C2: Alone

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On the day of the burial, her aunt, their father’s younger sister, had come to look for her.

“Ysabelle, there you are,” she said.

Ysabelle had sought solitude in her late father’s garage-turned-workshop. He had been a struggling carpenter who gave his all for the well-being of his family. Money had been hard to come by, but they had never gone a day hungry.

“Aunt Brenda.”

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

Ysabelle had stood up from the unfinished sofa she had been sitting on.

“It’s nice and quiet here,” she told her. “Is Juliet back yet?”

Juliet was Brenda’s only child and Ysabelle’s best friend till a few days ago. They had been inseparable since they were kids. Till the day her father had died and everyone had known of her horrible secret, Juliet had been the one person she could count on.

“Yes, she is.”

Her aunt reached for her chitenge wrapper and unfolded the knot at the corner.

“Here, this is for you.”

Ysabelle had accepted the twenty-kwacha note, puzzled.

“It’s what you had contributed last night towards the chitenge material to be worn by the family members during your father’s burial.”

“Why are you returning this to me? Didn’t they find the chitenge material in Kamwala?”

“I’m sorry, Ysabelle,” she said, looking away from her.

Ysabelle felt a tightening in her chest. She raised her hand and rubbed her aching heart.

“Why? Wh…at? What are you sorry for?”

Ysabelle had endured her mother’s cold treatment throughout the funeral. She understood she was hurt and disappointed, but she hadn’t thought it would all come to this.

A part of her wished what she was thinking was all part of her overactive mind. The females in the family had held a short meeting the night before and conveniently left her out. She had heard about the contributions from one of the women who had been preparing food outside.

When she had asked her aunt, who had been with Chikondi, her elder sister, she had feigned surprise that she had not been present at the meeting.

But Ysabelle had seen through them all; she had just ignored it. She had offered to put up her contribution and reached for a twenty-kwacha note that she had stuck in her bra earlier. Her aunt had been hesitant to accept the money. She had looked over at Chikondi. Chikondi had instead just walked away, but not before giving her sister a disgusted look.

“Your mother,” she had continued, “doesn’t want you at your father’s burial.”

“Why? I’m his daughter too.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“She is doing this for you,” Brenda had said. “She is just trying to protect you. Imagine all the gossip that will be there?”

“So gossip should stop me from burying my father?”

Brenda had walked over to her and touched her on the arm gently.

“All your mother wants is to send off your father without any drama. Tell me you understand.”

Ysabelle had nodded.

“Thank you,” Brenda said, rubbing her arm.

The door had opened and Juliet peeped her head in.

“Mum, the bus ferrying the family members is here. Aunt Aliness is asking if you are done already.”

“I’m coming,” she said over her shoulder.

Juliet nodded and left like Ysabelle was not there.

“Will you be okay?”

She had wanted to laugh at the absurd question but had nodded and smiled.

“Okay. Good. Get some rest, you look like you could do with at least an hour of sleep.”

Ysabelle had walked over to the dirty window after her aunt Brenda had left.

She watched as the mourners got into the various vehicles heading for the church. The neighbors and friends got into at least six mini-buses and two canter trucks, while others used personal vehicles.

Her mother’s friends had helped her wailing mother walk to one of the two Rosa buses which had been scheduled to carry the family members to the graveyard.

Her mother, Aliness, had lamented the words that Ysabelle, as well as everyone else who had been to the funeral house the past three days, had come to know by heart.

“You have killed me, Ysabelle! You have killed me, Ysabelle! What do I do without him? What do your siblings do without him? You have ruined this family, you have finished me, Ysabelle….. poor me… Manase, Manase, your father… your father… Chikondi… Chiko… Ysabelle has killed me… father to Manase, what do I do? What will I do? Your daughter has killed you and finished this family…”

Aliness, at the doors of the Rosa bus, turned and looked towards the garage.

Their eyes had locked.

Eyes that had once looked at her with love and tenderness were now hollow and bore rancor.

Ysabelle had gasped and gripped the burglar bars on the window for support as she felt her knees give way beneath her.

Brenda had walked over to her sister-in-law and urged her forward.

Not until the bus had disappeared from her view down the dusty road did Ysabelle allow the tears to roll.

She had been hurt but had obliged her demands. When they were all gone, she had followed discreetly.

She had cried from afar as the church service progressed. Dressed in black tops and matching chitenge wrappers, she had watched her family, one after another, as they were led out of the church wailing.

Her heart tore in two when she couldn’t say goodbye or see her father for the last time.

From afar at the graveyard, with tears rolling down her face, she had heard the family
spokesperson announce, as he gave his eulogy, that he had left only two children behind: Chikondi and Manase.

The murmurs and whispers had risen, but no, there had been no mistake.

Her mother had sat staring into space, Manase and Chikondi on either side of her.

At that moment, no words could describe the pain and emptiness that washed over her.

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