Thirty eight

Tears flowed freely as sympathizers gathered round his house in the next few days for his funeral; women let their grief break out afresh at the sight of the widow and fatherless children. It was a very expensive funeral, which three foreign companies' tendered to sponsor and to organize and in time gave it a first class torch. The dignitaries took the front seats and sat in the most organized manner. Decked in the colors of their academic and political attainment, they strode out in solemn and dignified steps to honor him, singing and praising him when they were called to do.

 Mrs. Zack peered from face to face like someone who has lost not only her memory but also her power of speech saying nothing. She was standing and her son who had been held by a strong hand ran to her and embraced her.  Friends, great politicians and relatives reviewed the man's life in their condolences speech and notes and times regretting that the sons of the devil never allowed him to reap the fruit of his labor, at least for his outstanding service to the nation. He wouldn't have opted to rest may be if he had not for once succumbed to the call of nature to take a well deserve rest, this hardworking and easy going hunk of a man would have been spared the horror of dying through plane crash.

The funeral started as planned, very early after the hour of eight. Every preparation was made and satisfactorily the organizers assured everyone that they would give the best service ever. Mrs. Zack and her children and their relatives filed out and sat properly in the place designated for them. The theme color for the family was white for mourning cloth. It was the moment for the whole world to watch them and express their sympathy. Mr. President and other dignitaries with him filed in and sang the national anthem in honor of the country. They lined in cortege following the mourners as they enter the church. Others joined after them, waiting briefly to be introduced. Now the atmosphere was more formal and going silent. As a Christian, his funeral would be conducted before anything follow. The priest on French suit who had come to conduct a funeral service for the deceased was going from seat to seat greeting and asking many questions to everyone he knew. He was asked simply a question by Pius when he was telling them that he was in a safer hand, more safer than anywhere he would have opted to be.

"Where is he exactly"?

"In heaven with God" was his reply.

"Give him our love if see you him, and tell him to keep in torch with us here, when he sees it fit to do so" Pius begged.

"It is a rough world you know, do not ever ask more" Uka cuts in.

Young Pius who had been so authoritative in his speech despite his age could not say anything further. His eyes got filled with tears and when he was about to speak something again, he choked. On a sudden impulse, he rushed at his mother and buried his head on her bosom. And for a moment there was an appealing intimacy among them both, as if they had revealed themselves to each other. Grief! Mother to a son, a grief they shared and understood. She held his head for brief moment, rubbing him to submission and using that opportunity to fight her tears away. He was the only one who felt the loss to the bone. The only one who could understand him had gone. As if he understood death, he hid his face, never wanting anyone to look into his eyes and wiping his tears away, looking up sideways and tried again to speak, he could not continue hiding his feelings and emotions at this passing moments and so he wept openly.  He cried again for the second time perhaps since his childhood. Children of the rich do not cry openly. There demands were always met before they cry. They don't understand anything. They don't understand Africa. They no longer risk their lives to earn daily bread. Their children belong to the regular society of the world. They eat and had throwaways. They bin a lot of useful items and foods because it was surplus.  Already the man who made him ask this question had been invited to declare open the program and so he left young Pius to the care of the many sympathizers who took him away.