The place of the dead.

** Some Graphic descriptive words are used in this morbid post. If you get scared while picturing things, this read might not be for you**

There's something about a mortuary.

I cannot expressly remember ever being INSIDE one, even though i have gone there several times before. You get what i mean?

Everyone has watched films where some unfortunate family member has to go to the morgue to identify their loved ones... They come in tentatively, an attendant meets them and leads them to a covered sheet or a chest of drawers and opens it for them to behold...the tears then start flowing as they confirm and are led out back…sigh..

My first visit inside one was when I travelled back home after dad died and had to go to the morgue to pay my respects/see him/make sure he was being taken care of.

Holy Rosary hospital Emekuku, quite sensibly, located theirs quite a way out in their sprawling facility and honestly, it was very peaceful and quiet. I went with uncles Emma, Maurice and Emeka, and to be honest, I still don’t know what to make of the whole experience…

We arrived and had to wait for the attendant who had gone somewhere. We stayed gisting for a bit till he came and these fucking butterflies in my stomach picked up the pace of their fluttering significantly.

Apparently, he knows Uncle Emma who was the one that did all the initial procedures after Dad passed and then turns to look at the rest of us. At first, he stares thoroughly at us as if trying to determine our suitability to view what we came for and after satisfying himself, shakes hands with us all. He tells us to hold on and goes into another office for a few minutes and comes out with the key to another room beside. He opens it and we soberly file in.

It’s not the smell that hits you first as all the books will claim. For me, the sights registered before the smell of whatever awful chemicals they use for their work.

There is no way to couch this nicely. It’s a fucking ugly place!

I register about three different bodies, all stiff and stretched out before I see my dad laid out on a concrete slab in the middle of two other bodies. He looks….peaceful and it’s as if he’s rubbed cream all over his face and body! I cannot tear my eyes away as I see that there’s only a piece of cloth covering his midsection.

The one thing I notice that startles me and starts to get me pissed off is that there’s a rope of some sort which has been used to bind his legs together. I’m about to take it up with the attendant when all of a sudden, and I’m not exaggerating here, an IMMENSE feeling of total sadness engulfs me and I finally decide not to say anything.

This sad feeling persists and I don’t even realize I’ve been rooted to the same spot, staring at my dad for  about two minutes or more until I feel a continuous strong tug on my arm as Uncle Maurice pulls me away and tells me we have to go.

I mentally pull myself back and say a temporary goodbye to my dear dad.

It’s crazy.

May the soul of Nze Cosmas Ibemere and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in perfect peace.