My favorite pink dress
I was putting on my favorite pink dress,a pair of white sneakers tucked in white socks. I got on a bus which was cream white in colour and on it we're men and women who were singing solemn African songs. The bus was fully packed in it's sits such that it left me and others standing whilst I clinged to a stranger so that I don't trip and fall. The strange man was supposed to look out for me for the whole journey. Apparently some strange woman got me ready for the 'big event' as she stressed that it was important and was a must for me to attend. I was excited as I always wore my pink dress to any happy occasion. Funny enough I felt safe in the arms of the stranger as he was compassionate and kind to me, but the question still lingered in my mind....'where was this big event and what was it all about'?
I saw flowers,I mean a lot of flowers all put on top of what seemed like mini hills,i assumed someone or some group of people planted them and left them there to dry up as they were not being watered or taken care of. I looked around me and seemed there were a lot in attendance as there was a lot of people some we're neighbors whom I knew and saw everyday,I could also notice my dad's co-workers as well as my relatives.....but wait a minute 'why was dad missing in the picture'?
Whenever I wore my pink dress I knew I was going to have some fun time with dad. The dress reminded me of the good times such as the long walk in the neighborhood coupled with pies and soft drinks after the walk not to talk of the good times at the showgrounds were I would eat all the pink sweet flossed candy. My intuition told me that this time was different but I just didn't know how different.
The solemn music continued but this time accompanied by wailing,women had no make up on neither were they putting on nice fancy dresses instead they were in chitenges and wore head wraps on their head's. The body later arrived and the stranger held my hand firmly though I didn't know what was happening I stood close the to seek refuge. The casket was moved from the car to where the people were and I had absolutely no idea of what was going on. At six years of age I had never seen or heard of the word casket before and yet it was in front of me and still couldn't recognize or identify it.
As the wailing the wailing worsened I felt a heavy toll on my body as eyes of pity were all stirring at me. The preacher preached much with the message of comfort as the brown casket was laying in front of him on the ground. There was a lot of chanting from the people who were in attendance and lastly a prayer was given.
I noticed some four muscular men who were digging a pit similar to the pit we had at home,the pit served as a trash can for all things that were no longer needed in the house and all things that were spoiled. This event was different....unlike throwing in trash in the the pit a casket was lowered slowly with a lot of care. Later the soil was thrown slowly in the pit until the pit became a small mini hills I saw earlier. I noticed flowers and these flowers were put on top of the mini hills which I admit made the mini look splendid. I asked the man to tell me who watered the flowers the people planted in that placed with a sad face he looked and never uttered a word.
Tents and firewood
On a beautiful sunny day I happened to be playing with my friends in the dust trying out all traditional fun games, my favourite was hide and seek which is commonly called in our language dialect as "chidunu".
Suddenly I saw two old women showed up with headwraps on their heads wailing profusely and helpless.
My friend asked "why are they behaving like mad people"? "I don't know" was my reply. The truth of the matter is I have seen such a setup before in my life more so a situation where so many people were gathered all at once all wailing and crying at once.
With a typical Zambian funeral there always tents spread outside to allow the male folk to spend a night as they are not allowed to spend a night in the house perhaps for security reasons.
The female folk are usually in the house perhaps some attending to the kitchen making sure there is food for everyone to eat.
Funerals in Zambia usually take 3 days being accompanied by solemn songs mostly sang by women which is usually accompanied by weeping and wailing.
Whilst this was happening I was at family friends house three houses away from where I live. I missed home and I really wanted to go back to my family and have fun just like my other friends. Little did I know that at that particular juncture I had no home to call my own.
I was an orphan and I was not aware....... actually my mother and sister died a few months back and again I didn't realise it, I was always told that my mother and sister had gone somewhere very far and would be back very soon till then they never showed up.
At this particular juncture I was to wait for my fate not knowing what was going to happen to me especially that I was in the earliest prime of life. I was just at the intro of life...... Unfortunately the first thing life introduces to me is death and sorrow. The truth is I don't even know what death and sorrow is.
