Chimamanda Adichie grieves father, says she’s helpless in the US

Chimamanda Adichie, says she is stuck in the United States anticipating Nigeria’s airspace to revive for global flights.

The creator said arranging an entombment “in these COVID-scarred occasions” could be “stupefying” because of the remaining alive conclusion of Nigerian air terminals to resume worldwide flights.

Portraying her experience and view on her father’s death, the writer composed on her confirmed Facebook page, saying;

“Because I loved my father so much, so fiercely, so tenderly, I always at the back of my mind feared this day. But he was in good health. I thought we had time. I thought it wasn’t yet time. I have come undone. I have screamed, shouted, rolled on the floor, pounded things. I have shut down parts of myself.

““The children and I adore him,” my mother wrote in a tribute when he was made professor emeritus. We are broken. We are bereft, holding on to one another, planning a burial in these COVID-scarred times. I am stuck in the US, waiting. The Nigerian airports are closed. Everything is confusing, uncertain, bewildering.

“Sleep is the only respite. On waking, the enormity, the finality, strikes – I will never see my father again. Never again. I crash and go under. The urge to run and run, to hide from this. The shallow surface of my mind feels safest because to go deeper is to face unbearable pain. All the tomorrows without him, his wisdom, his grace.”

Adichie said she talked practically day by day with her late dad and frequently sent him her movement schedules, including that his words before any of her stage appearances lifted her spirit.

the creator further expressed on her Facebook page;

” “I saw him last on March 5th in Abba. I had planned to be back in May. We planned to record his stories of my great grandmother.

“Grief is a cruel kind of education. You learn how ungentle mourning can be, how full of anger. You learn that your side muscles will ache painfully from days of crying. You learn how glib condolences can feel.”

“My father was Nigeria’s first professor of Statistics who studied Mathematics at Ibadan and got his PhD in Statistics from Berkeley, returning to Nigeria shortly before the Biafran War…I am writing about my father in the past tense, and I cannot believe that I am writing about my father in the past tense. My heart is broken,”