"I’m coming!" he called back as he tried to gulp down the last of his orange juice.

"No you’re not!" I groaned, "You’re as slow as a turtle and we’ve probably already missed the bus."

Tonbara rolled his eyes and followed me out the door, calling back into the house, "Bye Mom and Dad… Bye Timi, Gesiye and Ineye."

I grumbled my good-byes and moodily walked beside my quiet brother in the dark streets towards the bus stop.

"What’s the matter with you anyway? PMS?" he asked amusingly and took my books from me, a routine he normally did every morning.

I glared at his dark face and rolled my eyes. "Why are you so slow in everything?"

"It’s a Monday, Dee… Chill out! What are you so stressed about?"

I took a deep breath as we crossed the street, "I have three tests today… In my hard classes too. I can’t stand those teachers."

My brother was quiet for a moment and then sighed, "Well… School’s dumb anyway, so don’t let school get to you like that." He nudged my shoulder, "Take care of yourself," he whispered and with his free hand, he waved at his oncoming friends.

I sighed, heeding his advice and took back my books as we reached the bus stop. I whispered, "See ya later, Tonbara."

He nodded absentmindedly, "Bye…" he then walked off to meet his friends.

That was Monday morning, December 9th 2002.

The next day, on Tuesday morning at about 5 o’clock, my beloved baby brother, Tonbara Joshua Komonibo was taken up to be with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I was taken aback by this incident and still can remember vividly when we found him that dreadful morning. His lithe, uncovered chest as my father tried to revive him, his small beautiful eyes closed as he slept on forever and his long fingers, like mine, no longer able to hold a grip! Beneath my tears, I watched in a blurry state as the paramedics carried my brother’s body away and I kept on praying aloud, claiming the same resurrection that Jesus gave Lazarus.

I kept murmuring while holding my younger siblings, "Not Tonbara… Not him…" but at the back of my mind, I knew he was not coming back and I had to take care of my younger siblings without his help. I kept worrying about what I would say to Gesiye when he needed to talk about boy things. Would I understand any of it? Would I be already married and experienced enough to understand the wonders of manhood? Or would I be helpless and never find the help to aid my brother’s growth as a man?

I never questioned God because I knew it would be a sin and Tonbara had said earlier with such passion that he wouldn’t want to curse God or query God’s plan about anything. So I was numb and never asked anything of him. I could remember as my father tried to perform CPR and I pleaded with God to perform a miracle. I cried blindly, "God please… bring my brother back and I won’t ask for anything again." I knelt on my knees and started to remember all the miracles Jesus had performed on the already deceased when he was on earth.

I felt and also knew I had to be strong for my family, being the oldest of all my siblings.I also knew that I couldn’t cry profusely or like my mother said, cry like ‘unbelievers who have no hope.’ Sometimes, before my brother exit from the world, I could always count on him to take half my load of responsibilities and help me raise our siblings, but now I know I’m alone to be the role model for my sisters and my brother.

On Thursday, two days after Tonbara’s exit from this planet, I tried to go to school. My father dropped me off and immediately, I began to reminisce when Tonbara would carry my books and we would converse all the way into the intersection where we separated. In the school, there is an intersection where on the left side is the library and straight-ahead is the cafeteria. We would normally split after our see-ya-laters, he would go straight ahead to the cafeteria and I'd turn left to the library. But on that day when I was alone, I began to cry. The bell had already rung so I was basically late for my first class. With my vision cloudy, I walked weakly upstairs to my locker, carried my books and made my way to my class. On my way to my class, I saw one of my friends and by the look on her face, it ignited my tears. In class, I tried to sit and watch the film, but all I could think about was my brother and I began to cry again and it angered me that no one else was crying for him. In fact, most of them were laughing, maybe because of the Huckleberry Finn video. I rushed out the door and began to cry angry tears and my teacher came out to comfort me.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stay the whole day and I called my mom to come pick me up. All through the rest of that week, I didn’t go to school and our house welcomed many visitors who comforted us and prayed for us. My friends came, and even the guy I liked came to comfort me. And for the first time, my heart no longer jumped when he was around. In my mind, I could remember my brother’s warning, yet teasing voice as he frowned at me, "If he ever touches you, I’ll beat him up." I laughed in my mind, but not aloud because the guy I like had given me my first hug from him. But I didn’t care at the time.

