The Day I Died

I remember the day I died clearly like it was just yesterday although it happened many years ago. It was on a sunny day in the month of October, I was on my way back from school; a young secondary school boy with a bright future ahead of him when the enveloping mist of death darkened it, shutting out the sun in my world and leaving me with nothing but a cold comforting darkness and silence.

I was just a street away from me when I saw that familiar welcoming sight of roasted plantain (boli) across the road. I had saved my break-time money earlier in school just so that I could buy boli. With a watery mouth and no hesitation in my steps I allowed the sweet smell wafting from Iya Kudi’s stall draw me to my death. I didn’t see it coming; no hint to the lurking danger in my path, a car came out of the bend on high speed and hit me. All I remember before the silence was that split second scream from Iya Kudi and then the sickening crunch of metal against flesh, my flesh. Death came swiftly and embraced me in a cold passionless hug that was the end of the bright future; the sun stopped to shine, day ceased to exist and darkness became lord.

Then came the angel, dark and fearful in appearance to announce to me that I belonged no more of the world. He announced calmly to me that I was dead like it was used to telling people that every day; I couldn’t believe it and I screamed my disbelief. I couldn’t be dead, I was too young to die as I had not done anything wrong. Why didn’t the driver die? What grave sin had I committed that God decided to punish me so? My only crime was to have tried crossing the road to have a quick delicious snack of boli before heading home. Then he smiled at me, a cold remorseless grin that showed the ugly fangs dripping maggot and slime, I shivered and lowered my eyes in fear as it took my hand and we flew away together as one on a wingless flight. 

I was too scared to protest and I allowed myself to be led away like a lamb to the slaughter. The scene of the accident grew distant and the images of people wailing over my young lifeless body receded. The last thought I had was how horrified mum will be seeing my precious school uniform bloodied and dirtied, every night she painstakingly washed away the dirt and scolded me on hygiene. The gravity of death was too heavy on my young mind yet at the same time I knew I wasn’t going to be seeing mum anytime soon with this monster flying me across the sky. I saw my little sister Anu playing with her friend Shade and I tried to call out to her but she didn’t seem to hear. The scream was locked in my head and for the first time I realized I felt lonely and that was when I decided to ask this angel of death where we were going. It looked at me with its dark eyes that made one feel like he was staring into a bottomless pit and without its lips moving answered that we were on a journey that was never going to end. I wanted to protest how that could be but an inner part of me cautioned against it and I realized suddenly that I had to become friends with this monster, get along with this voiceless apparition.

I don’t know for how long but suddenly the darkness faded and we were earth bound once again and the place looked familiar. It was the road to the cemetery and I could see there was a little crowd standing there, I recognized mum immediately. Her regal carriage bent over with grief and she was doubled with her wails renting the silence of the air, my little sister held onto her hand sobbing silently while dad stood there in the frigid stance of a soldier with his face expressionless. I was confused, why was everybody here and with so much grief and sadness in the air it was palpable. The current was high and I could see a little box with a preacher talking, I asked my dark friend what was going on and he pointed its gnarled finger towards the box and for the first time since it came for me released me and signaled I go to it. I hurried to the open box and reeled back in shock as I came face to face with myself. There I was lying still in my best Sunday suit, my eyes closed in the sleep of death with my complexion ashen. I cried out and fell on my knees, I screamed and wailed, my painful moans mixed with those around me but none could hear me. Then suddenly as if renewed by some energy, I turned around, looked at the crying faces before me and with one look at the body in its final bed, I ran blindly from the scene.

I could feel it behind me but I wasn’t going to turn around; I was determined it wasn’t going to catch me. The race began as it menacing dark frame bounding after me. I ran for dear life or should I say from dear death, nothing was going to stand in my way or so I thought. I didn’t see the well in front of me and with a plop I tumbled into it headlong and whether it was the startling effect of cold water upon skin I woke up then. My little sister was standing above me with a cup of water in her hand and a mischievous grin on her face, ‘Mum asked me to wake you up silly.” With that she bounced away and I realized I had been dreaming, with a groan I stood up and headed for the door, the girl I had thought would be the death of me had saved me from death.

Poshkid Gidigenius is a National Diploma holder in Mass Communication from Yaba College of Technology. He currently majors in English at the University of Lagos and has a voracious appetite for Literature. He is also passionate about writing and hasbeen a contributing author on a number of blogs. He has a love for entertainment and has written a number of opinionated articles on issues concerning the entertainment industry. Follow on Twitter or Instagram @gidigenius