this sort of grieve was not the type to take away my appetite. But then, I also knew, that until I wrote the very last word of that poem, I would never be settled enough to eat. 

Thus, I finished the rough work of my poem, and off I went to get my food. On top my food was a little piece of chicken too, because yesterday, I felt like doing some extra for myself. Aye, I wanted to give me a treat, not minding how small or big. When I sat down to eat my food with my phone in my hands, I thought I should go online to get some generic heads-up. I wasn't expecting to see the results posted on my class group chat, but then I saw it. And immediately, the food in my mouth turned sour. The whole taste gone in a twinkle of an eye. And of my very taste bud, a sudden strange fault developed. No matter how I forced it, the food only stopped in my mouth. I got tired of forcing, tried to eat my piece of chicken, but that too had lost its taste. It kept mixing up with the blub in my throat struggling with my spirit for who would be the first quitter. I wanted the blub off my throat, but that would mean breaking down in tears, and in a period when exam is almost at hand, crying was obviously killing myself. 

I didn't cry, but maybe it would have been better if I did, because the actual reason I had prevented me from crying was not working. I was still very sad. And I couldn't sleep. So that in the morning, I wore a very tired look, went for lecture late, and lost a much portion of my cheerful disposition. 

Now, I am here today, and I know I am still sad, but I am trying all I can. I am trying to be strong, to be there for myself, for the fact remains that, no one is really there for you other than you. 

To everyone passing through thesame pain and more, I hope you try too, as I am trying. And in the end, we can only and hope and pray, that all our work do not end in vain. 

From a fellow grieving heart,

Ugoo.