Mama

Amaka had dreaded it all her life never to see her mum cry, But the first crack that appeared on her wedding day was not on her cake or dress. It was on Mama’s voice as she showered blessings on her.

To Mama, it was so sudden that her little girl was transitioning from a baby to being a wife.

Amaka stared at Mama from her lace veil. She had never seen Mama cry. All her life, she had known Mama to be that strong independent woman. And no matter what she passed through raising her four children alone after the death of her husband. Mama, for one day, didn't show any sign of weakness or emotions before her kids. Which made Amaka dread seeing the day her strong mother would show her fragile side.

“Forgive me, I just couldn't help it”, Mama whispered as she wiped her tears with the back of her wrapper. Her hands were trembling as she adjusted the lace on Amaka’s veil.

"It's fine Mama. You've been strong for us all these years; showing a bit of emotion today doesn't make you weak." Amaka consoled her mum as she sobbed too. Somehow the quiver she heard in her mother's voice tore through her mind like a glass teetering on the edge of a tablecloth.

Months later, just after Amaka’s honeymoon. She got a call.

"Mama fell and hasn't woken up since yesterday" Mary, her immediate sister's teary voice echoed in the background.

Without thinking twice, Amaka rushed down to Enugu. Prayers in her heart. She got to the hospital to see her siblings all gathered around their mum in her tiny ward. The once vibrant and strong woman she knew was on life support, looking so fragile, like a threadbare cloth.

"The doctor says she has a stroke. And that she'll need therapy." Mary spoke with tears in her voice. "He also says her speech may never fully return" Then she let the tears out. Crying like a newborn baby.

Amaka walked over to her and hugged her tightly.
"She will be fine. We'll all be fine," she consoled her, although she wasn't even sure of that.

The first few days staying at the hospital with Mama were filled with silence. Mary had gone back to the university, promising to be back a few days after her exams, and the others only come visiting in the evening after school closing hours. It was tough for Amaka to watch her mum pass through such pain. She prayed fervently for a miracle.

A few days later, Mary came back and filled in for Amaka while Amaka went home to get some rest. That day, she sat in Mama's room reminiscing on the old times when Mama was still strong and showed no signs of weakness and wondered what had really happened.

Then her eyes caught a dusty box under the bed. She pulled it out and opened it, inside were pictures of them and Papa when they were still kids. She smiled as she sorted through the contents of the box.

Just then, her eyes caught a piece of hospital test results. It was Mama's own from seven years ago. She couldn't believe that for seven years Mama had been on high blood pressure medication while none of them knew. And in all those years that Mama had walked miles to sell akara, spent nights sewing by the flickering candlelight just to earn money to pay Amaka’s school fees through university. All those years she didn't know that the woman she thought was unbreakable was only hiding her fragility like a secret scar.

Amaka spent the next few days being strong for Mama. Giving back all the love Mama had shown to them while she struggled with her health. Making Mama understand that it was okay to need help, it was okay to be fragile and vulnerable and to show weakness or emotions. After all, that is why we all need each other and what makes us human.

Tirelessly, every day, she sat beside the bedside, hoping for the best. Miraculously Mama's health began to improve. Every day, Mama regained a bit of herself. But just as the doctor said, her voice never returned fully, even with therapy.

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Glossary
Akara *Bean cake