12th March 2021. The Black Friday I will remember for many years. My not-so-little-sister was snatched away by the cold hands of death.
I have so many unanswered questions. I’m deeply pained, angry, and confused. I have never known this level of hurt and pain in my life.
Abasiakara was a good girl. She had scaled through many facets of life with ease. In school, she aced her courses, in University she graduated with a 2.1 in Electrical/Electronic Engineering. She dared to tread the path that very few females do, and she excelled. She got out of school, secured a job, and relocated to Lagos. And then, she got married.
Abasiakara was loved. She was loved by her family and she was adored and respected by her husband. How could we know, that love would not be enough to save her life?
The night before she died, we spoke and laughed uncontrollably. I kept teasing her that her voice was too sharp for a pregnant woman at 40 weeks. I kept insisting that she should take the baby out so she would start “chopping life” again.
She had complained to me on Thursday, 11th March 2021, that her doctor said her cervix was narrow. I asked why she didn’t opt for a C-section. It made common sense, i.e if something was narrow, then it made sense that there would be an obstructed birth. But Abasiakara said her doctor knew best and that she would rely on his expertise.
We didn’t see this coming. How could we? But the healthcare system in Nigeria sucks.
Abasiakara was ready to be a mum. She had an easy pregnancy season. Little wonder we thought it would be a smooth sail. Why not? Our confidence was in the one who made heaven and earth. He says and I quote “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too difficult for me?”
Alas, 12th March 2021, had rude plans. So abrupt and rude. We weren’t warned. Abasiakara was wheeled into the ICU at Lagoon Hospital, Ikoyi, Lagos. Mummy, Promise, and I were not allowed in. She never made it out alive.
The one-hour Lagoon Hospital Ikoyi, made us wait in the Ambulance, while they prepared a room for her was the last moment we had with Abasiakara. She was transferred in an Ambulance from Lagoon Hospital Ikeja.
I will never forget those words “We tried all we could to save her life, but unfortunately, we lost her”. Lost who? How? Is it my “Mma Abas” we are describing with such words?
I begged the doctors not to take her off life support. I hoped that she would wake up the next morning when we returned. I prayed and I cried.
But no, she was gone. She is gone. This one hurts. This loss is fresh and it is painful. She didn’t deserve the pain she went through and she certainly wasn’t ready to die young. We were not ready to lose her. The days are not coming back.
Now we are left with the memories we shared and must forge ahead without her.
“Mma Abas”, (a name we usually teased her with), she would respond and hail me “Ah-tobong” in the most ridiculous way. You have left a vacuum, young lady. Daddy and Mummy will never be the same again. We love you and we miss you so very much.
This is a loss to one and all of us. It is irreparable. Our family is now incomplete without you. Life will never be the same.