The entrance to the tunnel was wide, yet people squeezed themselves through.
The person who was supposed to control the crowd gave up such a role as he himself wanted to enter the tunnel.
Those with money paid their ways through, while the weak and the poor got pushed out of the tunnel or squashed against the tunnel entrance.
What frustrated most is that the queues were already long at the time the walls of the tunnel were showing cracks.
I built this tunnel,
To shape like a funnel,
A very tortuous channel.
I saw fist-fights, I saw knives, and I saw the most lethal of weapons. People fought for a space inside the tunnel. Many died before they could reach the mouth of the tunnel.
The more one walked inside the tunnel it became narrower. People pressed against each other – the movement was painfully slow, while sometimes there would be no movement.
The further people marched inside the tunnel, the slower the queues, and the hotter it became.
One lady gave birth, assisted by her two young boys (6 years and 2 years).
The old man who coughed and died from TB wanted to know how did young kids enter the tunnel.
The new born died from suffocation while her mother died from post partum hemorrhage, leaving behind her two young kids.
In the tunnel there are no relatives and no friends. In the tunnel there are no debtors and creditors. Inside the tunnel the law is that of the jungle, survival of the luckiest.
Towards the end of the tunnel there were many dead bodies. The floor became more and more slippery from human faeces, urine, vomitus, human fat and saliva.
The walls of the tunnels oozed with sweat, with blood and tears of those who came before.
There were cracks from which the cries of the dead could be heard.
At the end of the tunnel there were fires of hell.
Many towards the end wanted to turn back, but there was no turning back – those inside the tunnel were pushing themselves towards the end.
One mad man walked straight into the burning fire, singing Hallelujah. Some young ladies covered their faces with their hands and cried their ways through. Some of the young ladies scratched the walls of the tunnel, refusing to enter into the burning fire. Some held tight to those who were still in the tunnel, while some tried to break the walls of the tunnel, attempting to escape.
Sexual intercourse could be the only activity inside the tunnel, but people feared contracting some diseases.
But does it matter any more?
Does it matter how one dies when death is a final call – inevitable call?
Does it matter how one dies when death is NOW and LARGE?