Life went on, just weirdly different

A part of me felt maybe I shouldn’t write about this, but between working I decided, no, if I don’t write about it, I’m gonna regret it for a full year up until September 11th again.

10th September, the year is 2019. I am feeling restless. Frustrated. Everything feels bleak.

My friend Winny (brown eyes) visits me at this law firm I was working at. Well, at that time she preferred taking a million fleet of stairs to using the elevator. We got into the office, and we start talking about everything. But I kept telling her how worried I was about my sister.

But even at that point, that evening, I knew without a doubt that my sister was going to beat her illness and she’d come out strong, like she always did.

Winny was doing something in school, and I also wanted to go and confirm whether I was on the graduation list for that year. We got there and yeeess I was… and back in the day graduations were such a big deal guys… but I didn’t have any form of excitement in me. Something in my mind told me to call mom so that she would let Chela know that I’d made it to the graduation list at least, but I was too beaten. Too exhausted. So I didn’t.

That evening I left work to where I was staying with Marion, feeling like all the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I thought probably, it was the job. Maybe I didn’t like lawyers, or the pay… I didn’t want to admit to myself that something just felt off… and I had a weird feeling about my sister making it.

Before that, I’d get insane dreams of coffins and stuff like that. Premonitions they call it.

The night of 10th September 2019, Tuesday was eerie. I think Marion made a meal of ugali and eggs. I can’t remember whether I ate. But I recall her reassuring me that Chela was going to be fine. I listened.

At around 8:00 pm, I called mom. “Mom mnaendeleaje?” Like always she reassured me, that they were going to be fine. In the background, I could hear my sister struggling. Like she was in utter pain. I asked mom what that was about and she told me, she was having insane headaches, probably from the blood thinning. My heart sunk. First of all, because I know how uncomfortable headaches are, second of all, the sounds she was making tormented me. Knowing that she was in intense pain like that.

I went to bed, said a small prayer to God about Chela, and clung on faith that she was going to come out on the other side strong and full of life, just like she always did.
I managed to sleep. I woke up the next day to a very confusing morning.

The morning of 11th September 2019, Wednesday, was so heavy. Every cloth felt odd… dirty. Uncomfortable. I was all over the place. I woke up early but I got to work late.

At Kakamega Law Courts, while the drama and chaos that mostly ensued in courts took place, I texted my mom, “hey mom, mko aje I might be paid kesho, so I’ll come over to see you guys.” I was in the dark. I was clueless.

A friend of mine from home at that time texted me around the same time asking “Hey Val, Chela yuko aje?” I told her, she’s under medication and she’s going to be fine. I’m sure from her end she pitied me because, she got the news before I did.

I hurried back to the registry because we were missing something. While the person on the other end of the counter was attending to the file I had, I got a text from cousin Terry, “I am sorry Val, I know it’s really painful losing a sister.” My mind blanks out. The text reads blurry now. I know I never responded back to that.

Quickly I excuse myself and ping my sister Doreen. Laughing, I’m like “heeey ni nini hii Terry ananitext.” I think that was just absolute shock. I couldn’t process. My sister starts talking, and I could tell she was between sobs.

My heart stops for a while, she says “hujaskia kwani Val, Chela amepass.” I said “What?” Hung up and I sat down on the ground. On the fucking ground.

I could see stars. I forgot how to breathe. I could hear funny distant sounds inside my head. For a few minutes I couldn’t process a thing. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t feel a thing. Then the gates opened. And I cried. I fucking cried. I remember people stopping by me looking all confused. A gracious lady handed me serviettes. Told me sorry then walked away.

In that moment, I didn’t care about looking cute. Or the world around me. My sister had died and so everything else did not make any sense. So I cried ugly.
Then I managed to call my friend Nita, I needed someone. Nita, heavily pregnant at that time, came just the way she was. Then I texted Kwame.

11th September 2019, Wednesday was such a long day. And life continues. I couldn’t fathom how everything else went on… I wanted to yell at everyone and tell them to just stop for a day because I’d just lost my darling sister. But life continues.
I went home. With Nita.

I got home, my dad and some other men were sat in our living room. Grief is so tangible, you can smell it. You can hear it. You can feel it even when people aren’t saying anything.
Immediately home started feeling different. I got in, greeted them with a weary tired smile. Afraid of facing my mom because besides mourning my sister, I was worried about my mother. I know exactly what Chela meant to my mom. Chela was/is my mom’s star.

