‘Mama, Mama…’ I cried. Mama pet but I still cried.

‘What happened?’ She asked. And I pointed to the ceiling.

She looked up, she saw nothing.

‘What happened my son?’ Again and again, she asked. And I cried the more.

She clung me to her back, and clapped the floor with her foot.

Her mouth also sang for me, but I still cried until I slept off.

 

Mama! A mother that cares, a mother that loves.

The strong mother of the blacks, the giant woman of Africa.

She was busy throughout the day, looking for firewood and looking for leaves.

See her at night with cocoa leaves, and with banana leaves,

Arranging them in order to wrap her corn starch.

I slept before her but she woke before me.

When I woke up in the morning, the maize pudding was on fire.

In front of the fire I sat, warming my body and watching mama

As she wrapped the corn starch.

The corn starch that brought money, the money that trained us.

 

My grandma! My first teacher.

Your 1, 2, 3, … I never forget. Your A, B, D, … I never forget.

And your labour of love I cannot forget.

Mama taught of having a cover, but the time has gone

And the strength, no more. The death of a loved son kills her daily.

Don’t worry mama, we will still have it more beautiful than you imagine.

Mama longed to see the time she would back my babies,

She longed to see me graduating from school.

She composed a song for the coming celebrations.

But death did not allow her.

Don’t worry Mama. Your big dream for me, your big thought for me,

All will still come.

 

My grand ma! A mother that loves, a mother that cares,

Till her last day, till her last breath.

Her last word, her dying mouth,

Still remembered a son.

Mama!

Rest over there. Your heirs are here, and we cherished your cares.

May the bond of love which you left behind still keep us together.

God be with us. Amen.

 

In memory of my late
grandmother, Mrs. Janet Aturu