Letter to My Mother | Mulero Abibat

Dear Ma,

     I remember that moment when we sat at night on the bench, taking in the cold breeze and staring at the endless sky, the night was so cool. Our eyes were glued to the moon as it hovered over us, extending the brightness of it's light. You said she had a million babies. I could hear you breathing from where I sat, your chest heaving like there was something bothering you other than the fact that I was leaving and you were going to be alone.

I know it hurt you, but we both knew it's for the best. 

  Still, you never answered the questions I have, the ones I left with unanswered. Along with your epistle of keeping my heads up and knowing who I am, I'm afraid that's not all a girl needs to know to survive. 

My questions make you sigh, I wonder why? The tears flowed down your face bearing no meaning to me.

  I had every intention to keep to every word you said to me, your words of knowledge and of wisdom. In your speech, even you cried, I wondered. My immature mind assumed it was you being Motherly, indeed I was immature. 

I'm in my days, I close my eyes tightly and move on with the grace of yesterday, the mercies of today and the promises of tomorrow, while ignoring the fears of my future.

I assume you did this also, why then did you cry when you told me to look before I leap? Why did you cry when you said the path might be rough but giving up was rougher. Did you give up? 

That night I tried finding my answers in your tear filled eyes, all I saw was emptiness and void. But it was you being Motherly.

 Now I know why. Being around people from different walks of life, did that push you off the edge? Did that make you question your purpose.

I guess it did, because I do too. I left home with a dream and my suitcase, just as every one of these people did, some with more suitcases and more dreams. Everyone striving to have what every other person wants, in the end only a few gets it, and it's only the fews with long legs.

You didn't say how to survive here, when I'm being chocked by my counterparts, when my dreams are being snatched away by the elite and there's just no hope for my dreams, do I back down then?

There's news of insatiable needs and distraction everywhere. I fear I might come back with nothing more than I left with. 

   Sometimes I try to take comfort in watching the news, but that's no way out, there's more disaster out there than there is in my life. People are getting deceived, kidnapped, raped and killed, every passing day.

Tuning to the next channel is as worse as passing time on the internet. 

People are wasting their lives, what is it you always say? Every second is priceless. Maybe you were wrong, because these youths Don't think so. They say it's okay to party all night, sleep with lecturers for marks… did you give me the right advice?

Your words said, in the midst of fools, the wise is regarded as a fool.

 I feel like the wise fool, carrying my dreams and the strong passions that makes my heart ache with me as a burden, they laugh and snigger like the fool they think I am.

I doubt your words sometimes, because when I look back, no one is coming after, only few ahead and your words remain, keep thriving. 

I'm sure your days were easier than mine, less people were killed and more people walked the path you told me to walk in. 

    Ma, I have questions about death too, why is death so cruel and comes as a disguise, sickness first and then death. Just like the life of my brother we tried to save, we knew he was going to be fine, until he stopped breathing. I have questions about why he wasn't allowed to fulfill his life's purpose, he wanted to ride the biggest car, build the finest mansions, eat the most delicious cakes and fly the biggest planes. He was given a dream, and yet it was taken from him. Why?

   I thought you said we have one God, here it doesn't seem like so. There are religions everywhere, people following different doctrines and yet they serve the same God. I thought we were supposed to live the way Christ lived. Ma, here the christians pray to God and still tell lies, the Muslims pray to Allah and still Fornicate, they say their sins are forgiven, will they make it to heaven? Culture was supposed to make us unique, now we stand divided. Why do we have blind leaders? And blind followers too? We seek for change and when we get our change, we do the same thing. Ma, we've been given change and yet there's still no change. We are shadows of who we used to be, cast out and left to chase those shadows again. Will my questions ever end? Because even the avenue that draws the words of our hearts into rythms is diseased.

  So you cried because you had questions too and no one answered, I do the same, I cry too. Save my tears and say some words, relief my heart from the burdens that are not mine to carry, yet I cannot seem to drop it because they revolve around me. I don't want to be like you, when I bid my children farewell into the world, I want their questions answered. I need answers to stay sane.

   The path is lonely and quiet, when you kneel to pray, ask the father for me. What am I to understand?

Or would I have to carry these questions for the rest of my life and shed tears when I say goodbye to my grand babies, just like you did.

Love,

Your Daughter.

Bio: 

Mulero Abibat is a writer who hails from ogun state but reside in Lagos.

She loves spending time alone, when she's not writing, she's either drawing or listening to music.