By Hazel
I wish I could attend my funeral and watch as I’m buried six feet under the ground I once walked on. I want to know the colour mummy will pick for the event. She’s going to pick a colour, I know. She’ll want to buy aso ebis but daddy will disagree and tell her not to forget I was just a child and children’s death are not celebrated. I want to see if mum will sew iro and buba, a loose gown or if she’ll sew that style she showed me on her phone last month.
I want to watch how she’ll cry for her only daughter. How she’ll roll on the ground and ask for people to prevent her from jumping in the grave with me. She’ll do all these things only because they are things a mother should do at her child’s funeral. She’ll hold my brothers close and beg them not to leave her like I did.
I want to see Derin’s face on that day. I want to be sure he regrets every bad thing he has done or said to me. I want to watch him cry and finally admit he loves me. I want to see the disbelief in his eyes. I know he wouldn’t accept the fact that I’m not coming back. I know he’ll miss me at his heels and on his bed. I know he’ll miss his naughty rat. I know he’s the only one that loved me.
And dad, I want to see the pain written all over him. I want to see him to clench his jaw and fist. I want to see the veins on his forehead and the anger in his eyes. Anger at mum that he’ll never direct at her. I never understood those two. I know dad will know I died because of mum. They will all know. But no one will say a thing. Life will go on. Without me, I want to watch Junior and Dayo talk and laugh in oblivion. They’ll be looking as I’m descended into the grave in awe. They’ll have no clue their big sister is never coming back. I’m happy they are not girls, it means they’ll live. Mum has nothing on them.
Oh my aunties, they’ll all be there, ready to cry and scream when there’s need to. Aunty Fola especially. She’ll roll on the ground with mummy. They’ll hold each other and sob. And whisper in each other’s ears that I’m dead because I didn’t take their advice.
Dad will watch them closely but will never ask what it is they’re talking about. He’ll leave before the funeral is over to the bar across town. There, he’ll drink in regret of all his terrible life choices. These choices include mum and the four of us. Luckily for him, I’ll be out of the picture.
Derin will be the first to throw sand on my coffin, I know. He’ll wish he hugged me those times I asked him to. He’ll cry in front of all his friends. He’ll say it for the very first time that he loves me and that I mean a lot to him. Sadly, I won’t be there to hear those words I’ve been dying to for the longest time.
Junior and Dayo will pack handfuls of sand and throw it at the coffin multiple times. It’ll be all fun and games for them. I wish for just one more chance to gather them in my arms and kiss their cheeks. They’ll run to Derin and he’ll take them to the car.
And mum, her tears will flow like water from the faucet. She’ll sprinkle sand on the coffin like salt on food and her tears will fall six feet and mix up with the sand. Onlookers will feel sad for her and tears will well up in their eyes too. But in her mind, mum will be saying I got what I deserved. She’ll say I should act like a girl in my other life and I should always listen to whoever my mother would be.
I wish I could be there but I know I can’t be. So, I write the last words on the sheet of paper.
Mum, wear whatever you wish to wear to my funeral. Tell them whatever you wish to about how I died. I know you can come up with something believable. And tell Derin it’s a pity he’ll realize he loves me too late. I have nothing to say to dad and I hope Junior and Dayo forget me soon enough. I don’t want to take too much of your time, I’ve been doing that since I was born. Bye.
I place the note on my bed, shut my eyes very tight and gulp down the drink. Death is more peaceful than you think.
Read the second part of the story here: http://www.ucjui.com/2020/09/17/i-wish-i-could-attend-my-funeral-part-2/
