When my brother died…

When people died, I used to think it was not that serious. I don’t know why… maybe it was because they were not close to me. Then my brother died, and that’s when it hit me – how precious life is. The thought of never seeing him again and of him never coming back to life… How I was never going to talk to him again was what brought me greater pain. It took time for it to sink in,  and even when I finally accepted it, I couldn’t believe that someone who held the most important place in my heart was gone and I would never see him again. It hurt so much because when he died, I was just a little girl, so every day, I would look at his pictures and say, “bro it’s been long since you left. When are you coming back? I miss you.” The fact that we shared the same birthday hurts me even more. I would say, “until you come back, I will not celebrate my birthday.” The feeling is unbearable, and it has made me realise that as a person, you don’t always decide where life takes you; therefore, you must embrace it with every chance you get.

Written by Patience Phiri