The next few days I was numb. My family had planned to have his funeral and the memorial service on Saturday, so we had to make a short video of his life and gather all his pictures. In my mind, I was amazed at how my brother had grown from a plump little boy to the handsome boy on the Alabama trip during Thanksgiving. On that morning it was a sunny, quiet day as we headed towards the Houston Memorial Gardens, where they would bury the body of my brother. I cried as they opened the casket and I saw for the second time that week how peaceful and beautiful my brother looked. In my heart, I knew he wasn’t in that body, but was rejoicing with the others and the angels. He was praising God in his heavenly dwelling place. But the feeling of not having my best friend and my brother around was torture. We watched them lower the casket into the ground and I remembered the words of my father the night before when he read from John 14 about Jesus going back to heaven to prepare a mansion for each of us. I knew Tonbara was enjoying the presence of Jesus and exploring his mansions and the fields of heaven.

The next week, we all had to go back to our regular lives. My siblings and I went back to school, my parents went back to their lives and we lived on without the my brother. Sometimes, I think about my brother and still cry and then I get extremely angry at the joviality of many others around me when I grieve the loss of my brother. I dislike it when others nonchalantly laugh and joke about different things, especially death.

Our lives began to change very slowly. I was now alone to take care of my siblings. Before Tonbara left the earth, my role as the first born didn’t seem so significant since he was only a year younger than me, but now that he was gone there became a big gap between me and my sister, Timi who is three years younger. I was angry at some people who came to comfort us and whispered to me before they left that I should, "be the oldest in the family and be strong for everyone of them." In my mind I was yelling, "What do you know about the role of a firstborn when you’re not one yourself." But I knew they were right to some extent. So from that day on, I no longer cried when I saw my brother’s face and whenever I saw a picture or anything that reminded me of him, I would try to ignore the empty feeling felt inside of me. I willed myself not to cry for two weeks and whenever my mother and brother would begin to cry, I swallowed my own tears and took on the job of a firstborn and comforted them.

I thought I was past the stages of grieving a loss until one day, a few days after Christmas and our whole house was full of people. I was alone, pondering about life in general and my thoughts suddenly stumbled on Tonbara. Being the ‘strong’ firstborn, I gulped back my tears, ignored the painful lump in my throat and got up downstairs to get a picture of my brother, with the intent of sketching him. I hadn’t done any artwork since summer and I didn’t feel like drawing, but I willed myself to get my sketchbook, my pencil and sat on my makeshift bed. I tried to draw his face, trying to ignore those small intense eyes of his, but in the end my emotions won. My eyes became blurry and my hand began to shake. I got angry with myself for crying and I looked around me to see if my siblings were nearby. I knew that if I started crying, it would be a Domino effect. My cousin Jo would start, then Timi, then Gesiye, then Ineye and maybe my mother, when she sees us weeping our loss. And truly, my calculations were right. As soon as the tears rolled down my cheeks, my cousin started to sniff, Timi’s eyes were wet and then my brother started wailing. Fortunately, Ineye was occupied with her younger cousin, playing Barbie dolls and didn’t participate in the Domino experience. I began to weep, whispering my apologies for starting it up and tried to will back my tears, but the pain in my throat got more painful and I couldn’t see. I became angry at my siblings and I for being so helpless and so I rushed out of my sister’s room and into my own where I poured out my anger in the air, talking to Tonbara. I couldn’t yell, so I gripped my hair and called out, "How could you leave us like this? How could you?" I started to cry harder, "You were supposed to take care of us just like I took care of you… Remember? When I was one and a half years old, I took you with me everywhere. I loved you. You were my best friend, did you know that?" My heart was aching with so much grief and I longed to see Tonbara’s face again. To grab his shoulders and shake him and have him listen to me complain. After I had yelled out my anger at him, I began to reflect on myself. "Why am I so moody always? Why couldn’t I be like you, not quick to anger? Why do I push everyone away, while you pull everyone close to you?" I knelt beside my bed, buried my face in the pillow and wept for a long time.