I hope that was what the angels said to you when your soul arrived in heaven. “Nnọọ Mama, welcome.”
You were not my mother but you carried me.
You were not my grandmother but you loved me.
You were my grandfather’s sister, fondly called Mama U by all who knew you.
You suffered many trials in your lifetime and although you loved and cared for so many children, you never bore one of your own.
When I was a baby and cried because I didn’t want to eat, you sang songs and beat any object you could find to create music that would distract me so that you could force the akamu down my throat to keep me alive.
Your spirit was infectious. The fact that you are gone is truly a loss Mama. I didn’t get to say goodbye but I will always carry the fond memories of you with me.
The last time I saw you, you complained about losing your sight and held my face while saying “ị bụ onye? Who are you?” I said “It is me Mama” and you smiled and asked me to take you to the city when I was leaving because you were tired of being alone. I was only a teenager then and there was nothing I could do.
I know that my grandfather (while he was alive) and your nieces and nephews did their best to care for you while you were alive but I know that you really wished you had your children. But not all mothers have children. They say it takes a village to raise a child, well Mama, you were definitely part of that village.
We love you Mama! Thank you for your love, attention and prayers. Until we meet again.
Photo credit: Keith Mallett