When I arrived at the hospital and I was informed that she was dead, I went inside the ward and stood for many minutes beside her bed. I asked multiple questions without her replying.
"Is this where it all ends? I hear people say life begins at 40. Why did yours begin at 40 and end at 41?"
My lovely sister died a few months before her 42nd birthday. My elder sister was a pillar that supported me over the years.
Eight years earlier when I lost my father, our backbone in the family, everything about my life became uncertain. I was strong for days, especially during the funeral period. Friends and family were surprised at my level of strength emotionally. I looked at my mother who was heartbroken beyond measure and I decided to be strong to encourage her to be strong too.
A day after my father was buried, I retired to a room to pour out the pool of tears that had gathered in my eyes. I was crying profusely when my elder sister walked in. She hugged me from behind and wiped my tears with her handkerchief. I looked back at my sister and asked a question; "who is going to play the role of a father in my life?"
"You don't need to panic," she responded. "We will not be shamed by the grace of God."
I bowed my head and continued sobbing. She pet me and gave me many words of hope and assurance that things would be fine.
My sister was a woman of few words. She matched her talks with actions, even beyond what was expected. She filled the loophole left by the death of my father greatly. At one point, the fear of uncertainty was weighing me down. I thought of survival in school. The payment of school fees. Feeding and other things. Whenever I considered giving up, my sister would reach out to me timely to encourage me to keep moving.
Once it was time for me to resume a new semester in school, I would go to her place and she would buy the groceries that I would be needing in school that semester for me. She was my first point of contact whenever I was broke. If she was out of resources, she would gladly take a loan for me to be fine.
We planned many things about the future. I planned to reciprocate in any possible way. Just when I was getting closer to actualizing my dream of reciprocating, death snatched her away from me.
I remember the day that I got my first major job after graduating from the university. She celebrated my appointment letter with a funfair. A few weeks later, she fell sick and she never recovered. I lost her.
When her remains were being transported to the graveyard, I shook my head at the vanity of the world. The existence of my sister taught me many lessons. One of them is to be able to sacrifice for the welfare of our loved ones. I realized that we need to be one another's keepers irrespective of what the future holds for every individual. Every successful or great person has a story with many characters. It is good when one's name is mentioned in the story of the greatness of another person. It's an indication that such a character was an asset to humanity.
Everything about my sister was love and sacrifice. She was a pillar to the family. Since her demise, I have not been able to fully recover. She crosses my mind many times daily. I keep solace in the fact that she lived for others during her lifetime. She didn't just stand for her family in their time needs, she did the same to friends and even total strangers.
Till this moment, some of her friends still call me to check on the family three years after her death. For this and many other reasons, I am glad that she lived a purposeful life in her four decades of existence.
