HEARTBREAK SHOVED ME INTO WRITING

Cancer took away my Mom and the pain of losing her introduced me to writing

When I was born, according to what I’ve heard, the doctors gave up on me. They told my mom I wouldn’t survive. Why? I was born premature I think at six or seven months. I was all red, tiny and fragile. I was kept inside an incubator, hoping against hope to survive.

My mom wanted to go home and so she was discharged taking home with her a tweeny tiny bundle who ought to have been born two to three months in the future; wrapped in several wrappers. It was a miracle I lived up to the second day but I think mom’s love and hope kept me alive.

I had pretty large eyes and was too thin for my age; one would think I would break any minute. Well, this baby survived not only a day but several years and is still living. I was the kind of baby you had to be extra careful with; I was not to be exposed or bathed. The kind of baby that wore extra too many clothes at once, one who was not taken outside, one that the windows and doors had to be shut to keep the room temperature hot for.

You can imagine what my mom had to go through because of me. To make matters worse, mom had chicken pox at the time she gave birth to me and doctors said it was a miracle I didn’t catch it. Infact they couldn’t explain and were unable to fathom the whole thing.

I couldn’t suck like normal babies, so feeding was another issue entirely. Mom was my super-heroine, one who I could always look up to. One I would always complain of any ill-doing done against me to; my comfort. One whom when I see all my problems disappear like they never appeared. Mom stood by me through thick and thin; she never believed the doctor’s report about me; she never gave up on me. Tell me how wasn’t I supposed to fall head over hills in love with this woman?

And yeah she was always grateful to God that despite the way I was born, I was never sick, never for a day. I was never taken to the hospital for any thing. The only time I was admitted into the hospital was after her death. I started wondering if her grace wasn’t there anymore. I knew if she was around the devil could not have done that to me but thoughts of her and my siblings made me cross that hurdle.

This piece is specially dedicated to her — my lovely mom Mrs. Princess Adaobi- the one and only, the Mama Eagle (one who watches over her eaglets like an eagle); one who was respected by all and sundry and even the highest military officers respected her. Everybody wanted her to be a mother to them. She was gracious and absolutely virtuous and everything you could classify as a great woman. She thought me just how to be kind no matter what.

The area I grew up in was known to be notorious and unsafe but after we moved in, such things became a thing of the past. I didn’t know how she had done it but she had spoken to the police and they seemed awakened to their responsibilities of keeping the area safe from those hoodlums. And it remained so till we left. There was a time when the National Electrical Power Authority (NEPA) had refused to supply light to the area, she single-handedly handled that and the area became lightened once again. She transformed the glory of that place and it became known for something good. Infact she was known everywhere. If you needed to find her just ask one or two people and they would bring you to her. She was that type of woman; a woman every man desired to be with; a woman every child wished to have. She had her way with making problems vanish.

She was nicknamed several names but one that stood out was the Mama Eagle particularly because she was protective of anything in her care. She would tell us to treat visitors right because we didn’t know if they were angels sent by God. Even you weren’t her child and you stayed with us, she would exempt you from chores and make you enjoy than we did. People’s children always wanted to spend holidays in our house because of this. Mom didn’t mind giving her last money or food items to someone she didn’t know simply because the person was more in need of that thing than we were.

There was a time business was not moving swiftly and so it became hard to feed, mom had borrowed some money and bought tubers of yam for us to eat. We were so happy that we finally got to eat yam. While making preparations for the meal, someone knocked at the door and it was a woman we had never seen in our lives. She asked to see mom and when mom came to the door, she cried that she and her children had not eaten anything since morning, we knew what mom would do next. Mom, not even knowing the woman took the tubers of yam we were supposed to prepare and some foodstuffs and gave to the woman. We were not happy at all. But she called us and told us that we have not given till we give sacrificially.

She said offering something that costs you; something that hurts you when you give is true giving. She told us not to worry that God that had provided those yams would provide food for us. The next day mom visited the place the woman had claimed to live but she was told no such person lived there; mom wanted to give her more. She started wondering whether that person was an angel. Few days later, mom had a business opportunity that kept food on our table.

Mom had this unique leadership skill that made her lead wherever she found herself whether in church or anywhere at all. Among the women, she always stood out and I was always happy to be associated with her. She could talk sense into a person that had been written off as unchangeable.

There was a mad woman who was always disturbing the barracks and threatening people. People were always angry at her. It was mom who called this woman, amazingly I didn’t know how she did or what she said to the woman but I learnt from mom that the lady was severely depressed.

Her story was a touching one. She had married a soldier and had three kids- a boy and two girls. Then she had brought her sister to stay with her but one thing led to another and her sister absconded with her husband taking her only son and leaving her with her daughters. She went into a state of shock and that was how her mental illness began. Mom told her disturbing the barracks and threatening people was no good and gave her some money to feed her daughters. This woman named Maria would come when she was in need of money. People were surprised at how mom had gotten to the woman . The list of women who remain eternally grateful to my mom is endless.

