Back at home, I’ve just finished cooking our steamed bread and beef stew. I serve it. As I sit down and start eating, Dad stares at me without saying anything.

“Dad, are you alright?”

“You can’t keep doing this, Tox.”

I stop eating. I pull in a long breath. I don’t say anything, but deep inside I see that Dad has grown tired of me.

“Yes, it’s painful, but we can’t hang on to that pain for too long.”

I look at the plate, Mom’s plate. I wish that I could see her eat her food.

“Tox, you keep washing your mother’s clothes. You make her coffee, you even call her number. I know you miss her, however, I think you’re destroying yourself.”

Tears fall from my eyes. “Dad, I can’t just move on like that, I tried but I’m failing, I can’t. You may have done so, but I can’t and I won’t.”

“We can’t turn back time, you need to grow up and be strong.”

“I think that no man can grow up to forgetting and moving on from those they loved so much.”

“Son, for how long will you keep wasting your energy and our food? Your mom would not be happy seeing you do this to yourself.”

“Your problem is that you always think you know what she would say or think! You are not her and you’ll never be! Stop pretending to be her!”

I stand up, and I take both my plate and Mom’s and go dump the food in the bin. I go straight to my room and shut myself inside.

***

I keep thinking of it every day, my mother, raped and ruthlessly murdered? She had multiple bruises from a beating, her body showed clear signs of struggle before death, but why did they resort to stabbing her?

“God, answer me!”

I blame everyone, God, the police, the community for not making a safe place, and the government for doing nothing about it. At school, everyone goes on with their lives, and even that corner where she breathed her last breath is still a great spot for nyaope boys. I sometimes feel like if I go there, maybe she’ll be there, I don’t know.

***

IN THE MORNING

“Tox, I’m off to work.”

I don’t reply.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine!”

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Yes.”

I bury myself deep in my blankets. I cry. I take out my phone and start typing.

I’ve been in this world for 17 years, but today I feel like I’ve lived long enough. Now I want to die, and please don’t ask me why. Now that I remember, I’ve always asked Mom about the history of our family. Throughout what she told me is that ever since my ancestors were born to this world they suffered, my grandparents suffered, they were killed as a result of war and witchcraft. My paternal grandmother was struck by lightning, and Mom had a tough upbringing.

Now I’m suffering too following her. I don’t want to have children, no, if I do they’ll endure the same fate. My surname can rather perish than me continuing to walk on the mud of pain. I hate everything, life sucks! In fact there’s only one thing that matters, I need to die.

I send the text to my dad, and look up at an electric cord I’ve tied above me. I take the chair from my desk and put it on top of my bed. I climb up and tie the cord around my neck.

Now here I am, I’m standing on a chair with a rope tied around my neck. One move and I finally rest. I’ve never thought of killing myself before, but today it’s the end. I drive the chair over with my feet, and in a second, the rope tightens around my neck. It strangles me, nothing’s more painful than what I’m feeling now, I can’t breathe, my eyes are being gouged out. Darkness starts filling my room and I, no, I’m wrong. Somebody help me!

Tells us: What could you have done if you were Tox?