PLEASE! ALLOW ME TO GO HOME

Death nno!

I have waited by you for many years, even though you will stay only a moment.

Your special chair has been placed in front of my door, dusted and cleaned.

I, your servant, kneel beside it, waiting, hoping that you will sit and stay this time.

Please don’t go!

Take me with you for I want to go home.

What does a hundred years look like? People wonder.

I know, for I am. 100 years old today.

Nobody asks, what it feels like?

Homeless, I would have replied.

My body is here, but my spirit travels.

“Edward!” I call, but he is gone. “Is Adaline around?” No one answers. Elizabeth has left for there is silence.

People come and go. They greet me and smile, but they are not my home.

A young girl once asked me to smile too.

In her hand was a square shaped object that did the work of a mirror when she held it up.

Click!

It froze us in time at the tap of her finger and she showed me the result.

“Nne Nne, you are beautiful”, she enthused.

Beautifully toothless, I thought.

I look like a man. Like Edward before he was gone.

People say a husband and wife absorb one another’s looks over the years and resemble with time.

Hmm.

These deeply carved lines on my face do not ache as much as the pain from missing home.

Which is why I am here kneeling beside you today.

Don’t enter the house where that two year old child, who grows paler each day lives.

She hasn’t even built her home yet.

Now I, Uloma, I have seen my home come and go.

If I go now, they will beat the drums and slaughter the cow.

They will sing, Nne Nne has gone home and rested, finally.

Death, welcome!

Don’t make the wrong choice again today.

Allow me to go home, please.

 

 

Sign up to receive news on art, literature, and travel in Nigeria and select world locations.

Take the first step and sign up! Don't delay.

Let's hear your story

%d bloggers like this: