Memoirs of the village Vol 2 - On Burials celebrations and customs

When my uncle died,i was hard hit. I couldnt understand why a final year medical student at the university of Port Harcourt would just die,it was hard to fathom how someone i had spoken to some months back was gone and i would never see him again. 

Uncle Inyene was my mother's youngest brother,he was a lively soul,the bright star and i looked up to him. He would tutor me in mathematics and make fun of me when all i wanted to read were pacesetters and Mills and Boons,so when he died ,i was a bit lost,i couldnt even see his body ,i overheard my mother telling her younger sister ''Inyene looked so lean and different'' i held the pillow and cried that night as i'm crying now. 

I had barely gotten back from Togo were id spent a year as a foreign student. 

So we went to the village. 

As i travelled with my mom via Edo Line transport i imagined what the village would look like,my grandparents compound,the pear trees i used to climb,the orange trees that stood infront of the building . I even thought about the mango trees in the backyard were i would run out early in the mornings especially after rainy and windy nights to pick the lush and ripened mangoes that the wind would have blown down.

We got to Abak Ifia after some days,we had stopped in Port Harcourt to make  arrangements to take his body home,i wore black and we rode in the car behind the ambulance that carried his body. I was pensive all through the 1hour and some minutes trip to the village. 

The compound looked far different than i remembered it ,vast and devoid of laughter,pensive faces stared at us,no effusive welcomes as id been used to.....my grandma wasnt there and neither was my grandfather,they had died in 1999,a month apart,but when my grandma had died it was different,maybe because she was older,the compound was fuller then,grandpa was in his rocking chair on the verandah,he called my name and he hugged me,when he saw my mother it was as if his strength was renewed, when grandma died,there were the usual activities,there was a band playing live music as she lay in state,i saw grandma,i rubbed the ''tony montana' powder as is custom allover my neck,the mortician came to the house to embalm her body,she lay on a white magnificient bed,although  we all cried so much,there was still a ray of hope because we were all together.......

But when Inyene died ,there was only gloom and despair,the ambulance drove straight to our village church for Mass ,and then back to the compound for Inyene to be buried ,then everyone dispersed,there was an emptiness i couldnt describe and nothing was ever the same again.