Friday, October 4, 2013
When I Joined The Table Of Men
It was a Saturday night. We just returned home late night from a whole day's trip to Cape Coast to meet a crowd outside the main gate. I knew something was terribly wrong. What is wrong? I asked. Apparently, My landlady has been dead two days without notice. Some female neighbors only noticed late on the day. Police said it was weekend and their men are few. Tenants must take responsibility of conveying remains into the car to the mortuary. Everybody was scared to enter the dark room where the dead woman sat on a chair waiting to be conveyed. Stench was unbearable. Nobody could sleep. Her room is just steps away from my crib.
Then her sister noticed me arrive and she calls out 'General help us...we are afraid' ...what...??? Afraid of your own dead sister? I just had to take off my cloths, leaving my boxers, improvised gloves and masks. Together with four other neighbors, we got a first- hand undertaker experience ...Mehn! It was not a joke! If you're not brave and bold, don't call yourself a General because when the moment of truth comes, you must have to rise to the occasion. Well, I had to call on God for help when I got inside the room! But we did it nevertheless.
Now I needed the strongest disinfectant on earth afterwards!!
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