You know he was loved because the convoy included a bus to carry the mourners.
because the villagefolk stood by their gates watching as the procession, whose vehicles were accessorised with red cloth, made their way through the narrow paths of Eluhambi towards his home.
because the town drunkard half shoed and with tears in his eyes had to enter the house to view the body.
because the mourners slowly trickled in through the day and through the night to view the still body.
because time limits had to be enforced to curb all the stories that were being told.
because the town sat by a fire reminiscing through the night to guard the red cofin.
because his sisters, his brother, his nieces and nephews had to fight back tears while they introduced themselves.
because mid ceremony the mad man in a suit had to standup and start a parallel ceremony with his tattered bible
because his father had to shakily, while held by his grandsons, make his way to pour soil on the grave.
because the children stood guard at the edge of the grave while the diggers poured cement.
because the eight tents were full
because everyone remembered his smile
because everyone had a story to tell
because we were not sad, but happy, he can now get all the rest he needed.