THE NIGHTS GET LONELY SOMETIMES

Hey, Akwasi here again, just in case you had forgotten. It has been a while since we were last here.

Suzyo and I had something in common. Both of us were orphaned at very young ages. I lost my Father to the angry stampede that killed a hundred and twenty five people at the Accra Sports Stadium in Ghana in 2003. It was terrible, but if I ever tell that story it won’t be today. My mum felt that she would never recover if we continued living in that space and hence she filed for a transfer and that’s how we found ourselves in Lesotho.

This is about Suzyo anyhow. He lost his mother and a few months later he wrote about it. Here it is:

                                                                                                                     19^th February, 1962

Dear diary,

Where has my starlight gone? Dark is the day. How can I find my way home? Mum, I feel so alone. You promised that you would always be there when it got hard. Where are you now?

They warned me about this during the funeral. They warned me that it would be hard. Deep down I knew that they were right. I just didn’t think it would be this hard. I have tried for so long to block the feelings of the pain but I can’t hold on anymore. Pain demands to be felt. To keep repeating this pattern will only prolong it. Why keep the pain underneath when in truth it must rise?

It was not that I didn’t understand what was happening because of denial or for lack of emotion or whatever reasons people give that I did not cry. I understood perfectly well everything that was happening around me. I was not at the hospital when she died but I knew for sure that she was gone. I had heard from the people who were there that for sure she was gone. But there is a distinct way in which everything around you, call it the universe, just screams at you to tell you that you have lost something or someone.

At first, I saw her at the mall. She was wearing her long and loose greenish-blue gown made of soft, satiny fabric. I was about to walk faster to hide because if she saw me she was going to say that I was supposed to be at school and not at the mall. But when I looked again I saw that it was not her. It was not her this time not because she was somewhere else, at home for instance, but because it couldn’t possibly be her. And the pain of that stung.

The second time I was coming home from a rough day at work. I was thinking of how I was going to tell everyone about how it was when I began to imagine how they would all be reacting. I saw my young sisters reaction, I saw my elder brothers, I saw my fathers and then I thought of my mothers and remembered that it wasn’t going to be there.

The other time a family friend was taking me to school. That was different. Mum always took me to school. But this time around she wasn’t taking me not because she was busy with something but because she couldn’t possibly be the one to take me.

It is times like this that make the pain resounding. It’s times when I remember simple things like this that I rush to the nearest secluded place and let my eyes well with sadness. I try every time not to ask why but the question demands to be asked. And it almost always never comes with an answer.

Then I am reminded of the times when God said to be strong and courageous, not to be terrified because He goes with me, that He will never leave me nor forsake me.  I have seen Him stay true to that over these past few months and even the years prior to mums passing. Her family and friends would come to visit her when she was sick. They would pray over her and most of all allowed themselves to be the means through which God answered. They contributed what they had and mum was taken to a hospital. She had three years added to her life because of what God did through them. I look back now and see the value of that three years. Oh what I would give to have even just one more day with her.

God also didn’t leave us high and dry without her. I payed close attention. I wanted to see if even through this valley God was still there holding me. A few months before she passed my brother was given a job and now he helps out at home. A few months before she passed I was given a scholarship to study in university. Through everything I go through in this life, good or bad, I have learnt to look around me to see that God is still there. If I look closely, if I pay attention, I will see Him. And now I am persuaded that neither death no life, no things present or things to come can separate me from the love of God. Far be it from me to not believe even when my eyes can see. I'll call on Him in my time of trouble, He will save me and I will glorify Him.

When I pray now, I ask God to say hi to her for me. I ask Him to tell her a few things for me if it isn’t too much to ask. I ask Him to tell her that I still think about her every day, that life is not the same without her and that one day, if I stand true in my faith like she did, I will sit with her there and tell her every little thing that she missed after she passed. I will tell her that after she passed I carried a polaroid I had of her and I in my wallet everywhere I went. I will tell her of how I finally understood why she taught me to always look after my young sister. I will tell her I am sorry that I never said thank you enough. I will tell her that I am sorry for all the wrong things that I ever said and did to her. I’ll also tell her that after she passed I started going to the gym because she wouldn’t be there to say I would have a big body with small legs. And I’ll let her know that even though death took her away she was always my hero.

A friend of mine once told me that with time only the good memories remain. I think she understood it when Shakespeare said “praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.” I have heard that love is a divine gift. I think sorrow is also, for in its enormity is the proof of what we used to be. I may not understand why it had to be this way but farther along I’ll know all about it. Farther along I’ll understand why. So I’ll cheer up and live in the sunshine. I’ll understand it all by and by.

For your eyes only,

Suzyo Tilabilenji.