Monthly Archives: February 2016

Death Will Die Someday

Today is your day, Damilola Adisa or supposed to be your day. In my heart, it’s always is and I can’t but remember you. I didn’t want to remember, so that I won’t be sad but I couldn’t because that would be like you were never here, like death has conquered us, conquered you and all that you were. It hasn’t. So, let death not be proud of this small victory for it only lasts a while. This reminds me of one of my favourite poem by John Donne:

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Five years ago you passed away and you left an empty place in my heart; a place that nobody can fill. It was the saddest and most painful day I’ve had in my life. That day, after I had tried so hard to contact you, I logged into my Facebook account to check your wall, and there I found a post left by someone of your death. I was shattered into a million pieces, worse than when I met you. I couldn’t even mourn you because I was beside someone close to both of us who was also fighting for her life. I buried the pain in my heart crying inwardly, going through the rituals in a daze. I couldn’t say anything to anybody until weeks later, it was the hardest moment of my life. I couldn’t comment on the post because she would find out too. It is a memory that I cannot erase from my mind, neither from my heart. I couldn’t be there for you in your last days. It was a journey I have not returned from.

People say that time heals all wounds, but today I can tell you that’s not true. Till today, I feel the same pain in my heart that I felt that day. I’m still finding it hard to accept that you are no more maybe because there was nothing to get the closure from, nobody; you didn’t give me any clue you just vanished. You left me wondering.
The only difference is, today I have decided to think only of the good times we had together, they were the best times. Though much younger you taught me how to love, you opened my heart, you taught me that family is deeper than blood. You kept tugging at my heart until it embraced yours.
When I met you, you needed so much love, you needed a family. I needed to heal from a broken heart, and together we healed.
I wanted no human company, just my books. You were always telling me how books can’t give love, friendship or warmth; and I’ll say that’s the point 🙂 They don’t need anything, I don’t have to give anything and they wouldn’t complain. And then you would sit right in front of me, dragging your feet and grumbling and until I’d get tired and eventually gave up. You’d clap and smile. And then you’d insist that I helped you with so many things until I could no longer resist you.
I brought you to my family and you accepted us as your family, the one you never had but always wanted. You were always eager to please everyone, to help, to do the chores though you didn’t know how. You liked to be praised when you did it well, but hated being scolded when you didn’t. At first, we would let you go free when you were wrong so as not to hurt you, then we stopped because you wanted a family, a family shouldn’t let one do as one pleases. And because you were such a gem too, you understood the love in being corrected and adjusted. You loved to cook though a very bad cook.
I thought you all you wanted to learn from a mother and a big sister. But you didn’t wait to show me all you promised to become. You didn’t write the book you promised, you left with the biggest story. You didn’t wait to be all that your mother wanted you to be. We both failed to keep our promises.
Now that you left without saying goodbye, I’ll do all that I can to keep the memories alive. I’ll remember you like you were, always happy, free, innocent beautiful in and out. I’ll remember you with longings and with joy.

Rest on Sis, till we meet to part no more. Rest on Damilola mi, until death would be defeated forever and we shall weep no more.
May we meet again.


My Comfort

Tales of endless suffering
Of neighbours and strangers
The lives that dropped unripe
Do not my burden lighten
If I could lessen someone’s woe
It would comfort my soul

Not About Me

On a low stool a pensive housewife sits
Out of this realm lost in her thoughts
On the swing a girl sweetly sings
Of life and love and ever after
Old or young need a little of all
Outside in the yard another hums her tune
Off and on she teases her brother who oils his bike
Once in a while his eyes dart here and there
Over the fence, towards the door
On the seventh darts he whistles loud ‘n long
One by one they bounce out of every corner
Orange, blue, yellow in diverse shirts
Onto the bike he jumps and pedals
Over and over; round and round
One after the other they repeat the cycle
Over and over amidst cloud of dust
On the swing the girl claps and hoots
On the low stool now stood a child of three
On her left her mother smiles in glee
Of the joy that childhood brings

*Every lines of this poem starts with the first letter of my name, but it’s not about me.