I count my fingers to recount
the days of Ramadan. It’s been six
days. I have been
comtemplating ways to complement
my abstinence. Today, I paid another due
I owe. I accompanied another body to
the gate of the afterlife. A boy, just
on the corridors of puberty. I have no
idea who he was, but I know that a family
has just been bereft of another promise.
Before me stood a man telling stories
of death to other sojourners. I do not
understand arabic quite well, but I’m sure
I heard him say something like, the grave
having its own doors & windows like
other rooms. I saw a man folding his arms
like a boy performing a ritual of songs,
& I wonder for a minute the kind of songs
that can pacify the pain of loss. There
is an emptiness that struck the gathering,
& that was when I believed that graveyard
silence truly existed. Now, surely I know
that death is the only thing that wield
the power to freeze language out
of tongues anticipating a response from
the windows of the afterlife.

Bio: Abubakar Ibrahim is a poet, photographer, project manager, and web developer. He’s currently the Quality Manager at Shepherd Integrated Concept Limited. For him, emotions no matter how dark ot colourful should never be boxed up, it should be felt, and expressed. His works have appeared or are forthcoming in Erogoespel Magazine, Konya Shamsrumi, The Youth Magazine and elsewhere.