My grandmother successfully died. I use the adverb ‘successfully’ because she had been trying to die for quite a while.
Her first attempt was by the noose but she tied the rope too long and only broke a leg when she jumped from the tree. Because of it she had to be assisted to go to the loo. But being a geriatric with a weak bladder, her nurse elected to make a hole in the mattress and keep a kasuku tin under the bed.
From that, we coined a nickname for the poor old lady; nyanya kasuku. Of course the nickname was all hushed up. If she ever heard you using it she’d threaten to cast a spell so that your two buttocks would merge to form one large buttock. I shudder at the prospect of having a derriere without a cleavage or an opening for you-know-what.
The second time she attempted using pills. See, with pills all you’ve got to do is take lots of them. A good choice would be, say, quinine tablets. That’s where my granny bungled up. She went into my grandfather’s drawer, took out a pack of pills and swallowed. Instead of dying, she started feeling flushed, strangely excited, her heartbeat elevated, her body felt young again, amorous…feelings she hadn’t had since she started losing teeth. Turned out she had taken grandpa’s Viagra.
She didn’t die; instead she went looking for grandpa in their banana plantation. Believe me they started their second honeymoon right there in the farm and later that night broke their bed of forty years.
This last time she took a sachet of rat poison, downed it with a bottle of cattle dip and then, for good measure, took a dive into a river. The old lady died. I didn’t really sob for her, but if you’re offering a drink I can pretend to be terribly devastated!
While on the subject, I want my death quick; like an accident where I die on the spot. This is why I don’t eat when I travel. I don’t want to get constipation whilst in a coffin. Certainly not with the long burial ceremonies we have. You could suffer for days before you get the chance to soil yourself in the privacy of your grave.
Come to think of it, if you guys buy my corpse a suit, what’s the use of pants?
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