PREFACE TO THE UNWRITTEN BOOK OF DEATH

By Asiayei Enaibo David

The living came to the funeral to spray the casket. Others rushed to pick up the money and broke their legs; some begged for food at the funeral, “We have not eaten!” Some became stranded, with no boat to return home, and some followed the fast boats home. Others shouted, “You didn’t follow this boat, come down!” Some sympathizers are begging on behalf of those they do not know. Bitter kola sellers have eaten free food, all came to attend the funeral. They don’t even know who died, and they are happy that they too have made some money at the funeral. Some people came and left when they had not laid the dead to the grave, and they all hurried home; some with beautiful cars, and children; some didn’t have friends to support their family burial, and some made cool money through the support of big men and women.
Then musicians played till dawn and made good money through the dead, then the body in the casket was angry with a face full of powders of death.

Who gained from death? The man suffered and all his children were beautifully dressed to dance and funny women painted their faces as if they were new brides for marriage. At the end of the funeral rites, they cried as if they didn’t gain from it.

Those who took the load on their head, some became indebted paying debt of broken chairs by drunken fighters. Death ruins us– death we gain through this party—the last thought: let us share his properties. Polygamy at war, those in cults took the centre stage, but their father is dead. Legacy divided into two, some sold them to smoke cigarettes, and some lived a good life. Yes maybe his business partners killed him and probably to gain success to maintain their wealth and laugh at the funeral of a wealthy foolish man who trusted his friend to be stabbed to death.

They read his biography and praised him. Some said they thought he would climb to heaven with all his money.
Those he supported as breadwinners were willing to enter the grave as if they were serious, who had loved the death so much that they entered the grave. The MC asked, all crying relatives stopped, and the next day, they chased the wife and the little children of the man to the boys quarters. No, they later remembered that there was no written Will, the children spoke English while the villagers were accusing the man of as being stupid because he had no building in the village and the children did not understand their mother tongue.

Some men with handbags of ladies with high heels to the funeral at Night, probably when drinks have weep their heads, they will have some female pillows to rest their head, yes they spray the ladies laughed at the party with joy, while they only asked the photo- Journalist to snap them and write the story in their favor without his own will, then I wondered while some men will always travel to burial ceremonies with ladies at Night and told their wives that the river is too rough, while the wife is a prayer warrior praying for her husband to return, do you know what happened at that useless place we went to? Thank God you didn’t go, stories to placate her mind. This life too is like a twisted folder, this story is in a mysterious folder of life, book written in scroll some parts missing, as after the burial, the reader will complete the missing link.
Some friends will want to bring you down to tell their equal friends that our OGA spend money waywardly he doesn’t take advise but those his friends didn’t gave him piece of advice, they all collect money to spray at the party from him as team of big men, now that he is down, they said his waywardness kill him. But when he was saying even nonsense things, they said OGA you are right, nobody was able to tell him you are wrong in this your perspective, everybody told him he was right so while blaming the corpse in the casket?

The poor are seen as senseless people, the rich, the Mr. Right without good adviser, their small mistakes took them to the grave through thinking, no when you surround yourself with sycophants and commonize the book writers as poor people, when you fall, the sycophants will look for another friends they lied to the rich to maintain their friendship to survive and painted the writers as the problem in the society. Enjoy my wits through books with metaphors you can’t even explain.

If you understand this unwritten book of the death, that means you have read from scroll too in the archives of unknown sources.

How did he die? To God be the glory they said.
The Estate was taken over by Grasses and crickets with their relative of snake, then frog to keep the compound busy with noise.
Where has he gone to? Mystery of rhetoric

This unwritten book of death is a portrait of human struggle in life and the dangers in the journey of life.

A story by Asiayei Enaibo

The Talking Drum of the Niger Delta region.
Writes from GbaramatuVoice