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Lamentations of the dead : I smell rotten
<p>It is hot, small, and dark. Panic kicks in. Why on earth would Femi put me here?</p><p> He knows how bad my claustrophobia is. Maybe that’s why he kept crying and whispering “sorry.” I don’t fully understand it.</p><p>why did he put me here? I don’t remember doing anything wrong, and even if I did, his punishments had never been this severe.
</p><p>Why couldn’t Femi hear my screams? It’s too damn hot, and I feel sunken, as if I cannot breathe. I feel ants crawling into my eyes</p><p>my sunken eyes.
</p><p>Even after everything, I still love Femi. He would beat me and tie me up when he got drunk, strangle me and laugh when I begged. I still loved him.
</p><p>It was heart-breaking the day Femi stopped hearing me. I remember it vividly. </p><p>He had hit me he had used the fire extinguisher on my head, five good times. It stung badly!
</p><p>The worst part was that Femi couldn’t hear me or perhaps he was ignoring my screams of pain.
</p><p>He dragged me out to the back of the house, towards the bushy area, and started digging. Why? I wanted to ask why, but my mouth felt heavy with blood.
</p><p>Why? Why is everything losing colour? Why can’t I move?
</p><p>For a few seconds, joy overwhelmed me. Femi had touched me. Those hands, that had enveloped me in warmth all those years ago, now seemed numb on my body.
</p><p>But that isn’t what disappointed me.
</p><p>He lifted me and put me into a black bag , the bag where I now lie. Panic rose in me, and I screamed, but to no avail. Femi didn’t hear me. Instead, a tear rolled down his face, dropping softly on my nose.
</p><p>He zipped the bag. I felt soft sand being dumped on me. I could hear him trying to muffle his teary words. One thing I could surely hear was the word “sorry.”
</p><p>But all I could feel was the sting of the wound on my head and the blood running down my face. That was the last I heard from Femi, and I absolutely hate it.
</p><p>It is so uncomfortable—no pillows, no sheets to cover my cold body.
</p><p>“If you can hear me—if this is one of your games, Femi...I don’t like this one.”
</p><p>I can’t breathe. It smells rotten.</p><p> I smell rotten…
</p><p>—Lase Soyinka</p>
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