Today is my brother's birthday. He would have been 31. Knowing me, I'd have given him a hard time for being an old man. I'd have made fun of him finishing "the calendar". In my family once you are 31 or older, you can never get away with any mischief ever again. Basi wakula, wamaliza "kalendala", that's what the old women from Mpemba always say. I wonder if he'd have had a wife and children, my brother... I wonder about so many things... But there is no way I will ever know. For this beloved sibling of mine has been 2 years cold under earth. A life snipped short!
As I torture myself missing my brother, I wonder for the millionth time why people in my family choose to die on each other's birthdays? Like my dad who died on my birthday..., my uncle who died on my aunt's, and my cousin Janet, who took her own life on this same day my brother was born, 20 years ago. Why? Tell me G, when you've had your birthday "funeralised", how do you ever celebrate it again without the sadness, without shedding a tear? How do you ever get wasted again without worrying you are pissing off the ones who are dead?
Really, the "one above" owes me a zillion worth of answers.
*Craig, I hope they celebrate old age wherever u r! Kumaliza kalendala is not a joke... It's actually a very scary nightmare.
Janet, hopefully one day you'll be able to enlighten me on what pushed you to the edge to finally take your own life. RIP
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