It’s a while now, since we lost 147 young souls and it troubles me that the dust seems to have settled especially in the corridors whose voices would make a difference. At least it seems that way. They have not spoken much about it. Surprising? No. We were not told or taught but most of us have come to the silent understanding that when the only voices you hear are the cries of the broken, you accept the fact that they may never say anything more. Perhaps nothing more than the contents of a letter. One though well meaning, holds no solace to the blood that calls out for justice.

I have thought of what I would have done if I were there. Would I have made it out? Nnwa, I will not lie. I do not think I would. I have seen the light flicker then die in the eyes of the parents who had to seek out who was theirs from the rubbles of bodies – the only memories they could get back of what was once their child.

I have never seen your grandfather mourn. I have seen him angry but he has always been strong. This would have shattered him. I do not know that he can cry or wail. When I try to imagine what he would have done, the only thing that comes to mind is a snuffed candle whose only memory of the flame is the winding curl of white smoke. It would have killed a part of him. Your grandmother – I fear to even consider what this experience would have meant for her. So I do not. Even the thought of it, of a mother’s loss, is too fierce an emotion to try and stir.

I have been shocked. I have been angry. Now I feel like a drop of rain trying to quench parched soil – helpless. For many families across our land, tears still run and for the lives we lost, blood still cries out. I am afraid that these tears will run till they run dry as the cries turn into screams and maybe then, someone will hear. Someone will speak for them. A voice that will bring not just promise but will evoke the justice that is said to be our shield and defender.

Everyday seems to paint a picture of a world I am no longer sure you will be safe in. Yet still I trust that He that keeps me will do the same for you. It is the one thing that keeps us going – faith. Tonight I pray for the families they left behind. I pray that somehow, faith will ease their pain, restore their faith in brighter days and help them through this darkness for. I cannot begin to understand what they are going through; that is all I know to offer. Pray for them too Nnwa, my own may fail to reach beyond the skies but yours, yours will.