Written piece
A witness to love.
Vivian Chukwuemeka
Nigeria
About this piece
I wrote this piece thinking of my late father and memories we made while he was alive.
You know, I think of you sometimes.
Out of the blue, a memory flashes —
your voice, your laughter,
your smile, the one we share.
Sometimes I smile widely,
Just so later I can look at it in the mirror
and imagine I’m looking at you.
I remember singing the list of things you sent me to buy —
so that I wouldn’t forget.
(I still forget.)
I remember wanting to be like you —
sucking on a lemon,
drinking garri with pepper.
And that first sip of gin…
I probably shouldn’t say this out loud, ha-ha.
But you taught me to drink,
And now I think of you in every sip.
Christmas carries you too.
the games we played,
The rustle of transparent nylon
holding my brother’s beloved cloth,
and your voice —
Odumuyagayaga odumuya.
I still hear it.
Some days you’re close, almost within reach.
Other days, you’re a dull ache,
a shadow of a memory I can’t hold for long.
I wish I could live it all again —
every moment with my Atta,
from my first breath…
to the day I laid my hands on your cold chest,
watching you lie so still, unmoving,
silently willing you to come back.
I was loved by you,
Now, I am loved...for you.