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Big Dee Nigeria
Writer | Speaker | Creative Voice. I tell stories, make calls & design confidence. @ Yabatech
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December Still Owes Me
<p>Friday.</p><p>December 22nd, 2017.</p><p>Three days to Christmas.</p><p>Three days to her birthday.</p><p>The world was singing</p><p>and my chest was already mourning</p><p>something it could not name.</p><p><br/></p><p>My mother asked...</p><p><strong>have you heard from your best friend?</strong></p><p>That's what everyone called her.</p><p>Not aunt. Best friend.</p><p>Because that's exactly what she was.</p><p><br/></p><p>Two months ago, I said.</p><p>She's coming for Christmas.</p><p>She promised.</p><p><br/></p><p>That evening my body broke into fever</p><p>like it was trying to warn me.</p><p>Like it already knew.</p><p><br/></p><p>They sent me to bed.</p><p>And the dream came.</p><p><br/></p><p>I was sitting with the blue pen.</p><p>The one she had engraved..</p><p><strong><em>Pen of Light.</em></strong></p><p>A name I rolled my eyes at.</p><p>A name I never let her see me love.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then she was just there.</p><p>No knock. No warning.</p><p>Just Aunty Mandy</p><p>patient the way only she was with me.</p><p><br/></p><p>She couldn't stay.</p><p><br/></p><p>So I went to the wardrobe.</p><p>The dress. The slippers.</p><p>The money folded for a dinner only I had planned... Just us. No noise.</p><p><br/></p><p>"Keep it for me," she said.</p><p>"I'll collect it later."</p><p>I turned to say 'wait'...</p><p>my mother's knock pulled me back.</p><p><br/></p><p>I woke up... I couldn't eat.</p><p><br/></p><p>December 23rd came quietly.</p><p>The way the worst days always do.</p><p>No announcement.</p><p>Just my mother's cry</p><p>tearing through the wall</p><p>without permission,</p><p>without warning,</p><p>without care for what it broke.</p><p><br/></p><p>I ran.</p><p><br/></p><p>Complications.</p><p>Pregnant...</p><p>a whole life inside her</p><p>nobody told me about.</p><p><br/></p><p>She never collected her gift.</p><p>The dress still folded.</p><p>The slippers still wrapped.</p><p>The money still waiting</p><p>for a dinner December swallowed whole.</p><p><br/></p><p>Christmas came anyway.</p><p>The world sang anyway.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every December 23rd since</p><p>I wake up already knowing.</p><p>The date lives in my body</p><p>before my mind catches up.</p><p>Some debts don't let you forget.</p><p><br/></p><p>I am still at that wardrobe, Aunty Mandy.</p><p>Still holding everything</p><p>you told me to keep.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still waiting.</p><p>Still grieving.</p><p>Still yours.</p><p><br/></p><p>December still owes me.</p><p>And I will never stop collecting.</p><p><br/></p>
Competition entry | World Poetry Day

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