My father used to instruct us to walk behind him when facing sniper side of the street.
On the way back home, it was the other way around.
We would then walk in front of him.
I will never forget his words, “I am the one who should get killed first.”
Let it be in order he would say.
Normal human instinct, wishing offspring could outlive you.
Basic survival thinking.
When his son, my brother, was killed,
he was the one who laid his body to the eternal resting place.
It still echoes, “I pray that you bury me when the day comes.
No father, no parent, should bury its own child.
I did it once and I wouldn’t last for the second time.”
My late father passed away on the 23rd of November 2016.
On this day, three years ago, I laid him down to his grave.
It was in order, as he wished.
His legacy lives on.
I am.
Father.
