Finding Solace

GRIEF

~VICTORIA~

Ignoring the foal smell of rotten mangoes that's fallen from the tree, the twitching and chirping sounds of birds were far to my ear as I kept running.

I sprint down Mission Road, dodging okada motorcycles and market women balancing baskets on their heads. The scorching sun beats down, casting long shadows across the faded colonial-era buildings.

Tears blur my vision as I weave past street vendors selling plantains, yams, and colourful fabrics. The smell of suya and egusi soup wafts from food stalls, usually enticing, now sickening.

Around me, the city's vibrant energy pulses – horn-blaring danfo buses, hawkers calling out, the distant hum of the Ring Road. But none of it registers.

The words echo in my mind like a nightmare.

"She's gone."

The stares I was getting, the mummers, the insults of drivers that halted their ride from hitting me while running into them didn't freak me out.

Just two words, but they shatter my world.

I push aside the numbness, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. My breath comes in ragged gasps.

Why did I take that detour through Ogbe Stadium? Why did I linger at Uselu Market?

If only...

Guilt and regret swirl inside me, making my stomach churn.

As I turn onto Sakponba Road, our house looms ahead – its cream-coloured walls, rusty iron gates, and zinc roof a familiar haven.

What will I find when I open that door?

Will everything be okay?

No, it can't be.

The voice on the phone...

The trembling tone...

The words...

"She's gone."

My ribs burned and my legs hurt but I didn't stop. The adrenaline i was feeling kept me moving even though i was losing all of my strength.

My school bag kept hitting my back as tears rolls down my cheek.

'Please lord, let it not be true. Let it not be true please' I prayed silently. 'Lord please. Hear my prayer just this once'

As I push open the gate, I'm met with a sea of unfamiliar cars packed into our compound. Neighbours' faces, usually warm and smiling, now wear pity-filled expressions. I recognize Mrs. Osagie, our next-door neighbour, her eyes brimming with tears.

"No, no, no," I whisper, shaking my head.

This can't be real.

I quicken my pace, rushing past the sympathetic gazes. Our living room, once filled with laughter and warmth, now overflows with mournful faces. Strangers, all crying, some offering comforting words.

I weave through the crowd, numbness enveloping me. Denial screams in my mind.

This is a mistake.

A terrible joke.

I won't believe it

I push open Grandma's door, my heart racing.

Please, let her be sitting up, smiling.

Let this all be a lie.

But the bed lies empty.

Auntie Blessing and Uncle Tony stand beside it, their eyes red-rimmed.