Why Death Calls at 2am

Why Death Calls at 2am

I lost my last surviving grandparent last week. She was my mum's mother—a gentle woman whose laughter once seemed as endless as the seasons. In my usual nocturnal way, I was in my room, scrolling through Twitter (never calling it X), when I heard my mother's phone ring at exactly 2 a.m. A chill ran down my spine. My parents'

Why Death Calls at 2am

phones never rang at such late hours. If it were mine, I would have brushed it off as one of my 14 situationships trying to reach me. But this? This was different. My mum picked the call, her voice low and steady. I could hear whispers, but there were no screams, no wailings, no tears. Grandma was 92. She had lived a

Why Death Calls at 2am

full life, a life filled with stories of war, loss, wins, and love. Yet, something about that call felt heavy. The last time death called at 2 a.m. was in 2020, when Aunty Grace passed away in the most violent and haunting manner. They said it was a diabolical illness called Buruli Ulcer—or Acha-ere in Igbo. She died

Why Death Calls at 2am

crying. That night is seared into my memory. It was the first time I had ever lost someone I loved. I remember the ringtone of my mum’s phone slicing through the silence of the night like a blade. We were so traumatized that we changed her ringtone the next morning. It’s one of the reasons my phone is permanently on

Why Death Calls at 2am

Do Not Disturb. That night taught me why people hate the sound of their phones ringing. When my mum hung up the call, she turned to me with a calmness that felt unreal. "Mama has gone to rest," she said. Her words hung in the air like a solemn hymn. I wanted to cry but found myself smiling instead. Grandma’s passing

Why Death Calls at 2am

wasn’t like Aunty Grace’s. There was no violence, no struggle. It was peaceful—like the ending of a book that had been read and reread until the pages were worn smooth. I went back to bed but couldn’t sleep. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about death and its uncanny habit of knocking at 2 a.m. Maybe

Why Death Calls at 2am

it’s the hour when the world is quiet enough to hear its footsteps. Or perhaps it’s when the weight of the day has finally lifted, leaving only the raw stillness that allows it to slip in unnoticed. For the first time, I didn’t feel angry at death. Watching my grandmother grow old and peacefully pass on made me

Why Death Calls at 2am

understand that no matter how much we cling to life, our bodies are on borrowed time. They grow weaker, deteriorate, and eventually, they shut down. But death, I realized, isn’t always an enemy. Sometimes, it’s a gentle guide, leading us home after a long and fulfilling journey.