It was a lone evening,
and we were on our way to the last few houses for the day.
To finish early, we decided to call one of our extended relatives —
hoping we’d be free by 7, maybe 7:30.
We left the previous house around 6:30.
That house was alive —
kids running around, adults in conversation,
teasing, laughter, talks of marriage,
plans, and maybe a child in the coming years.
They insisted we stay for dinner,
but we politely refused —
saying we had more houses to visit,
and that we’d eat at home with my sister,
the bride to be.
A few minutes before 6:30, we stepped out
and decided to walk to the last house.
It was just a few blocks away.
—
It was a four-storey house.
We rang the bell,
and after a moment,
a frail old woman opened the door.
Her fingers were curled inward,
only the thumb moved freely.
Imagine holding the stem of a wine glass without your thumb —
and then living like that every day.
(Image at the end…)
She asked us to come in.
———
Her husband had passed away suddenly
a heart attack, in the bathroom.
And now, she lived alone.
Her son and daughter-in-law had moved abroad.
The decision was made quietly,
and told to her only weeks before they left.
The grandchildren —
the reason she woke up every day,
went with them.
—
She walked us upstairs slowly,
a slight limp in her step.
The house was big.
Too big.
A sofa, a television,
three rooms, a kitchen,
and a balcony that opened to a park outside.
But it felt empty.
—
She brought a tray.
Two empty glasses.
A bottle of cold water.
She asked us to pour it ourselves.
There was something in her eyes —
something between hesitation and acceptance.
I poured the water,
and asked if she’d like some.
She said she had already had water at 5.
She wouldn’t need it till later.
We couldn’t drink either.
—
Her maid arrived soon after,
and brought tea and some snacks.
Before we left,
she spoke about her son,
her family,
the sweet noise that once filled the house.
Then she said,
“This house…
it’s just four walls now.
I feel trapped inside it.”
—
She picked up a the big box of bhaji (sweet)we brought
“What will I even do with this?” she asked.
“I won’t be able to finish it.”
My mother smiled and said,
“Slowly…
you will.”
She smiled back.
—
She asked us to stay for a meal.
We refused again.
A few more minutes passsed,
and after she promised to come for my sister’s wedding,
we got up to leave.
—
As we stepped out,
something didn’t feel right.
And then she said it.
“They’ll find me dead someday…
and even then, they won’t be able to come.
Someone else will do the final rites.
Maybe someone my daughter in law’s brother who lives nearby…!
Because I know…
they won’t be able to.”
—
Fin.
A sad reality that I witnessed that day,
and felt like it had to be brought to this world…!
Keep your loved ones near and call your parents if you haven’t,
Meet them,
tell them you love them,
and hug them…!
While you can…!
Love Waakiye 🤍
Waakiye 
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