Her All

CW: Death

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I.

The common notion was that a mother wouldn’t live to bury any of her children, but on this day, the ground revolving beneath her feet and her head dangling in the wind of uncertainties, Ibile became certain that that notion doesn’t apply to her. Although, she had fought back and had insisted that she at least know where her son would lay to rest, but her late husband’s relatives had convinced and told her that it would be a sacrilege for a mother to stand and see her child being swallowed by the earth. And having no other choice, she had resigned to her fate and embraced what it had carved out for her. 
Thousands of thoughts sprinted through her mind. As she fixed her gaze on the wall clock sitting slantwise on a one-legged shelf, she watched as a fat cockroach crawled and stopped and crawled around the clock. Ordinarily, she would have thrown her slippers at it and chase it all around the house if she happened to have missed the target. But now, her mind being distraught and fixated on grief, she only watched it and thought, for a fleeting second, how lovely its colours were. 
By now the earth would have completely swallowed up her son, she thought, and tears rolled down her cheeks. What does it mean to lose a child and what does it mean to welcome agony into one’s home? She asked herself countless times. And how does one make meaning out of life when the alter of one’s happiness has been ravished by loss? 
Ibile reached onto the bed and dragged a pillow down. She placed it a few inches away, and stretching out herself, she sank her head into it. If this was fate’s doing, then what other choice does she have than to drown in it.

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  II. 

When the news of his death came to her, she fell to the floor and kept mute for several minutes. And then, without any inklings, she rolled from one end of the ground to another. Her Defender and Protector had robbed her of her defender and the one who covers her shame, she cried out and flung her arms all about. 
She then sat upright, and for a moment, she kept her eyes on Iya Bola, who was at loosed ends trying to keep her wrappers still, and then she stared into vacancy for hours. Even when her relatives came – and shortly afterward, her late husband’s relatives – her eyes didn’t blink nor did it lose its focus of staring into nothingness. Her mind was blank and her senses were numb. They were absolutely no thoughts darting through the hallways of her mind. They were no impulses to act on. Colour only drained out of her face. 
And unexpectedly breaking free from the clusters of bodies gathered all around her, she rose to her feet and gaited out of the room. She found herself in the hallway of her flat, glanced at the ceilings for a moment, and kept walking towards the iron gates of the compound. But as she approached the gate, she felt several hands pulling her back. The bodies who owned those hands were shouting and making several incomprehensible noises. And since her senses were on halt or seemed not to be in place, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. To her, they were like traffic agents signalling and motioning to hundreds of vehicles without muttering a word. But she broke free, pushed the gates wide open, and then walked into the waiting and open air. 
She kept walking and walking. She didn’t stop to greet the Mallam at the kiosk two streets away nor did she stop to say hello to Mama Rukewe and afterward, ask after the wellbeing of her family and her business. Nonetheless, as her feet landed on the concrete floor of the church, bits of tears fell from her face. She moved forward and then sat at her usual spot – three seats away from the pulpit. Prominent lines appeared between her brows as her expression closed up. She peered at the symbol of the Cross fixed at the far end of the pulpit. And before she knew it, she fell to her knees and wept, her mouth set in a hard line. 

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III.

