I watched as everyone ran around preparing for my arrival, even people that never cared about me were present. I eyed them in disgust as I watched their show of hypocrisy.

At a very early stage of my life ,I was told that as a man I had to always show strength and never break down like a woman. My father told me that black men were strong and fearless. Even as a child when I was hurt and needed to unburden myself with streams of tears, my father's fierce looks made me hold back the tears that burned my eyes. I was told that men don't cry, I heard the words "be a man" over and over again. I learnt fast, did what was expected of me. I started to lock in my emotions quite early, learnt to endure tough situations.

As I grew up ,life was very unfair, I was afraid of failure. My father often told me that a man should never relent until he made it in life. I persevered, worked hard.

Countless times the hot sun burned my skin. My hands became hardened from toiling .
I was tired, I was sad. But the fear of failure chocked me more than my deteriorating health. "I am a man ,of course I could manage."
I watched as women unburdened themselves with tears, some even tried to get help. I envied them, I needed help too. But I was scared to be called weak, to be called a weak man scared the hell out of me. I am the son of my father, I am a man of course I could manage.
I started to cough, I got some medicines from a nearby pharmacist, I couldn't afford to waste money in a hospital. "I am a man,of course I could manage "..
I got very weak, I would have lay at home for a day or two but my family, I needed to work hard to make them comfortable. I jumped into my jean and shirt and staggered down the ragged road. "I am a man, of course I could manage"..
I worked hard as usual, I was tired but "I am a man ,of course I could manage ".

Suddenly, the earth started to spin. I fell on the floor with a thud and every where turned black.

I woke up in a lightly lighted place, I saw men everywhere. Broken ,battered and beaten men. Men whose backs were bent from carrying huge wares. Men who were bitter.
At the extreme end was a crying man, he cried like he was releasing all the tears and frustration he held back for years. He committed suicide, i wasn't surprised. 80% of suicides are done by men.
I saw men who died from taking risks.
I saw men who died of diabetes ,hypertension, stroke.
I saw men who had tough marriages, that were verbally and domestically abused and were scared to speak out for fear of being called weak and useless.
I thought about how even the society dances more to the tune of women .
No wonder there are books and journals for women littered around and very few for men. Most men even forget to read .
No wonder men are estimated to die faster than women.
I sat amongst them and cried, it was the end of the road for me.

So today is the day my body finally comes home. The day when the same people who pushed me away would cry for me. I watch as people that never knew me recount my life, everyone with their own version of how my life was.
Some say I was poisoned, others say I was attacked by a witch or something diabolical .They say my death couldn't have been natural,they say I was healthy. I never complained of even the slightest headache, how come I was hale and hearty one minute and dead the next minute? They say the only sensible explanation is that I was killed in some sort of way.
I stare at them with wide eyes. If only they knew how empty I was, how messed up my emotions were, how sad my last days were.
I flinch as I watch them lay curses on my killer , what they do not know is that I am my killer,that I destroyed myself with my bogus ego.

I don't want another man to make my mistake, to end the way I did.
Someone Pls tell the men that it is OK for them to cry, not bottling their emotions doesn't make them less of a man.
Tell them that they are no God, the emotions that erupt within them is normal. Tell them to stop hating their emotions, the lies that they have been told that emotions compromise with their masculinity is from the pit of hell.
Tell them it's insane for them to keep being at war with themselves and keep trying to be what they are not.
Tell them it's OK to cry.
It's OK to be weak and tired.
It's OK to want a hug.
It's OK to want to talk to someone.
It's OK to admit to be depressed.

I have roamed the earth and seen a lot of empty men.
Men who are walking carcasses, broken and battered men that drown their pain with alcohol.
Men who are afraid to admit that they are tired and weak.
Men whose fear of failure would in the nearest future push them to their early graves.
Tell them that failure is not falling down but staying down.

I watch as my body is lowered into mother earth, I hear my mother crying for me, she is praying for my soul and silently cursing my killer.

I wish I knew better, I wish I knew what I know now. I wish I told someone about my pains, I wish I shed those tears that burned my eyes. I wish, ooo I wish.
Oh men, dear men. There are lots of things I want to tell this generation of men but how? Who would tell the men?

DEDICATED TO ALL MEN WHO TOIL DAY AND NIGHT TO SURVIVE AND WHOSE LIVES HAVE BEEN LOST IN THE STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE.
Take it easy, remember you have one life.

"Drops mic, sways hair and catwalks away "
©Laura Ezinne Idika