REMINISCENCE; THE LOVE OF MOTHER

REMINISCENCE;
THE LOVE OF MOTHER

I went to Mother's grave when everyone has retreated after celebrating my traditional marriage with me to give her a full gist of the ceremony as I had always done whenever I had a cause to be happy. After talking to mother, the only sound I heard was the rustling sound of the leaves as the wind waved past them and the cry of the ever vigilant owl. I wasn't afraid of ghosts neither was I deterred by the thick darkness, so, I decided to enjoy some more time at mother's graveside, I was taken down memory lane;
Twelve years ago, we were just living fine as one happy family with father and big brother, till they were killed by unknown men on their way to farm, it was indeed a black day for I and mother, mother cried her heart out, I consoled her all I could and she still found in me a reason to be happy and alive. Some months later, mother woke me on a certain chilly night, and began her invaluable lecture that I still uphold till date; she reminded me of my being a woman, what to avoid, what to ignore and what not to. She so ushered me into womanhood that when I began to experience it, I was well equipped and informed. Mother made sure I had all I needed, she so wanted the best for me that even when only the elites send their daughters to school, she did everything within her power to make sure I was educated. After my standard education, mother and I agreed that I'd go master the art of sewing. Mother would always say: "Ola m, I must treasure you all I could, 'cause you are my only consolation." We're so attached to each other that I always wondered the kind of bond that held us together.
Few months after I graduated from the sewing academy, mother fell sick and died of it, because no one was able to tell what sickness it was as it defied all medication administered. It's now seven years and even in death, mother never ceases to amaze me with her love and care as she frequently visits me in dreams, she's still my super gist partner.
I recalled all these shedding some tears, I wished she was alive to see her 'Ola' growing and glowing into the woman she had wanted her to be.

I ask,
A mother's love, who can tell?
The bond existing therein who can tell?

"Ola m" Igbo translation of "My Jewel"

Adielechi Francisca Mmesoma