Of Loss and Death

I passed by my church and a funeral service was taking place. I did not know the deceased, but I still felt a piercing pain deep inside of me. As I walked by, they were singing 'aheza mu ijuru roughly translating to "the beautiful place heaven". This song is typical for funerals, to the extent of being weird when sung for other occasions.

More than two people die each day, according to Statistics, yet I was directly acquainted with death at age sixteen. Yes, I had a cousin who passed away when I was little, but I barely remember her. And in the occurrence of the 1994 genocide, I might have lost family, but I do not know them, and neither was I told their stories. In primary, a very close friend lost his mother, and then his father; but we couldn't really comprehend what it meant. He was happy he could skip school and play ball.

The first person I lost was my maternal grandmother. She died in October of 2014. The funeral took place on a Monday, and I was doing end of term exams- Math to be precise. I was kept in Oblivion so as to protect me from an emotional breakdown that might threaten my performance in exams. I learned this multiple weeks later. It was a Saturday morning, and we were doing a general cleaning of the house. They casually mentioned the funeral, and I almost thought it was someone else. I asked for clarifications, and every word I was told seemed like a sword piercing through my heart.

My mom kept telling me that it was for the better, for she was suffering no more; but I couldn't stomach it. It still felt wrong. How could she pass away just like that. I wanted to know her a little bit more. I regretted all the times I couldn't visit her, all the stories she might have told me. I let my tears fall in torrents, cleansing me of the pain of my loss. I knew I would forever be hunted by the "could have been's". Since then, I haven't stepped at where used to be her home. I don't know where she was buried, and the only memories I have is the pictures of her.

Less than a year later, in June 2015, I lost my other grandmother. I had visited her in January of the same year, and she was sick in the hospital. We thought it was something that would pass, just like many of the diseases she had had. The Sunday before her death was visiting day. My mother told me she couldn't come, for she was visiting her at the hospital. I was frightened​, I prayed to God to spare her soul, but five days later she passed away. The school administration told me the news so bluntly, I was breath taken. I found solace in my best friend who hugged the brokenness out of me.

The funeral was emotionally​ draining. It was my first time to attend a funeral, and seeing the open casket heightened my sense of loss. The songs they sang during the service broke my heart even more. They choir members were overly energetic, singing songs that seemed happy in my perspective. I felt like losing my hearing right then. The hardest part was when she was lowered into the ground. I took the flower I was holding on to her coffin, and poured some soil on top. This was the end. There would be no more grandma,  no more yearly visits to her home, and no more taking pictures with her.

After this, I hardened up. I told myself not to be too much affected by the losses. I would understand that the time had come for them to leave, despite the fact that we did not want it to go that way. When I heard of my sister's godmother death, I pretended to be fine with it. I cried myself to sleep that night. I was in a middle of an anxiety crisis when I was told that my classmate passed away. I first felt guilty for all the nonsense I told her, for not being there for her when she was sick. I later had a denial stage and finally a breakdown and acceptance.

These past days, I experienced multiple losses: those of family of friends, friends of family and potential friends. It is something I would have preferred to avoid- skip altogether. However, where there is life, there is death. No matter how much we are unprepared to let go of those dear to us, a time will come when they will leave us. Like life, death is incomprehensible. It comes in so different colors, we shall never get used to it. No matter how many people we lose, we shall let those tears fall like torrents for new losses. And a time will come when we shall depart this word too, leaving behind tears and sadness.