Most women were crying rather than consoling us and saying nobody was going to listen to them and advise them again and I was wondering - okay! So who is going to comfort who?

The unhappiness that befell me and still hurts my heart started when mommy began vomiting. Her vomiting started for days and would not end. She reported to the hospital and they didn’t find anything that could have caused the vomiting (but I was suspecting she knew but didn’t want to break our hearts). She came back home after being discharged. She could not take anything in as her stomach always upset her or she was always vomiting. She was given all sorts of medications and natural herbs all to no avail. Till we decided she had to go to the hospital.

I remember when she was being taken to the hospital; she could not sit in the car for a long time as we had to make stops for her to adjust and readjust herself. I knew she wanted to cry but could not because I was there (though I’m not her last born but second to last, people always thought I was). Her pains were very evident and I broke down crying but my aunty told me not to as it would only break her heart and that she was going to be fine. I nodded my head in agreement but I was afraid.

She was admitted into the hospital and after series of tests, it was found out that she had ovarian cancer. She started her chemotherapy and she asked some of us to go back to work so we would be able to foot the hospital bills. My immediate elder sister remained with her in the hospital. She was there for some weeks until one disastrous morning that started it all.

It was 5:30pm, we had prayed and was preparing for work. My elder sister got a call from my immediate elder sister, she was saying something on the phone amidst tears. She couldn’t talk but was crying. A nurse collected the phone from her and broke the news of the death of my mom.

They said she had died since last night and was confirmed dead that wee hours of that terrible morning. My elder sister shouted and dropped the phone. I ran to her and asked her what happened but she couldn’t say anything and after insisting she told me mom was dead. I could not believe it and felt she was bluffing. How could mom die- my mother die? She was above death! She couldn’t have died. No! No! It was just impossible.

They made a trip to the hospital which was far away leaving I and the last born at home. We both prayed and prayed hoping it would be like in the movies when a doctor comes and says he made a mistake that she was still alive. I kept on calling my sister for situation report, she said they had not gotten there. After some hours, I didn’t get her call and was uneasy. I called her and she refused to pick up, I knew instinctively that it was true.

After some time, she picked and when I asked her she said “Favour, what I’m about to tell you would break you and Victory’s (the last born) heart but I need you to take heart. Mom is gone. She is dead”. I heard something ringing in my ears like it was all a bad dream and I was going to wake up and find it was not true. After coming to my senses and realizing this was reality I was shaken and cried for the rest of the day.

That was how I lost a rare gem; something that’s irreplaceable. Now when I see children with their mothers I really get jealous and angry for her being taken away from me. But I encourage myself because that’s all I have left — Hope. Hoping against Hope itself!

She went through a lot. But the grace of God was sufficient for her and her grace overshadowed us. Mom had brought us up in a way that people were and are still envious of. In her years of passing on, some people had thought we would disperse and become lost to the world but we have stood together and worked together and we are still working together. We kept her business alive and I work there everyday. I have not been swayed by the sweet tongues of soldiers and officers around, neither have I been carried away with their money. Most had thought since Mama Eagle was gone, they would allow themselves to be messed up but I’m proud to say the joke is on them. I work hard, have remembered mom’s precepts and teachings. Never follow the world but let the world follow you because you were born to be a leader. I’ve always dared to be different, to be unique in everything I do. I never allow people’s words weigh me down.

In the barracks where I work as a typist, throughout the four years mom has been gone, I have not messed up myself with any Officer or soldier; I have kept my pride and my head held up high. I couldn’t have been able to do this without my mom.

I decided to start writing during the Eve of December. I had thoughts of mom that wouldn’t leave me. I had imagined how the Christmas celebrations would have been with her; nothing was the same; nothing could ever remain the same. I missed everything about her and sometimes I feared thoughts of her could drive me to severe depression but then I remember this was not what she wanted for me. She was always proud of me; she would call me her artist and tell me I took my artistic skills from her.

Thoughts of her keep me strong and alive. I not only live and breathe because of God, I do so with the memory of my mother in mind. I would never forget her. I knew the world lost something great when she died. And to think I didn’t say goodbye to her hurts me the most. But when I write, I write away all my pains and breathe in fresh happiness, love and hope.

Suffice to say, I have also added more flesh than I had ever imagined. But there was a time my skull was really painful and I was told it was because I was born premature but now I feel better, so much better and fat that I’m now watching my weight! Life is truly funny and full of ups and downs.

Writing helped me forget my pain. Guess I’m eternally grateful to Medium and the people here because you don’t know what you all have saved me from. You have saved me from depression, anger, hate for the world, disappointment and uncertainty.

Thank you Mama and thank you all.