Bless Mulukwat Akoch. 03/04/2004-07/05/2021

Bless Mulukwat Akoch.

A young, seventeen year old boy, fatally stabbed while basketball volunteering, and only a couple of days before Mother's Day. I cannot imagine the excruciating, numbing pain that her mother will now endure, and the numerous Mother’s Days, and other life events that will forever be changed.

The whole month of May was difficult for friends and families of the Akochs. After hearing the devastating news about Bless’ death, I went to pay my respects to the single mother at a traditional bika. Family and friends of the grieving attend the family home and provide comfort, support and collectively mourn for a period of time, until the funeral. Seeing the mother collapse, as she looked, through a slide of tears, at Bless’ books, his school blazer and extensive shoe collection, made my heart collapse too. I wanted to tell her that it was okay, but how do you tell that to a single mother, who did everything that a mother could do, to see her son win at life, with the comfort and support she didn’t have growing up? How do you tell someone like her, that life will go on, when her son was her life, her protector and her peace?

Bless was a Year 12 student, who had plans to study engineering at university. He had recently come back from studying at a Kenyan boarding school, before wanting to complete his high-school years back in Melbourne. I will always remember him as that family friend who could be mischievous but had a heart full of good-nature and positivity. He had aspirations to help his mother and grandmother holistically and wanted to ensure that his mum no longer had to work two jobs to support Bless. My younger siblings were closer to Bless than I was, but it does not change the close relativity that this death has brought to me. It was only this last summer, that I saw him. A slimmer version of a young boy who I last remembered from years and years ago, a little quieter, or perhaps a more matured version from my memory. Through of all this, I am comprehending what to do when grief isn’t necessarily confined to you.

What do you do when your young brothers and sister are grieving the loss of a friend? What do you do when a sibling breaks down in hysterics, while you are driving home from the bika? What do you do? This has been the closest experience of death for me in life so far. It pangs me to know that it will not be the last experience of such pain, which is attached to the umbilical cord of life itself.

My last funeral was more than ten years ago, and I had forgotten how they entirely work- something I would be happy not to know. I remember distinctly a speaker at the funeral saying Bless’ mother stopped being a mother the day he died. I disagree. She will always be a mother, as she will always love her son unconditionally, regardless of where he is. His physical dimension is gone, but his spiritual dimension will live on. I also disagreed with the parochial view that issue surrounding Bless’ death has a monolithic solution, as it was painted through one of the speakers. The issue of a stabbing that unfortunately led to Bless’ death, I think, has a plethora of perspectives that need to be analysed. Community engagement, youth invincibility and parent relationships, are just a few. Viewed through the multi-dimensional lenses, will hopefully prevent a stabbing like Bless’ from breaking a family and community down again. As Bless’ body was lain into the earth and the coffin closed for the final time amongst the synchronous a cappella of Sudanese hymns, I empathised with the Akoch family, in saying good-bye for the last time.

Additionally, through the funeral, there was a lot of talk about what ifs. I understand why we consider ‘what if’ questions. They help us see things differently. See a life that isn’t the current reality and provide a semblance of knowledge, that we did not have at the time that led to the consideration of what ifs. The what if question of, what if Bless was kept in the boarding school, and had not returned is one of example from the funeral. It makes the pain easier to bear, when considering a choice that we think would lead to a different outcome. But it also adds more pain and blame on ourselves, burdening us with the guilt of paving the way to an end. A ‘what if’, not being reality though, will eat at us until there is no more of us. I don’t know what would help with the what ifs, because I am in no position to feel and comment on specifically on what Bless’ mother is feeling. Is it naïve to say what ifs should be changed to what was? In terms of what was a life that was beautifully lived, that was Bless, regardless of how short it was. What was a blessing to have known and seen Bless grow up into the blossoming young man he was becoming.

Death is an unknown. Our time on this earth is limited, no one day is guaranteed to be the same. Give the flowers and love while you can on this Earth, when it can be appreciated by the people closest to us. Love each other, as Bless loved all his family and friends. And look after your friends.

Bless Mulukwat Akoch, a true blessing to the world.