Requiem for a Morning Glory

I was reading the Weekly Times and drinking my hot beverage of ginger tea mixed with natural honey. I chuckled, because I was amused by the news story.

My right eyelid twitched as I saw the white invitation card on the dining table. Then, her unforgettable name crossed my mind and her smiling face flashed before me. Eno.
I got the invitation from her family last night. They wanted me to recite a prayer in Latin for the memorial mass at Church of the Assumption in Falomo, Ikoyi. And if I declined, the family would feel slighted. I did not believe in saying prayers for the dead.

“Only fools pray for the dead,” I told a friend. “Because, the dead do not need our prayers. Only the living needs prayers.”

I was still missing Eno after 20 years of losing her. 1987 was a year of the vicissitude of existential realities. I was having a great time as one of the youngest editors in the most populous country in Africa, chauffeur-driven in a Toyota jeep provided by Eno and she was glad to serve me delicious salads, because I was a vegetarian. Then on that fateful day in March, the bad news came that Eno went to a private hospital for surgery and did not survive. I fainted and when I regained consciousness, I thought it was a bad dream. I could not bear the loss of Eno. After her burial, I left Lagos for Enugu. I wanted to retreat to a place where I would be able to overcome my depression. Because, living and working in Lagos without Eno would be too hard for me to bear until I have recovered from the shock of her sudden death. And her husband even thought I had an affair with her, because I accused him of neglecting her when she needed him most. He left Eno at the hospital and traveled to another state for a business deal when he should have been with her during surgery to make sure that she was well treated. And he did not allow me to see her until after her painful death.

I was heart broken and going away was good.

Eno did not need prayers, except a memorial service to remember her and remind us of the transient nature of life. So, whilst they were praying for her departed soul, I was only thinking of how much she wanted babies and died without having any child. And she was only 29.

Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Te decet hymnus Deus, in Sion, et tibi reddetur votum in Ierusalem. Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis caro veniet. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

It was a solemn mass.

I lit a candle for Eno and walked out of Church of the Assumption into the humid night. I could hear the echo of the comforting words of Psalm 30:5.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

But, the memory of Eno would linger until the end of my memories.

As the hummingbirds were hovering
At the awakening of the Morning Glory
Awakening from the bowels of the sunrise
And you were basking and smacking your cherry lips
As you sucked the dewdrops of the morning
I kissed you as you were blossoming and blooming
Then, just before the sun could kiss the skies
I saw the teardrops of the Hawk moth
Chirping under the cover of sackcloth
For the hummingbirds are now mourning
For a shooting star has fallen.

Thank you for taking time to read it.

I owe Eno this memorial and I am going to publish a society magazine to be named after her.

She wanted the best for me.
I cannot forget that.

Wow!!! Is this a novel or a true story?

hype:

Wow!!! Is this a novel or a true story?

This is a true story.

I may write the full length book when God grants me the grace.

I can see you really love the person you are talking about, may i soul rest in perfect peace. It will be great If you are able to launch a magazine in her honour. As for the story I advice you continue to do what you know how to do best cos you write like someone who will have a great career as a writer. have already fallen in love with the little you just wrote. Cant wait for the full story!!

Hype,
Thanks again.

Eno came from Akwa Ibom and lived in England for years before getting married to a Yoruba man from Ede in Osun State. They returned to Nigeria and she became the secretary to the retired Admiral Augustus Aikhomu the second in- command to retired General Ibrahim Badamasi Babaginda. She started publishing the Kiddies World magazine and died during a surgical operation to help her get pregnant. She wanted to have children for her husband and stop her in-laws from making her the subject of their gossip.

Thats really sad. Women that get pregnant without running arround  and afterwards give birth easily dont know how lucky they are. Whlle some are looking for a child some lucky ones are busy aborting babies. Only GOD knows how things work.

@ orikila. You are welcome! Thats really sad. Women that get pregnant without running arround  and afterwards give birth easily dont know how lucky they are. Whlle some are looking for a child some lucky ones are busy aborting babies. Only GOD knows how things work.