F*ck Cancer! (A tribute for my Auntie Joyce)
Every single graduation she was there.
I’m talking high school, my first college degree, and my master’s!
She was always there beaming with pride saying “I’m proud of you, baby”.
In my world where aunties are quick to criticize or tell on me, She was unique.
When I sneaked to get my tattoo, I told her first!
Of course, she reacted with nothing more than laughs- She stayed in her own lane.
I remember hugging her after my master’s degree ceremony and whispering “one more to go ooo.”
A few minutes before she hugged me, another aunt told me I needed to hurry and get married because “the book business too much na.”
Not her. She wanted me to continue my education.
She didn’t have a label, but dare I say she was all about women’s equality (hello feminist!).
When I had a heartbreak, she told me “you will have more options ahead ehn you learning book?”
She reminded me of my worth and pushed education as a catalyst for change.
She always smiled when you talked to her. Her laugh was so infectious.
Even during our phone calls and check-ins, you could hear her cheerful voice through the phone.
When I went through periods of only school and work with no time for anything else, we’d laugh about my busy schedule, or eating rice on the train, or my love life (or lack thereof).
I honestly had a personal therapist in her – she listened, offered advice, and made no judgments.
Still hard to believe she was not even the sister of my mother or father (you know African Aunties need no bloodline).
Sometimes, I can still almost hear her laugh.
I even had a dream once that she had me laughing until I woke up.
I remember when the call came to inform me she was no more and how heavy my feet felt that moment.
I am not aware of any means to speak to the dead, but I wish I had a way to keep hearing her laugh.
Unfortunately, I must live with the reality that cancer took her away from me for good.
Here in the U.S. alone, over 1,806,590 new cases of cancer were diagnosed in 2020 and 606,520 people died from the disease.
I can only imagine the pain of 606,520 people that could have had an Auntie like her.
The sad reality remains that death is the only thing certain about life.
As we continue to deal with losses, I have a message for cancer:
Fuck you, from the bottom of my heart!
Signed: Zuleka
Authored by: Randell Zuleka Dauda
Featured Image by: Anderson Rian on Unsplash
