Death has a way of freeing people. It also knows how to cast a spell of forgetfulness. Suddenly everyone is overwhelmed with loss, actions and inactions are forgotten. After all, who holds grudges with a ghost?

When someone dies, it is other people that bear the pain, that feel the effect of your loss.

Today is my father's funeral. Every corner of the house is full of well wishers,family, friends and a few enemies. People surround my mother making sure they offer comfort,it's a calculated move in hopes that when this is all over and they ask her for help she remembers that they were here for her. 

They beg her to eat or drink something and heap thousands of "I'm sorry for your loss" upon her as if it means anything, as if their words aren't useless.

I am dressed in a stoned white lace, this was the asoebi picked out by my Aunty for the day. Even in grief we have to make a fashion statement. The whole family decided that nobody was going to wear colourful jewellery, we are keeping it simple today, white lace and gold jewellery. Aunty has managed to heap gold bracelets on her wrist that they almost reach her elbow.I think of sending the live band we booked home, definitely the clangs of her jewelry is enough music.

She wails strategically, throwing herself onto our soft pillows,I watch as she throws herself shouting "my brother oh" but even grief won't spoil her day. She repeatedly throws herself on the couch,falling carefully so her makeup won't smear. Nobody can say she's not talented. She really should have gone into entertainment.

I walk away from her and head towards my room, I just want this day to be over. We've worked so hard towards the planning and it has been draining. On my way, our maid informs me the car is outside and it's time to attend service.

The drive to the church is silent, only the sound of the police escort siren is heard. My mum and I exchange no words, one would think we were dead too. 

After the procession and sermon, the congregation is asked to say eulogies about my father. They announce that they'll take only 50 people because of time. The church is full today, over 700 people came to say their last goodbyes even though some never told him hello.

My Aunty goes first, "my brother was a good man" she starts with this then punctuates her words by sobbing and dropping to the floor. Altar boys and clergy rush to take her back to her seat. She keeps screaming "why him" "why". The eulogies continue without much drama after that. From scholarships, to hospital bills and employment, everyone has something nice to say finally it's our turn to say something. My mother tries to give a speech but she keeps crying and can't speak.

I collect the mic and start, " thank you for coming today, times are hard and you are all hungry and came here for food so I'll keep it short". My father was a useless piece of shit. Aunty,close your mouth, don't let flies in. Didn't he rape your daughter? his own niece!!

Abu you said he paid your hospital bill, wasn't that after he slapped you and you fell and hit your head? Or was it the time he threw a kettle at you?

What are all of you doing here, lying about what a great man he is. The man deserved death, he has never brought joy to anybody. In fact the day my grandparents conceived him, I'm sure my grandmother felt no pleasure and that is why he came out so wicked. Since the act that made him was loveless and joyless, how could he have joy? We bought enough cows though, so please go to the hall, eat and drink to your satisfaction and stop the nonsense tears! Rubbish…

But of course I don't say that. Instead I say "my father was my best friend,..."