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246
Burial rice
<p>I stared at the piece of cloth </p><p>Then at his lifeless eyes</p><p>Thank goodness he finally stopped struggling. </p><p></p><p>I was 4 when it happened for the first time. </p><p>Orphaned, with absolutely no where to feed from, my first proper meal since the death of my parents was at Mama Bisi's burial </p><p>I had heard she was a bubbly woman or whatever </p><p>I could only care that I finally had a good meal, so much that I found myself looking forward to the next one. </p><p></p><p>You know, it was never the same with other ceremonies in the area</p><p>You had to have an invite, or know someone to be fed.</p><p>But food at a burial ceremony was open to all. </p><p></p><p>It seemed for a while that death had looked upon me with pity, because the ceremonies kept happening, and I kept eating to my fill. </p><p></p><p>Then after almost 5 months begging for and stealing scraps because no one wanted to die, I thought to take things into my own hands. </p><p>I killed a week old puppy, but I soon realized that it wasn't the same with pets. </p><p></p><p>So I severed the owner's thread of life. </p><p></p><p>I realized that I didn't have to wait till death dragged its cold feet to the area before I could eat, I could summon it myself. </p><p></p><p>And so for 11 years, I've been doing so. </p><p></p><p>I still can't seem to understand the crying that happens at a burial ceremony. </p><p>Maybe I'm not meant to.</p><p>Burials are a happy occasion for me.</p><p></p>
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