I have wanted myself dead several times. Not out of the need to live in the grave but situations made me find it a suitable option. Hold, why I’m I giving myself the honour of a grave? For all I know I might be fed to the wolves or my ashes dispersed in the wind. All would be lost then. I would be gone. Those who wish to remember me would and those who would be glad I have been wiped from the face of the earth, would party. Life moves on. The galaxy keeps revolving..
Simple simple. Easy how you can be discarded.
I don’t live in doom. But all around me spells doom.
I have willed myself dead too many times all I’m left with now is a body. The soul is dying, if not dead by now. They say there’s a way where there is a will. And the will is always here. Knocking for that door to open wide.
I once saw a person die. It wasn’t me but she was my relative. Basically it’s my blood line that was cut off. I watched as the life of her oozed out before we were safely escorted out and those conversant with these matters, went in and recited the Quran for her. As children, we were not allowed to watch. Trauma would haunt us. Her death seemed smooth to me but I doubt she could say the same for herself. Death, I’ve come to learn is very painful and I’m afraid of pain. It has to happen to all of us living beings. I want to brace myself for it. If only I knew exactly what goes into what.. I would be armed.
I died once. I did not use the razor to split open the veins on my wrists. I also didn’t hang myself by the neck from the ceiling of a room building. I didn’t take an overdose of a variety of medicinal pills. My will wasn’t even strong enough. A force beyond me did it for me. Very strong and I wouldn’t want to go through such a killing. Murder? I hope my eventual death will be smooth. And quick as that day I almost died.
It was a sunny afternoon and I was heading home from the mosque. My half brother had gone to madrasa there and I had taken lunch for him. I was on the pedestrian side of the road in case a car hit me, the owner would have to cover all medical costs. I don’t want to die by a car. An accident too. Maybe shock.
That said, I have seen many other deaths. None live. Most on big screens and Motion pictures. They stirred up emotions of sadness in me. That was before I found it that it was fake, acted and unreal. I got back to the real, to what I can experience. Acted fiction will not make me sad. Not anymore. I have a death to await.
I was breathing in the fresh air coupled with a few dust particles of which I totally love. The smell of fresh dust takes me to levels I can’t describe. It makes me feel alive during times I’m not aware that I am or should be. The wind was spreading it’s cooling effects making me love the walk. The weather was coordinating itself amazingly.
Ahead of me on my side walk, a man was walking towards me. He had on a black blazer and jean shorts that reached his knees. He had unkempt hair and he wasn’t clean. He was what you call a chokoraa ama mwendawazimu. I don’t know what fits him. Only he wasn’t carrying a gunia with pick up bottles and scrapes. He was going his way just as I was mine. Travellers to a destination. Like we humans are in this world. We crossed paths and then he killed me..I did die.
It was too fast. I saw myself lying in a ditch, it had sewage if you must know the details to the very depth. My neck was hurting and I was being helped out by some young men. They ran a barbershop and offered me little water to wash up before going my way. It was the little they could do. I didn’t have to narrate to them what had occurred, they had witnessed it. He ran away before they could catch him, they told me.
I nodded. Said thank you before heading home.
I was wondering why that man strangled me. I hadn’t done anything to him. Stuck my tongue out or looked at him weird yet he wanted to end life for me. Maybe because I’m the weaker sex or that’s what his mental state at the time directed him to do. To date I haven’t found out. Neither did I tell anyone back home.
There wasn’t a struggle during those 10 seconds I died. It was simple. He grabbed me by the neck and snapped it then pushed me in to the ditch. It was over as soon as it had started. For him.
On my end, I died. My eyes were blank and my life was dimming down. If I wanted to die at that point I sure would have, there’s absolutely no doubt. But here I am.
Having seen death and died. Only once.