maker, Amaka Igwe who died on April 28th
2014.
Her daughter, Ruby, penned down an
emotional tribute on her facebook. She wrote;
Ground Zero +2
To God who made me I don’t know how it’s two
years today.
Mummy, you’re still not back?
I’m sure my memory will ease me back to a
semblance of normalcy, but it won’t ever get
there. I relive every hour. From midnight, or just
before, from nine pm on the 27th when we had
that three-hour call that ended with deathbed
type words and prophecies and affirmations
from you that I thought nothing of...
...to 8am, when we started our average of 5-8
daily calls (sometimes email) procedure.
That three-hour call was our farewell song. I
just didn’t know you were singing. You told me
you loved me, and I felt it in every fibre of my
being. You told me how proud you were of me.
You said you wouldn’t be there on my birthday.
We talked about the future, and the future
future, and unlike our usual co-daydreams you
managed to keep the focus on me and erase
yourself carefully out of it.
Eight (or so) brief good morning, this-is-what-
I’m-up-to calls, all the way to 4pm, when (I
think) the 5th or 6th call (who counts when you
think they will always come), when you called
to check in and make sure I was studying, and
give me your location, make me feel jealous all
over again because I was the minority, away at
school while you were with Dad and the boys…
…And say goodbye for the very last time. It
wasn’t even a proper goodbye. ‘I’ll call you
back’. Na so.
My spirit knew there was something wrong
when you didn’t call at 6pm. Or 8pm. So I call
you, and you don’t pick up. To distract myself I
launch into a long laugh/chat with a friend, and
then panic at 9pm when I talk about you so I
remember to call, and you still don’t pick up.
More panic. Then I am called to be informed of
a very out of the blue out of the way visit. And
then I know. Without knowing.
I run with the think horses not zebras approach.
I decide your phone has been stolen, and the
robber ate your sim card because he was
hungry after executing the crime, or better yet
was feeling guilty and decided to use the sim
card as the bread component of communion,
with freshly tapped palm wine as the other. I
decide your battery melted in the hot Udi sun.
any minute to apologize and pick up where we
left off. I prepped my pretend anger voice. I
denied what no one but my heart was telling
me.
I held out for all kinds of hope. Prayed the
craziest prayers. Bargained with God.
That you would wake me up in the morning
before my alarm. I believed that so much it was
hard getting to sleep that night, I was waiting
for the morning to come. Then it was all laid
out, and I couldn’t un-know. You were gone.
You were gone. You were gone. And you won’t
be calling me back.
They don’t have phones where you’ve gone.
Seeing your phone and all your belongings when
I got back home infuriated me. Then humbled
me. Do not store up earthly treasures…
Priorities.
If anything, God should have allowed that phone
follow you to heaven, with at least one Ankara
outfit, your glasses, that drum, and your gold
necklace that you wore forever. A heavenly
starter pack, to ease you into your new and
improved eternal life. Not so?
Last year I wrote about everything that was
supposed to be. I was still very angry at you.
Today, I am not that far away from anger, just
down the road. Maybe next year I'll be on a
different street.
Today is my Ground Zero Plus 2. 2 years ago
today, the thing I feared the most happened to
me. I lost my best friend; and I lost control. My
plans were shredded. The floor vanished under
me, and it started to simultaneously rain from
the ceiling. I fell, and fell, and fell, and I
reached my foundation.
I don’t have precise words for what I feel. It’s
never not going to hurt. I miss your full-frontal,
spontaneous, in-your-face, fierce love.
Sometimes I forget that you are gone, I really
do. I have happy moments, with friends and
family, I achieve something, I’m surprised, and I
receive something undeserved unexpectedly and
I reason that I can’t be this happy if you are
gone.
Then I look around for you to agree with me
and my neck almost goes 360 because you are
not here.
Purpose has however never been more
important. I feel awake.
You leaving has unlocked latent places in me
that I wish never had to exist and come to the
fore, but I will make the most of. I feel deeper.
I love the ones I love, much harder. I’m less
scared, of speaking my mind. I don’t want to
leave things left unsaid. I don’t want to leave
my life half-lived.
I’m scared more, because I have to think of my
future and my future future without you. I don’t
quite yet know how to exist in a world that you
aren’t in; new phases and whatnot. I feel
sometimes like a toddler someone yanked out
of her walker.
I can’t comprehend that I won’t see you see me
graduate anymore, and become a Barrister, and
write much more, and found things, and fulfill
my destiny, and get married, have kids, and
grand kids... So you mean you really won’t
come back?
My imagination cushions the impact. I have you
prepping Jesus for a close-up, shooting the
trailer for His return, with angels at the monitor,
Peter at the camera, Uncle Offor holding the
boom and you in the director’s chair yelling,
“Aaaction!”
I have you eyeing me when I’m about to say
something silly or do something stupid, or when
I refuse to eat humble pie and apologize for
doing said silly thing. I have you belly laughing
in unison, when something I know would make
us laugh makes me laugh.
I have you, in a parallel planet, doing the Senior
Status LLB like you said you would. I have you
dabbing, and thanking God you don’t have to try
and krump anymore. I have you virtually hugging
me, tightly, bone crushingly; as if to pull all my
scattered emotions back into order.
I have you in my heart, in a special chamber,
helping my heart beat with your drum, your
shorts, the vest and a huge smile.
I no longer think I have all the time in the world.
But I’m still learning there’s a time for
everything. I want to lean in so hard I’m half on
the table. And if there’s no table I’m building
one. Because life has never been shorter. And
because I can.
I love you deep. I love you bottomless. I love
you so much it scares me. You used to say you
loved me enough for both of us, I didn’t get it.
Now, wherever you are, whether you can or
can’t love me back, I love you enough for the
both of us too. Mamma mia. It’s my turn.
I didn’t know I would still be here, and still be
me, but I am. I miss you without words, none
are capable of articulating that emotion. Most
times it makes me want to curl up in a ball, and
not do anything at all. Sometimes, some days,
that’s exactly what I do.
But In this weakness I am strong. And it is still
well. Nothing else to say or do,
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