On one of those nights, Mother called me to her bed and told me she could not endure the pain anymore, and that she would have loved to die but did not want to die because of us. She slowly sat up from her mat and wiped her oily face with the edge of her old wrapper. Mma entered and sat, crying. Mother wiped her tears and drew her to her side. She lowered her face and began crying again after a short mental calculation.
‘Let me feel you my daughter,’ she said.
Mma surrendered herself to Mother’s fancy and she fondled her hands. That was when she stopped crying.
‘Don’t cry again my daughter. I will be fine,’ she said.
After calming Mma down, she started speaking. She spoke for a while and though her words were not audible, I heard her but could not understand what she meant. So I asked Mma to sit up and go to the next room to sleep to give Mother a breathing space to rest.
‘Nne!‘ I called, holding her hands.
‘My son,‘ she answered.
‘Be quite and rest now. It is already midnight and the drugs administered by Uche will bring some hope by morning.’
She lay again with my help and closed her eyes.
I kept her company that night so that the unseen wicked forces who were known to torture sick ones at the heart of the night might not eventually take her away from us, when her chi might have gone to rest. The night was impenetrably dark. Though it was a moon night but it only came out at dawn and during these nights, the whole earth was darksome and fearful. I felt her pain as death lurked her way and her skin became dull and cold. She had also developed an acrid smell which discomforted everyone around except us because she was eternally our Mother. I saw this fight for life and death end that night.
Morning arrived and Mother did not die. Now I became fully convinced that she would not die again. I boiled hot water to clean her hands and face whenever I sensed she was becoming cold again. It was a woman’s work but Mma was too young to do it perfectly as I would. Besides, she was my Mother. I would help as much as I could.
Mother slept light and this made me go down on my knees to pray to God in heaven, whom I did not know so well, to help keep her alive so she could take care of us until we grow older. We were unfamiliar with Mother’s God as we were with the gods of our fathers. We had been made to believe that Mother’s God is the strongest in the whole universe but this did not stop me from praying to my father’s chi and pleading with him to remember that we were still young to be left alone.
The memories of how father and grandfather left us came always and sapped our joy. Our family unlike other families was not a large one. It was now made up of only three male children that if anything should happen to us, it would mean that our lineage would be cleared away from the earth surface and it would become a history that we had once existed and all died. It would just end. We would not be remembered again for anything. It forced us to understand that life; where you see someone today and tomorrow he’s gone, is very cruel and that for us pagans we believe that fate alone decides who would live and who would die when death comes.
In spite of the time that had passed since they died, the pain remained. So we tried to ensure we do not lose Mother. The sickness continued afterward. We had no time to go out to weed the farms and stake our yams. Our neighbors were too selfish to ask us why. The family was left with nothing and since it had stripped itself of money to fight her illness and had no hope left, we just hoped that the future would provide something better. The women in our neighborhood could have done better but feared accusation from co-wives. Mother was somehow to be blamed for that. At least, she had a large share of the blame to herself. She was not good at getting help from outsiders, even when circumstances were so strict that she should.
Mother remained abed for the whole year and half of the following year when she finally recovered from the ailment. It was tough for us all - in the family. I only, carried the pain, but did not share it. I bore all that the family placed on me. The cost of raising the four of us increased and I was only a young determined hunter. We passed through hunger and hard times ever. As Mother was recovered, I became father, provider and guardian to both Mother and my younger ones. I went into many things – hunting, fishing, and farming fully, to make little money for our upkeep. It was really a burden to be the first in the family.
Gradually she was recovering, though still largely skinny and dull in look. She had lost her left eye to that sickness and the drugs could not save it. It suddenly changed to white and she could not see with it again. I was not bothered. Eye or no eye she remained our mother – someone whom we were still proud of.
Her smiles which gradually frequent were an indication to me that she was recovering fast. I could now go out freely to get small things for her to eat and come home on time to check how she was doing. We yearned to see her stand and administer discipline, to laugh and to hug us all. I could never imagine loving another woman, the way I loved Mother.
She was truly my mother, any day. She was always my mother. I loved her indeed.