DEAR ME, (PT2)

(PT2)

June, 18

Dear ME,

Sorry for waking you up. I just finished saying the Divine Mercy prayer. I like to pray when I can. It gives solace to my heart. Sometimes when I am troubled, I say the rosary like Abum taught me to. I continue to pay until I am at peace with the world again. That is very hard to achieve so you will likely find me praying in my free time, or writing.

I had that dream again. The one where the catechist wife dies while I was holding her hands on her sickbed. It was a sad event. I had tried to forget it but it was like trying not to breathe. I could not. While in primary school four, I became friends with the wife of our parish catechist, Abumchukwu. The name means, ‘am I God?’ I am still puzzled about the meaning of that name. She was not God so why should they name her that question of a name?

I did not let it pass.

‘Abum, why did your mother name you Abumchukwu?’ I would ask her then while keeping my head to one angle. She was a tall black woman. She was also very beautiful. She had a very fantastic set of teeth and he smiles had the power to change the course of my day.

She had laughed and patted my fidgeting hands which I snatched away immediately and told me, ‘my child, you and your many questions! They named that to remind everybody that nobody is God.’

I was puzzled further. Why do people need a reminder that they are not God? You are not God, why should you be reminded that you are not? It was very funny because no one was God. And those that think that they might be God needed a good slap, not a reminder. It was very stupid to me and I did not want to tell her that. I still wanted to clarify something about the name though.

“Abum, why didn’t they name you Aburumchukwu?” It means I am not God. That was a better name. The person would know point black that he was not God and would never be.

‘They do not name people that Ozo.’ She said that with so much authority that I wanted to laugh. She was sure that no one has that name as if she knew all the names in the world.

‘Why then do they name people Abumchukwu?’

‘They do that because it is allowed.’

‘Why is it allowed and not…?’

‘Ozo, I am not in the mood for this endless quiz. Come and help me with this melon and I will tell a story about the tortoise and the elephant.’ She was laughing as she said it. I went.

That was how I spent time with Abum. She was the one that told me that God had asked the tortoise to carry the world on his bald head. I was puzzled again. Why would God who was merciful and kind ask a small tortoise to carry the world, all of it on his head? It was such a shame that she had to die. I do believe that goodness might get you dead faster because God seems to want the good ones returned to him before they could go bad. That was my theory.

I will tell you more about Obum when I write next. Until then I remain your friend,

Ozoemena

Before Vespa, 12 august,

Dear me,

Last time, I had stopped while I was telling the story of the tortoise. I had asked why God who was merciful and kind would ask a small tortoise to carry the world, all of it on his head. She did not know any logical answer to it and it was not in the library. She told me so many strange stories. I loved all of them and I remembered them all very vividly, just like I remembered when she became sick.

Abum became sick. At first, she was not well, then she was not feeling fine, then she became sick, then she became very, very sick. She had two boy children named, Obumnaeme and Ebelechi which means, ‘am I the one doing’ and ‘mercy of the lord.’ Obum and his brother were neither my enemy nor were they might friends. They were just my tormentor. When I pass those who are my tormentors, they usually sing for me. It went like this, ‘Ogbanje ukwu udala………’ that means, ‘changeling of the apple tree’. When they sing that, I would have so much pain in my heart that I would fear that I would just burst but I do admit the song had a nice rhythm.

When they took Abum to the hospital, the quack doctor gave her paracetamol and vitamin C. I knew that she may die so I prayed to God not to take her from me. I begged him to let Abum live. You see, Abum was in so much pain and agony that it would have been more humane to ask God to take her. She cried a lot and held the right side of her stomach all the time. She was in so much pain. I then begged God to make her death fast and swift. He answered my prayer all too soon.

I was coming back from school when they asked told me Abum wanted to see me immediately. I went to her house straight. When I came, she told me to sit beside her on her sickbed. I did. Her husband left the room for us. He did not like me much.

“Ozo,” she said and gasped with pain immediately. I folded my head and look at the head of her bed, I knew she was in pain and that she was suffering. I told her not to talk so that the pain might reduce. She refused.

“I have to say it Ozo. I am in so much pain that it will be a joy to finally die.” She said that with a full-blown smile.

“Do not die Abum. Please, do not die. I don’t want you to die.” I said desperately. I wanted to touch her but could not bring myself to.

She smiled in her pain. I was fascinated. How could she smile at a time like this? ‘I have to go. I cannot go on like this. It is killing me alive.’

If I could smile, I would have at that moment. She made dying so easy and logical.

“Ozo, you are a good boy. Do not let people make you believe any other thing. The government has promised to give scholarships to any pupil who has distinctions in all his papers, you need to study hard so that you can get it. When you get, you will be sent to a secondary school. It is a good one. When you reach there, you must not forget what you are there to do. Study hard and become the very best in your class. I have confidence in you. I know you will do it. Oh! How I wish you were my child!” She closed her eyes and water sipped out of the corner of her eyes.

“I will do all that Abum. I promise but you have to live to see it. Please, do not die.’ I begged her. My voice was neutral with no emotion but Abum knew what I was going through. She cried for me.

“I must Ozo. My spirit is already leaving me but just know I will be watching over you.” And she died.

My heart stopped for a whole ten seconds before starting with a painful beat that sounded entirely too loud to be normal. I felt like my heart was stuffed with foam. I thought that it would burst like Akpaka in the hot sun. She was the mother I never knew. The friend Jesus talked about to me, the rock that was my pillar. I thought then that I must surely die. No one feels the kind of pain I was feeling and lived through it. The pain had talons and claws and it was clawing at me inside. It was like someone was squeezing out the water of my heart. I did not shed tears. I did not know how to but on the inside, I silently wailed.

I came out and told the people that she was dead. Obum, Ebelechi and many others rushed in to confirm it. They bushed me down while rushing. I was numb all over my body. I stood up and started walking out of the horrible place with my heart so heavy, it must have slowed me down.

.Mr Ibe, the catechist, looked at me with hate and contempt. He pointed at me and said very loud and clear, the words that I still hear every now and then, ‘you devil! You have killed her. You killed her with your evil wiles. I told her to leave you that you were an evil child but she would not listen. Now you have killed her like you did your mother, your grandmother and Ikenna. You belong in the evil forest.’

They all started shouting at me. They were pushing and poking me and calling me vile names. My heart grew so heavy and more painful. It was like a Monday hammer was buried in the heart of my heart. I still mourned Abum. I did not cry or talk. I did not know what to say or to whom to say it. I left them. They were still poking, pushing and calling me foul names when I left. I received a slap and some punch. I did not care or notice. I left them with a sad face. I later found out that she died of a burst appendix. Of all the things to die of!

You must feel sad for me. That is not my aim. I, however, kept my promise to Abum. I followed her advice to a T and that is how I came to be in C.I.C high school today, writing to you, or me, just writing.

I have to stop. I will write again. Until then, I am still your friend.

You know me…

Ozoemena Henry