Ng'ash: “Relationship guru, uko aje? I’ve run into a few problems with my girl; we haven’t been in good terms this week and I would like to make amends."
Me: "Hehehe, what did you do this time… ? How can I help?"
Ngash: "Naaah, you know how ladies are... Anyway I would like to do something special for her. You know just to get this behind us.."
This was the last conversation we had on Thursday prior to his tragic accident on Saturday morning. To be quite honest, life hasn’t been the same ever since. It’s different. Every time I go behind the wheel I feel some type of way.
Here goes an attempt to recant the experience and later on maybe what are the few things I’ve learnt:
We got to Naksvegas a day later. My uncle, (his dad ), looking exhausted from the dim in his eyes, looked at me and said “It’s going to be ok. We can go see Him tomorrow if you want?” We sat together in silence in the living room. A distance apart of course. The grief was so thick in the atmosphere you could almost touch it.
On one corner, my family gathered together in silent whispers while on the other, some just wanting to be alone in silence.
My uncle scrolling through his phone looked at me. “Come”, he said. On the screen of his phone were tragic pictures of the carnage. As he scrolled further, my cousin stained with his own blood from the chin downwards. He was light in complexion contrasted like paint on the canvas. Hours before he lost the fight due to a lot of factors that played out that day, I would rather not talk about those here.
The next morning, an expected avalanche of visitors started storming in from morning as decisions about preparations were being made on the fly here and there.
In the buzz of activity, uncle and I crossed paths. He looked at me, paused, looked aside, and said “twende! (Lets go) ”. And just like that, we went towards his pickup truck and fired ablaze the engine.
From that moment, my whole day of indecision came to a standstill. The drive seemed to take ages. We took a detour to run a few errands first.
While at it, he asked me, “Are you ready to do this? We could go back home If you like?” .. "Of course, I’m ready", I said, all the while remembering Jesus’ story going to see His friend 3 days after he had slept.
We took a turn to town into the avenue where the hospitals were and slowly went into war memorial morgue. The attendant rolled Him out of what seemed like a closet for those who have slept. It had a large wooden door and compartments inside. There he lay, lifeless. The mystery of life and death. His skin a totally different color.
The curtains have fallen on his dreams. And for us all is left is but hopes of what would be. The silent screams of a young dream so loud. It’s almost as if you could hear the cry. On our faces utter regret and what ifs….. (To be continued)
This is sad 😔😔