Disclaimer: This post is extremely SHORT
Back in primary school, I always wondered how simple everything was.
I mean, there was a way the teacher made everything so simple and easy to learn. You know, like the story of Simon Makonde. It was more of a song really. Helped us remember the sequence in which the days of the week went.
Well, sometimes when life gets so hard, and so tough. As it will always do once adulthood sets in. On those days when the rain is pouring and am low and down and damn near depressed. On the days when I have switched off my phone, and don’t want to look at anything on it. When I lock my windows and draw my curtains and shut out the light. On those days when I listen to sad RnB songs and a bit of Avril Lavigne and Katy Perry. On days when I recall the lyrics of the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers.
It is on such days that I recall the story of Simon Makonde, who lived through from Monday to Sunday; from his birth to his death. His story reminds me how simple and organized life should be. It makes me feel like God may secretly have OCD. Because how else can one’s special life events be arranged so sequentially, birth –Monday, naming-Tuesday, marriage – Wednesday, illness – Thursday, treatment – Friday, death – Saturday, and burial – Sunday.
The story of Simon Makonde also reminds me how unfair life is. That you could be born on Monday, and die before the next week. Of course I know that’s not possible. But you try explaining that to my nine-year old brain that was the recipient of that story. Whenever I think of that song, I internalize the fact that life is meant to be unfair. Organized, but very unfair. That you could be done and dusted before you are ever ready to leave just yet. So I do not like to think of Simon Makonde when am down and on speed zero. Because it always ends up making me more depressed.