African StoriesEditor's ChoiceLife and General FictionNaija Stories

June 15

June 15 was the day. It is still fresh in my memory; the day they said the final goodbye; the day they shut their eyes against this wicked world; the day they left us to soak our hearts in pain and agony; the day they left us to eat our own tears.

But they broke the promise they made to us, I’ve found it so hard personally to forgive them. I remember the night they promised to be with us through thick and thin, the night they promised to always get us our odds and ends, but here they are being lowered into the catacomb.

They broke the great promise the moment we called and they paid deaf ears to our call, the moment we ruffled those clothes but their eyes remained shut against us. Here, they are being lowered into the earth where maggots and beasts of the earth shall feed on their skin.

If they had kept their promise, horsewhips wouldn’t have been used to make crisscrosses on my skin, weeping and wailing wouldn’t have been my daily bread. Pain has become that twin of mine that nobody sees. I see it, I eat it, I feel it, it bears the name of anguish and torment. It whispers to me, it has taken flesh. It says that I should grab the rope in the ceiling and end it; he says that I should take my self off this world of suffering, to free my self into a world where I will know no pain.

Dear kid brother, I know that you’re strong, I know that you’ll find your way when the time is ripe. I know that you’ll tow the path of success and succeed

So this is goodbye from me.

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