His birth was different from her other children. His arrival came unexpectedly. She and her husband had visited the village for the Easter holiday in the first week of April, and since she would not be due for another month, they had both decided to spend the whole month of April in the village. But her water broke at the third week of April – at the crack of dawn. Since her husband wasn’t home, because he had gone to his maternal village the previous day, she felt they were no need to worry. And since, based on the calculation, the baby was not to arrive in about three weeks, she went back to sleep. But all effort to proved abortive. With the desire not to take any risk, she then proceeded to the primary health center. But halfway along the journey, she felt her legs growing weak and flaccid, and before she knew it, she was on the ground. 
She became aware of herself and her surroundings when she heard the midwives telling her to push harder. With two and three push, he was out already. But she didn’t hear his voice or that small shrilling cries. Rather, what she heard undoubtedly was the voices of the midwives telling the baby to cry, and occasionally spanking its buttocks. This went on for several minutes, and not understanding any of it, she sat upright on the fluffy bed and gestured to the midwives to hand the baby over to her. She rocked him a little and sang to him, but he didn’t respond. She opened his mouth slightly and dipped her nipple into it, but still, he didn’t respond. She climbed down from the bed and then sang to him again, but still, he didn’t blink or stir or cry. She exchanged glances with the midwives and handed the baby back to one of them. She fell back to the bed, her face flushed with terror. And for a miniature moment, she thought all was lost. 
But one of the midwives suggested something. Since nothing was left to hold on to, they all agreed with her proposal. And as they concluded, the midwife rushed out of the ward and immediately returned with a bowl half-filled with sand. The midwife then ordered that the baby should be handed back to its mother, and as she said those words, she dipped her hands into the bowl of sand, fetch a moderate quantity, and rubbed it over all parts of the baby’s body, while the other midwives stayed watching and beckoning to the heavens. 
As things happened at their timing, life roared out of the baby. He sneezed and yanked his little arms and feet, and then submerged the whole ward with his cries. Awe transformed Ibile’s face and the corner of her mouth quirked up. She pressed her child to her chest. And for all that was worth it that upended moment, she recognized the belief of not accepting and seeing things only at the surface level. 

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IV.

Each time she tried visualizing how he died, she came to a halt midway. Perhaps the event was all too gory for her mind to imagine or walkthrough. Or perhaps her being and senses were not ready yet to come to terms with reality. Whichever way, loss was something that punctures a hole in the heart and leaves the body doubled over in pain. 
They said a tanker collided with his car. And as the strength of the tanker outweighs the car, the car scrunched inward like a squeezed plastic can, and as a result, he passed on at the spot. What was his reaction like, in that transient moment when he noticed the tanker coming his way? Was he alarmed or was he frightened or did he panicked? She thought. And what expression did his face bore when he realized that life was seeping out of him? Did fear crossed his face or did his face contorted or did it go blank? 
Her other three children didn’t attend the funeral because their flight had been delayed in Heathrow due to bad weather. Even as she spoke with them on phone, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She only hummed and hummed to whatever it was they said. Everyone who came to sympathize with her told her to find comfort in them – her other children – and said that with time they’ll fill the hole his departure had left behind. But she wasn’t certain if they will or could. Amongst all her children, he was different. He was the one who covered her shame. He was the one who sacrificed and worked his back off to see his siblings become more established and better than he was. He was the one who made her know the place money still has after she retired from trading a few years back. How possibly then could she move on with life? And how possibly could they replace the person that he was? If she could, for a slight second, twist back the hands of time, she would willingly trade positions with him.  

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V.

The world didn’t stop to bear her grief with her. She carried it all alone. In the morning, she woke up with it. At noon, she dwelled on it and made light meals with it. And at night, she wept about it and cuddled it close to her heart. Each day and week that passed, she saw the clouds making shapes of his face – his pointed nose, his perfectly shaped lips, and his open teeth. She saw his smiles lightening up the darkness clenched within her palms. 
Despite her pleas and her earnest longing to let the matter be, her children persisted and filed a lawsuit against the company the driver had worked for. They based their claims on negligence on the part of the driver for drunk-driving. They demanded compensation to the late victim’s family. However, that was nothing to her, and just the thought of knowing that her son had been one of the victims of careless drunk drivers, crippled and killed her twice more.   
During the settlement with the company, all the principles she knows or she thought she knew about life became strange and foreign. None of them made any sense to her. And one morning, a week after the settlement had been concluded, she called her children to the living room and asked them if they can now sleep much better than before. Each one of them said no and kept silent afterward. She looked at them and then stared into vacancy. She didn’t know what to say. Words now became too heavy to roll off from her mouth. And later that night, she sat beneath her legs – her back leaning against the bedstand – she spoke to him and asked him why he didn’t fight to live as he had once done years back. With head tilted downwards and wrinkled nose, her eyes swam with tears. She felt a sharp twinge in her chest and realizing how sleep-deprived she was, she shut her eyes tight and whispered that he had been her all.