Day Seveenteen: Leaving Without a Legacy

We all have anxieties, worries, and fears. What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears.

Today was unlike many other harmattan ridden Decembers in Nigeria. The air wasn’t crisp and dry and the sun did not shine like it was on a revenge mission to eliminate mankind. The sun was tucked behind a thick grey blanket of clouds and the atmosphere felt arid.

From a near distance I heard soft baritone sobs, a crying female in high pitched soprano later accompanied by an orchestra of wails. Inquisitive I walked towards this dully clothed multitude just close enough and in time to hear the conversation which ensued from two out of the lot. I guess they were both females but could not be certain; if they were they must have lost the character of their voices in the process of their mourning.

Lady (or man) 1: “She will be missed”
Lady (or man) 2: “She sure will. I only wish she could have achieved more. She had so much she wanted to achieve. She was always bubbling with ideas…”
Lady (or man 1) cuts in : “Yes she was. At a point I thought she was going to be the next big thing but she just stopped”. Pauses briefly to ponder “What happened to her?”

In that moment, my attention quickly shifted to a girl upfront who kept on beating her chest like a zulu man stroking a drum. She cried in a shrilled voice and the sound her mouth produced was rythmic; it was a sad tune. I lurched towards her with the intention of pacifying her but I found myself starring 6 feet down.  Via the glass casket I could see the one who was being laid to rest and from her looks I could tell that she will be missed by the ones she belonged to.

I walked away but some how could not compel my self to leave the vicinty. Over an hour later, the ceremony was done and the crowd had dispersed slowly. The grave diggers were gone and there was no one in sight. I felt a compelled by some force of nature to pay this total stranger my last respect and I hastily did. I was about to leave the site when I caught a glimpse of the head stone. It read:

That will be all folks!
Abba Grace-Mary (1987-2031)

Tears rolled down my face, through my outstretched arms landing on the ground.


2 thoughts on “Day Seveenteen: Leaving Without a Legacy

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