In Memorial
One would think that time would make the pain less or fill the hollow. It's same and I miss you always Still remember mum's scream As neighbors lifted you And I stood at the corner numb And something kept blinding me I couldn't quite see clearly. We ran, Chika and I, to Mary Slessor Hall to call Nkechi. We ran all the way bare foot and in the most ridiculous sleep wear. She asked that we go home so she joins mum in the hospital. On our way home, Chika asked me to pray. She handed me a rosary and I wondered why she had two. I prayed and prayed just like you taught but you left anyway. It was meant to be a really happy day but you left. It was Njideka Maduagwu's matriculation but you left anyway. Mum was meant to cook for a crowd. We were meant to dance all day but that meant nothing cos you left papa. I remember the first handful of wet brown sand thrown on your casket. It was so loud and I shook where I stood. Ada stood behind me and kept