Tuesday, 22 March 2016


Out of Six (6) children of our parents, I was the last and you know what is said sometimes concerning the last child, he/she is spoilt for choice and my case was not any different. I was more like a pet project’ Aaron said. I remembered those early days when I was still little about 4 years of age, my mum and even sometimes my dad could give me anything I asked for if they wanted me to go to school or I would cry, hit myself on the floor, roll in dirt and sometimes not even go to school at all. My elder brothers and sisters then would stare in disbelief because they had never seen our parents that soft at any points in their lives. Sometimes I overheard them say in whispers ‘I can’t believe my eyes, do you remember those days when I would even stay just 10 minutes longer in bed and would nearly get the whipping of my life talk more of if I ever mentioned my unwillingness to be at school any day ever. Am sure this Aaron is their only child and maybe we were all adopted’ and I would see them fold their hands and make gestures in disbelief but of course could do nothing because I was at that time call it, “The Apple of my Parent’s eyes” and I prided myself in that title because I believe that anyone who touched the apple of my parent’s eyes touched my parents and that was big trouble.
I enjoyed this attention from my parents for a very long time but I realised that as I grew older, they began to worry about me. During my primary school days, I was either at the bottom of the class when the results were released or next to the bottom of the class. I never remembered completing my school assignments or even keeping my books well which were declared missing most of the times. My mother pressuring my father would ensure that I was promoted on trial to the next class because I declared strongly that I would not go back to school if I was not promoted. I guess I made my parents suffer but this was because I was Loved and then spoilt. I also noticed that my Dad gradually began to resent me, he would scream at me and never buy me gifts anymore and would compare me to my older sibling who at that time were stars and excellent people at their levels. He would even shout at my mother many times and blame her for the way I turned out but all these did not make me better, they rather made me recline to myself.  Years later when I was mid-way in my secondary education, my father was transferred to Abuja from Lagos but we could not move with him due to mum’s job, my school and Lagos was in fact our home. So he moved to Abuja alone and we were all expected to exchange visits. I remembered that for many years, I was the only who never visited him at Abuja for about 8 years, I only saw Dad when he was home in Lagos because he asked me never to come to Abuja until I made some sense of my life. I was heartbroken but I felt I deserved all the treatments I was getting because to be honest, failure is a big orphan and our parents are not God, so they may not love you the way you ought to be loved when you do nothing they are ever proud of.
My mother never left my side, she would encourage me especially when I wanted to write my final Secondary School Certificate Examination popularly known as WAEC. With smiles in her face, some I believed she was trying to put up, she would tell me, she was sure I would make and even bigger than my elder ones had made it. It was encouraging to hear that from mum and many times it made me want to work harder in my studies even though I broke the resolve a lot of times. My mother’s nights were spent in intercession, I hardly heard her say so much prayers for anyone else but me. I remember for almost one (1) year, my mum would kneel for hours, crying and begging God to help her with her son; Aaron and she would pledge that whatever God wanted her to do to earn this, she would do. I did not know when I did this or what I did but I noticed at some point that if my mother spent three (3) to Four (4) hours praying, I spent the same times studying until this became a part of my life. I knew I failed many times still but I noticed, my mum did not cry a lot anymore; when she spent her nights praying for me, she said more thanks to God and I noticed she glowed more. I did not know how much improvements I had made even when she made comments on how well I had done maybe it was because I was interested in becoming better than the best and it happened because my Mum was there for me. I saw her suffer because she did not want me to suffer, I saw her spend sleepless nights in prayer for me because she wanted me to have a bright future, I saw her cry because she wanted me to laugh, I saw her love me more even when I never did well because she believed that Love could change everything and my Mother’s Love did change everything for me. So what can I say?
On Sunday, 6th March 2016, the world marked ‘Mother’s day’; a day dedicated to celebrate mothers for all the great things they do in our world. Catholics also marked this day on 13th March 2016 to also tell mothers how special they are in our lives as humans. I am certain that Aaron’s story of how precious a mother can be is nothing compared with what we individually have experienced or become because we encountered a mother. I can attest to that after God, my mother is the best thing that ever happened to me.
To my Mum, the mother of my children, every woman who has been a mother to me and all mothers all over the world, ‘You are celebrated’.

Remember the place to Print is Jewel Publishers: 08033615992, jewelswriting@gmail.com  

No comments:

Post a Comment