I remember asking her “mom mbona ulinidanganya?” I can’t quite recall if she responded, but I also remember telling her “Usijali mom tutakua sawa.” But even as I was saying those words… I knew I was lying. Plainly.

I got into our room, and your sweet, clean scent was all over. It stayed around for so long. I still can’t sleep in that room alone up until now. I remember that one night, probably the last night I was home, and the last night we slept in that room together, when I woke up and found you seated, I looked at you worried, and you instead asked me if I was okay, you said “unaumwa Val, ebu lala” and that image of us stays with me. I randomly wake up at night and my mind goes back to that memory. You were the one in pain but even through it you were still concerned about me. And we woke up the next day and I was grateful you were alive and with me still. I have no idea why I carried that fear around. The fear of losing you. Did I have such little faith?

A lot of things changed. I worried about mom, I worried about how we were going to be. Who was going to get everything else in order because Chela was our pillar when it came to a whole lot of things if not everything.

Everything felt bleak.

People approach grief differently.

At one point a little over a year later my aunties were visiting, one of them said, “I wish it wasn’t Chela who had to die.” I felt it. I didn’t even find it offensive because I totally agreed with her because throughout the entire time I knew that too… I kept telling myself “I wish God had taken me instead.” And honestly, if we could trade lives, I’d have given her mine. She had so much to offer in this life then, than I could. She was everyone’s darling.
I miss you hun.

And I couldn’t understand why when I left you a birthday wish on the 1st of September in 2019 your response was “I am so grateful to have seen this day.”
And above everything else I hate that I missed your last call to me, and I only realized that you’d called after you were no more. I try to imagine a million different things you wanted to say.

For a long while home felt different, but after all those years we’re still adjusting to you not being around. Not a day goes by without me having you on my mind.
People at times make the obvious mistake and call me with your name. You should see their faces, they freak out. I usually smile and say “aaah ni sawa.” Unknowingly to them, that makes me so proud, the kind of mark that you left even to the outsiders. It’s only that most are getting to know me, most knew you as the last born.

I thought I was at a place where I could talk about you without breaking down until one day somewhere around Feb 15th this year, I brought you up to some amazing soul and I broke into ugly sobs. I said “yuck” because I promise it was ugly… you should have seen… or maybe you saw. I don’t know.

I miss you, I often imagine how different home would be if you were still around. All year round up to September 11th I have random thoughts about you and in my head I go like, around this time, Chela was still around…

Then after September 11, my thoughts go different. Sad almost.
It was so hard adapting to life without you hun. C’mon I’d known you my whole life. And like how Doreen said, it’s almost like deep down our hearts we all individually knew amongst us, all the 6 of us were gonna grow old together.

I still get those moments of “gosh this girl really died.” Like I forget and imagine that you sojourned to a faraway land and you’ll get back eventually. Some evenings it gets to 4:00 pm… and I promise I can almost hear you shout “Val, come unichukulie hii handbag” like how you’d always say it.

I sit and fold holding my chin in my hands like how you would. I realized that. I don’t know how it came to be.

Most people refer to you as “the late.” I’ve never and I will never because to me you’ll forever be alive, in my mind and my heart and if/when God blesses me with mini me’s, I’m gonna tell them so much about you, I’ll make sure they have a clear picture of who you were.

I talk about you and I’ll never stop bringing you up.

I wish I made that call on that evening of 11th September, Tuesday 2019, just after I’d found out that I’d be graduating. At least you’d have gone with that, you know. The role you played in me being in uni was huge. And I owe it to you. Thank you for being there for me.

Thank you, Maureen Chelagat

Your gorgeous lovely smile still stays with me.
I adore you hun. Continue resting in peace.

On Thursday 12th 2019, in the morning, I woke up to my mom’s wails and I knew then it basically wasn’t just a sad wild creepy dream. It was reality and I had to come eye to eye with grief. Figuring how to adapt to life without you would follow later.

And so life went on. Just weirdly different. Always with a touch of sadness and emptiness. I said “aki jamani Chela.” Then I immersed myself into the darkness of grief, entirely.


PS: (My sister and I were candid, inseparable even… to anybody who says that my sister died while we were not okay with each other, may God forgive you.)

Cheers♥️