By Alfred Odiakosa
. . .Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust. . .
I looked on as Father Dandessy performed his priestly duties by the graveside. I was clad in all white gear — from hair to toe, Black Christians think racism is part of why black is used for mourning, so white is encouraged instead. My mind has wandered back to the church.
Father Dominic, the Parish Priest spoke glowingly about my husband. . . “Chief Sir Barrister Obidiaso, a kindhearted man, benevolent to the society, generous to the church of Christ and an exemplary Christian family man”. Our eyes locked and I nodded in affirmation as he continued his eulogy filled homily.
I felt a hand tap me — I was handed over the spade to pour dirt on the coffin inside the grave.
“Well done Lady Obidiaso. You know. . . in politics, the winner takes it all and the loser, you know that already. Life is like politics, the living has it all and the dead. . . may he rest now — at least you’re free”, Father Dandessy said. I was shocked, my crocodile tears dried up. Does he know or is he making a wild guess? He held his hand over my shoulders as he walked me to a corner, away from the crowd at the graveside. “Do not worry, no sin is above the forgiveness of God”, Father Dandessy finalized. I struggled with words but streams of tears gushed out instead.
I had seen Father Dandessy an uncountable number of times in the past eight months, the heat was unbearable, the beatings, the rapes, the emotional tortures and having to pretend all was well as a Lady Knight. His words always, “Till death do us part” — reminding me about our vows and how there are no grounds for the nullification of my marriage and divorce is no option as I risked being ostracized in church.
Last four weeks, after what would be my last meeting in Father Dandessy’s Parish office, I concluded on my plans. I’ve read up “ABRIN” and have secured a source to get it. When my parcel arrived a week later, I opened it, it was my Abrin — on it, was written “Highly toxic! Can be fatal if ingested”. I only made a cocktail of Abrin and Banana Smoothie and served him his last supper. There was no autopsy, I made sure of that, that’s why the burial took only two weeks, but even if there was, my Abrin takes only drops to act and it is difficult to trace.
“Thanks a lot, Father Dandessy”, I managed to say something coherent while avoiding his gaze.
