Man must die. And it is a wondrous thing that we still want to have a say on what happens above Earth when we go into it. Is it a way to stay immortal? Is it a way of denying the finality of death? Maybe we disbelieve that when we die, that’s it; we disbelieve that there’s no more we.
Whatever the thinking is, deathbed instructions still continue to be issued to loved ones. For the lucky few, their wishes do get carried out by those who love them. But, it could also be, that for the majority, the wishes are not honoured.
‘My sons, my last breath comes. When it happens and you are about to put me into my resting place, please destroy my house. Dismantle it and use the bricks to erect my tombstone. This will make me very happy.’ The old man said, his faltering voice sailing slowly out of him like a ship leaving port. His sons, who were gathered around him, listened and, of course, promised with fervour and heartfelt goodwill.
Several days passed and the last breath came. And over the next few days, relatives and neighbours congregated at the house of the funeral to see off the old man. However, the sons had acquired other thoughts as regards their father’s deathbed wish. Why destroy a perfectly good house? It seemed a bizarre and unfair instruction from their sage old father to confer. Hence, they decided resolutely to keep the house.
On the final day when the old man was to be taken to his final resting place at the cemetery, people gathered from all over and surrounded the funeral home. The coffin had been brought out and was in the foreground and the Church had finished their program. It was time to leave for the cemetery.
Suddenly, there was a rambling sensation that could be heard coming from the house. Those who had been leaning on it yelped with fright and run out from the eaves of the house. There was confusion and horror as the gathering watched the house slowly but surely collapse into a heap of bricks, rafters and corrugated iron sheets. Women screamed. Children cried. And the men stood aghast.
The sons were shocked. But they remembered their father’s dying wish, ‘Please destroy my house.’
Peculiar News Compilation
'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'
© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018
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