Transformation

Growing up I put all the blame on her

She was selfish, she didn’t cry enough

She could’ve stopped him, she didn’t try enough

I was wrong. She was strong.

Strong enough to overcome his manipulation. Strong enough to break out of his toxic cycle. Strong enough to push him out after so much time preparing, no matter how painful; something like the beauty of childbirth. Strong enough to say ‘I will get through this alone no matter how ‘shameful’.

... and she did

Five grown children

Mama don’t have to work no more

She cries at times thinking of how her life was before.

Running out of the house to shout ‘help’ to the neighbors as her baby was choking

Leaving to work at nights to put breakfast in our stomachs in the morning

Remaining strong in front of us, even though her mother has just died; now she needs to find money to go abroad and bury her.

Not paying any attention to her love life because we were her priority.

Dragging us to church every Sunday because This was just another hurdle that God would deliver her from.

Monday would come and we’d watch as she’d scramble for our pocket money,

Pray for us and send us on our way.

Tell us to look both ways as we’re crossing and warn us not to be late home today.

Coming home we could smell the food before we even got to the door

We never asked why we’re having to eat the same thing we had yesterday

It was never spoken of but we knew not do anything to remind her we were poor.

We didn’t have to. She regularly beat herself up for it.

Thinking we were all asleep, she’d Cry at early hours of the day as she spoke to God in the Yoruba saying

“sanu wa Oluwa. Iya yi ti poju funmi. Je kin ri anu gba, je kin ri owo gba, ma je kin su ekun mo. Fun mi ni agbara lati to awon omo mi ki wan dagba ninu owo, ife ati anu. Ni oruko Jesu. Amin.”

I remember feeling to helpless, not being able to soothe her pains

Slowly developing hate for my father

‘How dare he leave her and not even check up on us, not even send us money. How can one have children and not even care about how they’re getting on. I bet it’s that Zimbabwean woman he’s with keeping him away from us. What did we ever do to her.

Lost in thought as daylight pierces through the curtains... time to repeat the day again...

Years later.

Five grown children. All graduates. A couple grandchildren.

Mama don’t have to work no more.

He listened. He really listened!

Wiped her tears and told her to wave bye to her trials and tribulations.

She still cries but only in thanks and disbelief that God has brought her so far. She can’t believe this is her.

She now walks with her head held high

A little bounce in her step

Compliments here and there about the glow in her skin

Old ‘friends’ popping up asking girls where you been?’

But she doesn’t pay them any mind.

For when it mattered Yah was her rock

And still is today.

She is an inspiration to me and to other women to be strong, to persevere and to pray. Shown me A man can break you but it’s down to you if you stay broken.

She’s been a mother and a father. A grandma and a granddad. A constant reminder that failure isn’t an option, never will be and never has.

Thank you

Kathleen Adeniran.