KENECHUKWU
"Hello," Kene said with a voice that had been cracked from crying.
"Hi mum," Ifechukwu responded.
"Hi, baby," Kene replied.
"I really don't know what to say," Ifechukwu said.
She paused for a while.
"I just wanted to say… I'm sorry. I know that I don't know what it feels like to lose an elder sister considering this is the second time you're losing yours," Ifechukwu explained.
"Baby, a huge part of me has been taken away and I feel empty," the pain in her voice could not have been overemphasized. "I just can't imagine why this would happen to me. You know I thought it was a dream at first, and that I would wake up from it. I begged God to just let it be that maybe they made a mistake and that she would wake up soon but till today, my sister, your aunt, has not called to check up on me and as a new day dawns, it becomes more clear that I will never see her again," Kene started sobbing.
"Mum, please, I don't want you to cry. Please," Ifechukwu felt so bad to hear her mother like that.
There was silence between them for a while.
"I wasn't in support of this surgery but what could I have done when we thought there was a go-ahead from above?"
"I wanted to ask. She told me that she was okay and ready to go home a day before I got the news. I don't understand what happened. How did it happen? Ifechukwu asked.
"Baby, I don't even understand. You know it's been two weeks since they got out the fibroid off her. Then, a day before she died, she started acting weird. She was screaming and asking them to take her home because she felt fine and was tired of staying in the hospital."
"Yes. I heard her saying that when I called Brother Oluchi. They said the doctors told them that she wasn't fit to leave yet but she kept screaming in the background that she wanted to leave and that she felt okay. That nothing was wrong. I got scared, Mum. I know Aunty Monica to be a fireball but that day, there was something different about her. She sounded extremely and unnecessarily aggressive," Ifechukwu remarked.
"I felt that way too. As a doctor in Dublin, her husband said that it might be an infection that had gotten into her system but no one took him seriously. They kept saying it was spiritual," Kene continued.
"What are you saying?" Ifechukwu sounded befuddled.
"Her husband insisted they moved her to FMC in Owerri. That was where she breathed her last breath. The doctors there confirmed what her husband had said to be true. The previous hospital she was in didn't have the types of equipment to spot that she had actually contracted an infection. So, before they could examine where the infection had gotten to, she gave up the ghost," Kene explained.
"Oh Jesus," Ifechukwu muttered.
There was silence for a while. Kene closed her eyes as if reminiscing.
Ifechukwu broke the silence, "If only she had agreed to be flown abroad. I don't know, Mum. I don't know. Just maybe, maybe she would have stood a chance," Ifechukwu uttered.
Kenechukwu cleared her throat, "There are so many people I blame for her death."
It was in the middle of April, a very sunny, bright and beautiful Saturday, although the rain had plans to join in the party. It didn't change the reality that it was the day before Ifechukwu's birthday. Ifechukwu had left her house at Ijanikin in the early afternoon to Ifeyinwa's place at Shomolu because she had plans to spend her birthday with her since they were the only ones from their family living in Lagos.
When she arrived, she was red, exhausted and sweaty as she had taken the bus. Ifeyinwa received her warmly. The ladies reconnected physically. Ifechukwu found her way to the room to drop her bag and freshen up while Ifeyinwa continued her cooking in the kitchen.
When Ifeyinwa was done cooking, she dished their food and took it to the room. It was a one-bedroom flat, and although it was small, it was also nicely furnished and very fancy. She put the tray of fufu and egusi soup on the bed and left the room to get a bowl of water for washing their hands. Ifeyinwa returned with the bowl, she dropped it on the floor and sat down opposite Ifechukwu.
Ifechukwu face lit up. She was blushing.
"See her face. You are blushing, right?" Ifeyinwa asked her.
"Of course, you made my favourite and oh my God, it looks so sumptuous and I bet it'll be so delicious because what are all these animals doing here?" Ifechukwu commented.
Ifeyinwa laughed, "let's see then," Ifeyinwa stated.
They washed their hands and dug into the food.
"Mmmmmh. I said it. This is so nice. Thank you," Ifechukwu said.
"Like Aunty Monica's right?" Ifeyinwa asked.
Ifechukwu's face turned pale. Of course, the feelings that came with that name had not been overcome yet. They had just been disguised with a false smile and Ifeyinwa knew that.
"Yes. Like Aunty Monica's," Ifechukwu responded, faking a smile.
Ifechukwu exhaled and put the already folded fufu in her mouth.
"Listen, I called you out here to come and celebrate your birthday even if you didn't want to because I know that that is what our aunt would want. She would want you to have fun and be happy and celebrate that another year has been added to your life here on earth," Ifeyinwa said to her.
"A year that she isn't here to see," tears filled Ifechukwu's eyes.
Ifeyinwa swallowed hard, "Yes, that's true. She is not… she is not here physically but she is here in our hearts, in your heart because I know you loved her more than us all," she paused. "I am not saying that you shouldn't mourn. I am not saying that you should pretend that she isn't gone or that it doesn't hurt. What I am saying is that if you keep going the way you have been going, you'll hurt yourself in a way that you won't be able to come back from. You've been through so much grief just because of this already. Don't let it consume you totally. Please, my love," Ifeyinwa informed her and exhaled deeply.
Ifechukwu lowered her head for a while and then, she raised it. She wiped the tears that had already dropped with the back of her palm.
