Sadness 2

The funeral day.
Aunts arrive from far away places. They have come to mourn the only son who could have saved the family( in future) from the grinding poverty. As per the customs, two banana stems are planted on the path leading to the compound. That proclaims the message that a funeral is in progress. That is, incase the public address system that is a must have in every funeral is missing. The lack of such potrays the height of poverty and that you are the lowest life form in the village and that no one gives a rats tail about you. 
This family is poor, that is apparent, they can not even manage to convince the priest to come and do the last rites. The priest will not get enough 'sadaka'. So instead, he sends a mere cathecist in his place. There are not many people at the funeral. Those villagers who come just show up for formality's sake. They must come or their own funerals will be empty too. The genuine mourners have been camping there for the whole mourning period. The people sit on a small garden that had  previously contained vegetables. What will the family eat after the funeral is done?
The mother sits sorrounded by her sisters and close friends. She is genuinely mourning. The father sits beside her wearing an expression that does not tell anything he is thinking or feeling. You cannot tell the bereaved family apart from the other mourners. The family could not afford mourning clothes, they choose to wear their sunday best instead. The little kids are seated just behind their mother evidently confused  and bored with the whole proceedings.
The eulogy is about to be read. What is there to say? What had the little boy achieved? How many hearts had he broken? How many times had he had his heart broken? It is a short eulogy. After all he was only in class seven. They say how nice a kid he was. Isnt everyone at the time of their untimely demise?
The coffin is simple, timber boards carefully nailed together by the village carpenter. The timber was donated by the village. The coffin has been painted a dull brown. Perhaps an attempt to make it look nice. Definately the little guy did have agemates who will miss him especialy in play, but they are not old enough to be the pall bearers or the grave diggers.
He is buried in the afternoon. The weather is nothing like it was in the morning. The sun was fierce and unrelentlessy schorching. The head of his grave bears a simple cross that has been paited white with his name and age written in black. The skies are overcast and pregnant with rain. On his grave is a simple home made wreath of bounghavillea flowers.
PETER MANG'ABO
1998-2012
RIP