Mornings suddenly turned into nights, and nights into longer nights and longer nights into depressed ones.
Depression leapt up to me every second like a thief. Hunger beat me with my hands tied behind my back.
Sadness beclouded my thoughts.
Darkness crept through my window every time the sun tried to peep through it.
I was lost each day.

A graduate of Nnamdi Azikiwe University.
I roamed through the streets with the first rays the sun beamed.
I studied every length and breath, searching for job.
I walked uptown to downtown as i watched AM turn to PM.
Yet every door i approached gave me the regular clapback "I'm sorry, we cant hire you".

Tears rolled down my eyes coupled with the beat from the sun which hit me unrepentantly,
I couldnt tell which flooded my face; the tears or the sweats,
I couldnt say which perturbed me most apparently; the trouble of trekking the far distance back to my rented hut or the rhythm of beats hunger was drumming in my stomach.
I couldnt say again.

Then this night, it was just like every other night; lonely, sorrowful, hunger stricken, encroached with sad thoughts...
Except that my heart beat faster tonight,
Except that i had just one particular though occupy my mind rent free,
Except that i had a bottle of sniper lying seductively at the corner of my room.
Except that i couldnt think of any other thing but to quit it all.

The next day, I saw myself in a coffin.
So peaceful and empty of all the worries of life.
I saw people gathered around me.
I saw the same tears rolling down their eyes and little mumbles of regret and sorrow.
I saw Mr Akpan, who refused to attend to my cause when i was breathing.
I saw the friends who deserted me rally around my grave, puffing silent tears and nodding their heads in regret.
I saw Mr Gafe who refused to offer me the menial job, muster to Mrs Gafe, "If i had known, i would have helped him".
I saw Sam who claimed he was too busy to come to my cause when i was alive, mourning and cursing me for not holding on for too longer.
I saw a lot of friends and relatives who never replied to my plea for help donating huge sum of money for my burial ceremony.
I saw the foods i longed for littered all over on my burial ceremony,
I saw the naira notes i terribly needed lying carelessly on the ground as they flew freely from my relatives hands.
If only i could wake up and take them, i wouldnt have died.

I saw them and i cried even though i was dead,
I cried and cried and smiled.
I smiled because its all empty over here,
Because i was free from the torments
Because the sorrowful nights are over,
Because i cant die again.


PS: we tend to care more for the dead morethan we do the living.