MAMA

I don't know what to make of this feeling, its one you never taught me mum, one I never had to experience till today. I mean, what you would call the feeling you get when you register that all along mama was right and you were wrong? When all her previous words come to you and you gape at the realization that she actually had a point!

Mama called me tiende obam directly translated to crooked feet; I hated it when she called me that. She gave birth to me... why then would she call me names based on what I was?

Looking back, I can't think of any better nickname! She smiled every time she called me that, (oh! That precious smile! I would do anything just to see it again!) She said my angry face looked adorable, that’s why she teased me...mama always had a way of making me feel so beautiful-she still does, and for the first few years of my life, nothing anyone would say would make me feel any less beautiful despite the mtumba handmade dresses she skillfully picked for me and my sisters.

Mama and two of my lovely sisters.

I was a princess, my mama’s princess...until I grew up. I wish I didn't, growing up was the worst amazing thing that happened to me. I felt mama’s love was not enough...I wanted more. Disregarding all her advice, I set out to look for ‘love.’ Three relationships and a dozen disappointments later, I now understand why she said ‘love is bigger than you imagine.’

I know she cries every time she sees me walk away, she would stand on the road till the boda boda carrying me will be out of sight...then she would walk back home...empty and alone...but mama is strong, she never shows her weakness. She covers it up like light covers the day and not once did I ever see her weaken, no matter the situation. In any case I was too busy growing up to notice, that behind, every smile, every criticism, every tongue lashing, was a desire to see me succeed.

Mama quarrels a lot, she gets pissed off over trial issues, notices only the negative, she hates me... why else would she reprimand me... so I thought, but in every quarrel she said...I love you, I want you to succeed, I believe in you, I know you can do better, you just have to try harder... she got pissed off not because she was disappointed but because she’s been there before, she’s bond to know when something would fail. She pushes me harder because to mama...I am the best version of her.

If I knew better, I would strive to make her call me tiende obam again, she doesn't anymore...because am all grown up and ‘sensitive’, but deep down, I know to her am that adorable little vulnerable baby she held in her arms, washed, fed, clothed and rocked to sleep long after every other person was sound asleep. That clueless angel she rose early to prepare breakfast for, the high school girl she had to forgo her long black silk like hair for. The university diva she sold her cow for... and now the working class lady she prays for day and night, smiling through every memory ugly or good.

I know she is gladly and painfully anticipating the day she will walk me down the aisle, handing me, her precious gem, to a stranger... how scary that must be for her...but still with her smile she would do it! Hoping and praying I will be alright.

Knowing mama, she will assure me that he will love me more than she does...and that will be the only time she will be wrong. To me no one else will ever love me like she does...no one, only God can. There is no other source of great love; unconditional, selfless love, apart from mama’s. No one else will see beauty beyond my flaws, strength beyond my mistakes, joy beyond my tears, and love beyond every disobedience like mama does.