"I will try. At least I'm here for now and I promise you that tomorrow, we will have so much fun that all of this would disappear for a while," Ifechukwu assured her.
"Yes, and you won't post her today or tomorrow or for as long as you are here," Ifeyinwa gave her an am I clear look.
"Okay," Ifechukwu uttered with a smile.
They resumed eating. Ifechukwu raised her head to scrutinize Ifeyinwa. Ifeyinwa noticed the gaze and so she looked at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.
Ifechukwu clicked her tongue, "You know I've been looking at you ever since I came here and I don't think I'd be wrong to say that you look awkward."
"Awkward, how?" Ifeyinwa inquired.
"Everyone knows that I'm the second tiniest person in the house after the last baby of the house. So I'm confused. Are you trying to drag the position with me? Why do you still look slim? I thought you might have gained back some weight by now," Ifechukwu posed.
"You think it's only you and Zimuzo that love good things?" Ifeyinwa asked laughing but Ifechukwu didn't think it was funny.
"It's not funny. You look sick and unlike you. What is wrong?" she demanded.
Ifeyinwa stopped laughing and washed her hands. Ifechukwu's gaze didn't turn from her. She bit her lips and then she returned Ifechukwu's gaze.
"It came back,' she told her.
"It did? I thought you were still on anti-depressants. How come it's back?" Ifechukwu seemed so worried.
"I'm better now, trust me."
"But you do not look okay. At least not to me," Ifechukwu said.
IFEYINWA
The messages that kept popping into her phone broke her heart and even if she wanted so badly to ignore them or not open them, she just couldn't resist. She knew her family had been shaken in a way. She played Ifesinachi's voice note and it sent painful chills down her spine.
She clicked on the record button immediately after she listened to it and started recording, "Ifesinachi, do not do that. Are you listening to me? Don't do that. How were you supposed to know that this would happen? Did anyone pray for this to happen? Please, baby, do not do that. Trust me, you didn't do anything wrong. At least you had it in mind to visit her," she paused to sniff back her tears. "God sees your heart. Guys, let's put ourselves together. If we are all like this, how do you think Mum would be feeling? We have to be strong for her. She just lost another sister. Let's… let's take it easy. Okay? Let's be…," the phone dropped from her hand but she didn't pick it up.
"What am I doing? I don't even have the strength to console myself and here I am trying to give consolation to my younger ones. Who am I kidding?" She thought to herself.
She stood up and headed straight for her wardrobe, screaming. Still screaming, she banged the wardrobe so hard that the right swing door pulled out from its hinges. Slowly, she pulled away from the wardrobe and fell to the floor. She couldn't cry. She just sat there laughing maniacally while her breath shook.
"What is your problem?" a male voice asked her.
Ifeyinwa doesn't look up from her bag. She doesn't respond.
"I am asking you a question. Or do you like coming here? Do you like the way these emotions make you feel?"
"I don't know," she replied without thinking about the question. She seemed to have lost contact with the physical world. Her appearance was disarranged and dull.
"Look, I am sorry about your aunt but it may seem as though you let her death hurt you too much and it is bringing back what we thought you had overcome. We have worked so hard to help you beat this," the psychiatrist stated.
She looked into his face, "I had so many fears and the death of a family member was one of them. Tell me, how do I face that, let alone conquer it knowing that one of my fears has come to pass? There is nothing stopping others from actualizing too," She said softly and looked down at her bag again.
"Look at me. Ifeyinwa, look at me," the psychiatrist demanded but Ifeyinwa doesn't bulge.
He grinned calmly. He stood up from his seat and walked across to her. He sat at the edge of the table beside her.
He exhaled, "Ifeyinwa, what has happened to you is very terrible and I am sorry," he told her.
Ifeyinwa looked at him.
"What has happened has happened and you trying to let depression and anxiety eat deep into you again after everything will be a foolish thing to do. Ask yourself if these feelings will bring her back or if this is what she would want for you. I know you will find the answer deep within you and if you decided to be here today, it means that somewhere in your heart, you do not want those feelings. You want them gone," he took her hand.
"I want you to know that you are not alone and I will do everything I can to help you get over this… again," he assured her.
Ifeyinwa stared into his eyes and he could see he had her trust.
"So, what do you say? Are you ready to let me in?" he asked.
Ifeyinwa clasped her palms tightly and put them above her head helplessly.
"The depression came back when I heard about her death," Ifeyinwa explained.
"Why didn't you say anything? You made everyone believe you were so strong and you had everything under control," Ifechukwu made a quote sign with her fingers.
"I had my doctor and I didn't want you guys to be worried about me," Ifeyinwa explained.
"You had a psychiatrist. As in for mad people," Ifechukwu countered her.
Ifeyinwa laughed, "Is a psychiatrist not a doctor?"
Laughing, "Whatever." Ifechukwu waved.
Ifechukwu stopped laughing, "All I'm saying is that you should still have let us in on what was going on with you. We are your family. We would still be hurt if anything had happened to you. Or don't you realize that it would be too much pain for anyone to bear?" Ifeyinwa asked her.
"See who is talking. Like you don't feel as bad as I do," Ifeyinwa said as she stared at her.
Ifechukwu pushed the tray aside and moved closer to Ifeyinwa. She took her hand in hers.
"Even at that, I can't help but hope we all find the strength to get through this especially now the burial is coming up," tension enveloped both Ifechukwu's voice and soul.