A long time has indeed elapsed since my last letter,
In that time, a lot has ensued as well.
I hope you received my last letter.
I know it was signed with the unfamiliar pseudonym that I have recently adopted
And not that one oriki that you fondly called me.
The same one you were fondly called by your mother, of which she was called by hers too.
I decided to use that so as the keep the oriki between us,
Away from the prying eyes of these people (Yes YOU).
Yes, it is that time of the month, and it reminds me of the first time.
That morning, yes that morning.
Now I laugh, but then I didn't. It certainly wasn't funny.
It was supposed to be like any other morning, I was getting ready for school.
You heard me scream.
You thought I'd just seen my grandmother's ghost.
You were right! Well partially.
I had seen a ghost, though not mami's.
It was a red one. The red one.
The famous Miss P (or according to Buttercup, Aunty Flo)
She had come unexpectedly to jolt me to womanhood,
She was to stay and haunt my life for the next 30 years.
I was forlorn, because I knew she was early. Too early.
She must have caught the fast train. I was only in JSS 2.
My siblings had been much older,
But then again, I guess she'd used the choo choo train in their time.
Then it was time for the talk. I wasn't ready for it.
But fortunately for me, I didn't get the falsified version.
I wasn't told I'd be heavy with child if I held hands with a boy.
Though you didn't fail to emphasize that you'd make my life miserable if you did find me holding hands.
Though once again you said you would take care of the child and send me back to school.
After the talk, I got the chicken.
Yes the chicken. Like every young 'budding' Yoruba girl.
I got one killed specially for me. It was my day.
At the end of that day, I knew or rather I emphasized the fact that,
The weirdo I had become was from being the daughter of a weirdo.
I called you mega mother weird.
The weirdest this planet has ever seen.
Doesn't stop me from loving you
For not only does this hereditary weirdness make me unique,
The 'talk' made me a better person and I appreciated my sudden 'womanhood'.
I am happy with the woman that I have become as a result.
For that, I say thank you.
My daughter must surely get this talk,
Though not verbatim,
It will certainly be in the most mega mother weird way that I can give it.
NOTE: Those who have read, I have come to a conclusion that such utterences are not befitting for a post that is solely directed at my mother. So if you read the comments and wonder what the first few people have said....you can keep wondering.
Showing posts with label Letters to my mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letters to my mother. Show all posts
Dear Mother,
My Dearest,
Gone are the days when we would lie in on a Saturday morning
Watching the Cadbury's breakfast show,
We would catch up on the week gone past,
The troubles I'd been through at school,
The trials you'd been through with securing that contract,
I didn't think I'd miss those days.
Gone are the days when you would dig out your whip,
Beat the advice into me,
That was the only way you knew how,
That was the way you had been 'advised'
That, has inevitably shaped my person today.
Gone are the days when we would cook the last bag of meat,
And pray to God that the pot wouldn't be empty before it got refilled.
It was just you and I.
The older ones were out of the country, fending for themselves.
You wouldn't let me leave with them.
I was your companion.
The only companion.
Gone are the days when we would not talk
Either because I had been naughty or...well usually it was only because of that.
You warned me, that come the time, I would be alone.
The time is now and I wish I heeded those words,
I heard them but I didn't listen.
I was probably too young to realise.
Gone are the days I would wish I didn't have to go home from school
I found my haven at school, My solace.
I would stall leaving school for home everyday,
Just so I didn't have to do those dishes or fill up the house with water.
But now I still do them, but I do them with pride because I know you taught me well.
Gone are the days when we would plan my future, our future.
The future is here now, but not the way we planned it.
It has been good, but it could be better.
Still, I am proud.
And though the days are gone,
I have the pleasure of re-living them,
One day at a time,
And I've started, by wearing those waist beads.
Yours lovingly.
NaijaBabe,
A. O. S. D.
Inspired by many bloggers.
More letters to come!
Gone are the days when we would lie in on a Saturday morning
Watching the Cadbury's breakfast show,
We would catch up on the week gone past,
The troubles I'd been through at school,
The trials you'd been through with securing that contract,
I didn't think I'd miss those days.
Gone are the days when you would dig out your whip,
Beat the advice into me,
That was the only way you knew how,
That was the way you had been 'advised'
That, has inevitably shaped my person today.
Gone are the days when we would cook the last bag of meat,
And pray to God that the pot wouldn't be empty before it got refilled.
It was just you and I.
The older ones were out of the country, fending for themselves.
You wouldn't let me leave with them.
I was your companion.
The only companion.
Gone are the days when we would not talk
Either because I had been naughty or...well usually it was only because of that.
You warned me, that come the time, I would be alone.
The time is now and I wish I heeded those words,
I heard them but I didn't listen.
I was probably too young to realise.
Gone are the days I would wish I didn't have to go home from school
I found my haven at school, My solace.
I would stall leaving school for home everyday,
Just so I didn't have to do those dishes or fill up the house with water.
But now I still do them, but I do them with pride because I know you taught me well.
Gone are the days when we would plan my future, our future.
The future is here now, but not the way we planned it.
It has been good, but it could be better.
Still, I am proud.
And though the days are gone,
I have the pleasure of re-living them,
One day at a time,
And I've started, by wearing those waist beads.
Yours lovingly.
NaijaBabe,
A. O. S. D.
Inspired by many bloggers.
More letters to come!
