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| MUM AND I |
In this life, I have always had two mothers, my
biological mother and an auntie who is childless. My parents are still alive.
For most of my young life I was raised by my auntie whom I call mum. I was not
born with ‘a silver spoon in my mouth’. My parents came from a poor home and
had average education. They were common Civil servants who earned minimum wage.
This is dedicated to mothers but I must say that, my father was ever present in my life and he played his role to perfection but I will not talk about that for
now.
FOND
MEMORIES
As a kid I always considered and still consider my
mum the most intelligent one because she was the one who stopped everything she
was doing to help me with my home work; no offence to dad.
When I played truant in town my mum will defend me
with her life but will put me straight with punishment once we got home. Unless
you knew, you would think my ‘mums’ and I are friends. When we had some really
bad economic times, my mother will ensure my siblings and i had enough to eat
even if it meant she had to go to bed with empty stomach. My other mum (auntie)
saved all her earnings to give me one of the best high school education one can
ever get. When I had periods of unemployment, my ‘mothers’ were always there to
bail me out with the free meals. Of course
it was not all cozy and rosy. We had our differences too. Till date, my mum
(biological) still sees me as her little baby boy, a real point of disagreement
and often argument but these are minute issues compared to the love I have
received.
A
TRUE STORY
I remember one very important moment in my life. It
was one Saturday in high school when I was doing some bespoke alteration on my
trousers so I can look good for entertainment night. I stuck the needle in my mattress
as I went out briefly to get something. On my return, I forgot I had a needle in
my mattress so in an attempt to reach my trousers on the further side of the
bed, I knelt on it and it pierced straight from the point of its head and stuck
into my left knee. I knew immediately that I was in trouble so i reported it to
my house head who also doubles as a tutor of the school. He came to inspect the
area and insisted it’s impossible for something like that to happen. The next
day I had a swollen knee and I could barely walk but my house head acting like
a medical expert, insisted it was just an injury so I should give it time and
it will heal ( I could only go to hospital on his permit). Seeing the danger I was
in, I requested a friend to steal his way to town and phone my mum. He did! By
Monday I couldn’t get out of bed. At the risk of losing her job and without
permission from her superior, my mum (auntie) took the 2 hour trip to my school,
picked me up without permission to hospital; never bothered by angst of the
school authorities. She used all her connections to get me a quick x-ray and an
immediate surgery. She stayed by my bed until I was discharged that night and
took me to my dormitory before making the 2 hour journey back home. The next
day, she received a serious query and suspension from work but she was never
moved once my life was saved. At the time, I got to know my biological mum was
also ill that was why she couldn’t join her but who cares, I am extremely lucky
to have two mothers. Till date, I keep the rusted needle that was retrieved
from my knee as a memory of the event.
A
MOST INSPIRING STORY
It was a sweaty afternoon and I was on my way to
lectures during my university years. A young girl about the age of 11 years,
holding a large tray and socked in tears stopped me and requested I gave her
some money. She seemed like an intelligent little girl by her demeanour. Call her Lariba! Her reason! She hawks oranges in the streets
as a help to her mother and she had just been robbed of her day’s sales by a
gang of street boys. Lariba was scared of facing her mother’s wrath. I had no
problem sparing my lunch money for that day so I gave it to her but I had one other
problem, though. Which cruel and lazy mother would allow her child to hawk
oranges in this hot sun whiles her peers were in school studying? I would be
late for lectures but never mind, I was so agitated that I wanted to meet her
mother, who also traded a few thousand meters away so that I can pour out my
wrath on her. As we approached the spot, Lariba pointed to a disabled woman who
was just about crawling and struggling to climb into her wheelchair after
serving a customer, as her mum. Suddenly, the aggression in me vanished and I approached
her calmly. I told her Lariba’s story and how scared she was coming back
without the day’s sales. In tears, this woman hugged her child and told me she
would never be angry with Lariba. That she happens to be a single mum and
Lariba had been sacked the previous day for non-payment of school fees. She
sells oranges and saves the proceeds to care for Lariba and herself. Lariba had
actually volunteered to help her sell that day by hawking around. Their life as
mum and daughter was so touching and most inspiring to me than many experiences
I have had in life. Unfortunately, this was a period when Cellular phones were a
luxury so we lost contact. I went back after a few weeks to visit but I was
told they had relocated. Strange but this is a country where until recently disability
issues were ignored and many struggle to make ends meet. I know the resilience
of Lariba’s mother, coupled with Lariba’s intelligence will see them through.
NOT
SO FOND MEMORIES
Then again, I look at the mother who ‘never loved’
her child and wonder if that is really possible. I find it hard to believe there
are mothers who do not love their children and as I grew up and understood life
and its happenings, I became more confused. I ask myself, is it possible for a
mother to love a child who is a product of rape? Stories of mothers abandoning their
children abound. The story of my cousin
is a typical example. Here’s a kid whose mother left him after 4 months when he
had not yet been weaned off breast milk. His dad (my uncle) became both mother
and father to him. He never bothered to find his mother until his father passed.
Somehow, when he did find his mother eventually, it was a happy re-union. Apparently
the mother has been trying to get him but she always hesitated because of the
guilt. We say “blood is thicker than water” don’t we?! Of course biologically I
can’t be a mother so I do not claim to understand if all women will love their children
or not. I will not judge either!! I have
only known love from my ‘mothers’ but I have seen other mothers show ‘hate’ to their
products of nine hard months. I ask the question to all females: Do all
women love their children really, no matter the circumstances surrounding their
birth? I will be highly honoured to get some answers in the comment
section. In the mean-time, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS, NEW, OLD AND
WOULD BE!!
