PC: Pick The Brain |
Intro: This tragic short story expresses the painful feeling as a result of a great loss that could've been avoided.
I KILLED MY MOTHER, yes I did. If I had euphemized my words that night, maybe we all wouldn't be here, surrounding this white casket and tearfully waiting for Mama's remains to be interred.
I'm right here, watching the pastor give his words of solace before the burial, but my mind has wandered far away. No matter how I try to stay focused, I can't help but reminisce the careless role I played in putting Mama in this casket.
The guilt is killing me. I really want to tell Mama how sorry I am, but it's already too late because she can't hear me anymore. How do I take back my words and bring Mama back?
How do I filter my words and tell her that the accident did not kill brother Chinedu? How do I tell her that her only son is healthy?
I'm looking at brother Chinedu. He is crying helplessly because he had always promised Mama that he will make it in life, end her suffering and build her a big house.
But just as he was about to fulfill that promise, just as he finally made it in life and was about coming home to take Mama with him to the city, I killed her.
I can't forget that evening. Mama had just returned from the market, exhausted from the stress of selling her crayfish.
I was about rushing out to welcome her when a call entered my phone that brother Chinedu had engaged in a fatal accident which, according to the caller might have claimed his life.
I wish I was able to control my mouth, but no! I let my mouth control me. Mama, on seeing my sudden shock and scream threw her bicycle down and ran to me, asking me what happened.
I didn't wait to think, I broke down, with my two hands on my head. I didn't know that all of these actions of mine were already giving mama a heart attack.
Without even looking at Mama, I screamed that brother Chinedu had died in a fatal accident. Before I could say anything else, I saw Mama on the floor.
Mama did not faint. Mama did not collapse. Mama died instantly. Right there. Then, I realized that wasn't the proper way to break such a story, especially to a woman who had had a really stressful day.
I wish I was able to control myself, take her inside, make her eat and give it some days or even months before breaking the news euphemistically to her.
I later found out that the accident didn't kill brother Chinedu. He was very okay. But Mama died because of the shock of losing him and I am to blame for it.
All I'm doing right now at Mama's funeral is cry. Even if I roll around her grave, she won't come back. This is a bitter lesson to me and my tongue.
This is a fictional story, but this is my way of passing you a message on the importance of relating tragic news to people, especially when their loved ones are involved.
Be mindful of how you relate grievous information to people so you won't end up killing them. There are so many ways of breaking sad news. Please control your mouth, don't let it control you before you cause a death that wouldn't have happened.
I am Ima Udott