I was on a call with a sweet friend of mine this morning when her mother called her to come home. I was like, ain’t you both in Lagos, she said I have cooked concoction for you. That made me miss the rice ati Ewa of Iya Tawa. Then I remember, today’s tagged #WomenDay. So, I’ve got to feel the concoction too. Could anyone be as important as that woman who never killed us from day one?

Believe me, all these tags means nothing to me, Valentine day, fathers day, mothers day. Soon we will have murders day, a day to kill, crushers day, a day to go back to your crush and do all sorts of rubbish, God’s day maybe and don’t forget about Satan day. Talking about #WomenDay, I don’t know about yours, but a day will never be enough for my own mother.

One of those things regarded as a taboo in the place i come from is asking each other of our mothers’ names. Yes, surname is normal, but having mothers’ name as surname is also astonishing, I have met couple of persons like that.

Long gone you are from home, either inter-state or in diaspora. Pick your phone and call your mum today, no, do it now.

We talk always about Adam, but most times, the name of Hawaau, our mother, is always hidden in the shadow. Whereas, men are same as women. We are all human kinds.

Adam couldn’t live alone, so mum came, such are mothers, comfort to dads.

Hawau is the name of that woman I will never forget her achievement, the one who taught all women to be women.

I want to remember you today mum. {Hawau} Many think you caused us to come to this struggling world; they say you caused Adam to eat from the tree. I don’t think so mum. You were both prohibited from tasting from the tree. The only mistake you made was that you didn’t complain when Daddy was going to pick the fruit. It wasn’t even a mistake per say, you were just a good wife wanting happiness for your husband. Although, I wished you stopped dad.

Mum, don’t blame yourself, we were actually meant to grace this land first before the paradise. Let them say whatever they want, no one was there in the paradise with you. If they were, I believe they would have polluted it like they are doing now in this new home you and dad built with sweat and love.

Why do people blame all bad things and wrong deeds on women, even if she’s not directly involved. Yoruba will say,

 ” a good child is his father’s, the other belongs to his/her mum”

  They see the wrong side, but I see that you really are the home reformer. Those that are good listened well to your teachings while those stubborn ones are like papa. You are the first teacher. Hawau.

  

Mother! The world is cerebrating you today but I don’t believe in such shit. Everyday will I celebrate you. In the summer, in the rain, in the winter or the autumn. Your love is engraved in my heart. Even though you are gone, I will fulfill that promise through your daughter, who went through all odds for me. How could I ever forget those days you dance in the silent midnights, so that I could sleep. I can’t thank you enough.

From the day you had dad roll her lips on yours, all was not for the do and do that went between you. You wanted me than the enjoyment. Sex was aimed at, but my birth was the targeted goal. Here I am. One of your greatest achievement.

Now that I am grown up, I have nothing to do, but always remember the pain you went through in the labouring room, how you screamed so loud without reserve. Why should I not scream out your name everyday. Thank you Mama.

Oh Hawau! I can’t send you cakes through the internet, if I buy you cake, the world might not know. A robe of gold will never be enough, thousands grams of diamonds can’t express my appreciation. I just want the world to know how lovely and caring you were and still are. Forever I will cherish you. Your achievements can never be met.

Thank you, Amamama, Komamsoo.

©Ibraheem {Broken Pen}

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