By Mfon James:
I wrote this piece in isolation.
After caging my tears within my body. But my body was not strong enough to protect it.
So I write.
*
An eye witness I was, of my sister’s transit. The doctors said she was one of their sickest patients.
They didn’t let us close, so we stood in batches, sheathed in white coverall;
Watching her scream in gut wrenching pain.
The doctor had assured us that her painkillers would arrive.
That we would be together and she wouldn’t have to walk that path alone.
And so we waited and prayed.
2 days
5days
8 days, the drugs never came.
The plaque hovered still, stealing loved ones and leaving pain.
We took turns watching her gasp for air from a glass door on the other side.
After the long wait, the COVID 19 relief drugs finally arrived and they immediately put her on oxygen.
Days later, negative
Everyday, we clustered on the glass door, silently watching her struggle for every single breath.
Our silence was the consent she needed; and so with one last glary smile, her transit arrived.
Nothing was more harrowing than watching her die.Yet,she wasn’t alone. We stayed glued, matting eulogies on her grave.