She walked into the sitting room, where I was sprawled across the sofa, the only female amongst my brothers, and asked us to lower the volume on the television that she would like to speak to us. We complied, focusing our full attention on her.
My mother sat down on the love seat, adjusted her iro and buba. Looking slightly sheepish, she said “I am pregnant”. I immediately asked, “ why are you having more children? is three not good enough? I am not helping you babysit any rugrat o, bear in mind that I am going back to boarding school soon!” Here I was, thinking that my position was sealed as the last born; and then she comes at us with this. She continued with, “its for my boss, not your father.” It was the way she said it, this equanimity about her that made me sick.
I began to cast my mind back to when my father was making such a fuss about her working relationship with her boss, even accusing her of having an affair. Knowing my mother for the virtuous woman that she is, I certainly did not believe a word of what my father said, and assumed that he was simply jelaous that the woman was making some money of her own and did not have to wait on him hand and foot for her needs as she used to. In my head, I knew my father was acting in a very jealous and immature manner; probably slightly chauvinist and needing to keep up with the times.My mother is a very attractive woman, so I could sense where the insecurity was coming from. Besides, her boss had a hawk-eyed wife, who worked in the office below them.It would be difficult for my easygoing mother to upstage that sort of woman. She had no fighting spirit of that sort in her.I had completely blanked out, my head reeling with the implications of the news she had just given to us. She had not finished; “ and I have told my boss about the baby which he is very happy about.” It was then that I turned to her, letting her feel the full wrath of my anger, I said “Sit down mummy! Are you alright? This man you are talking about is happily married with six children. SIX! What family do you plan to fit your bastard child into? Have you considered a TOP? She retorted, “this child is a gift from God and is not a mistake. I am not terminating the pregnancy.”
It was surreal, having to speak to my mother in this manner; but I could not help it. It was as if she had suddenly become the child, and I, the mother. She was the one who was supposed to be warning me about the dangers of teenage pregnancy, abortion and the implications. I turned to my brothers, wondering if they were witnessing this too. The elder of the two, simply walked out of the room. He was not usually one of many words, and was prone to walking away from difficult situations and pretending that they did not exist. My second brother, simply said that although what my mother did was wrong, it was a greater sin in the eyes of God to abort the baby. I had not expected less; he is the fanatical one. I seemed to be the only one making sense in this room. It was then that I dragged my mother up, took her to my room and began to speak to her. “mother, why are you doing this? Why do you want to break up your home? I admit its not the happiest of homes and there are things that you would rather not have to deal with regarding my father, but is this your solution?” My father’s philandering ways were definitely a problem in the family and I know it was something that caused my mother a lot of pain. He had been carrying on with this particular woman to the extent that we were not even sure if she was merely a concubine or had become a wife. But to think that she would retaliate in this manner was just unexpected.Besides, was it not only okay for the men to do such things? Was it not an abomination if a woman followed suit? My mother, that has gone through thick and thin, my very own shock absorber…who would think that this would be the straw that would break the camel’s back?
I turned back to the woman who gave me life, and then hugged her. “o zugo, we will find a solution. I just regarded you in higher esteem and to say the least, I am disappointed. You are not the sort of woman to engage in extra-marital affairs and if this is to get my father’s attention, you are cutting your nose to spite your face.” She replied, “you do not understand me darling, do you? This is not about your father anymore. I have accepted that he is continually going to cheat on me. This is me finding my own happiness. I am in love”. At that point, I shifted away from her embrace, unsure that it was my mother speaking. It was like some creature had taken the place of where her mind used to be. Was she even thinking about us, and how this news would affect us?Unable to take it anymore, I started to scream at her, yelling at the top of my voice that I think that she is acting like a doe-eyed, love-sick puppy, a completely deluded woman. I was hoping that if I screamed loud enough, she would snap out of this land of oblivion her spirit had wandered into. It was then that she began to look pale, like she was about to be sick. I followed her gaze and realized she was bleeding out. In a state of utter shock and panic, I knelt in front of her and put my hands there, hoping that the pressure from my hands will stop the blood from flowing out from between her legs. The blood was defiant, squirting out with such intensity that I was sure I was going to loose her. I began to berate myself, telling myself that it was the pressure and the unkind words coming from me that caused this. I began to wish I had said nothing at all. “Somebody call the ambulance, mummy is bleeding.please help!”
I got up with a start. A huge truck was outside blaring its horns, and cursing at the small car causing the obstruction. I walked into my parent’s room, and found my mother sleeping peacefully, beside her husband, snoring loudly. I looked down at my hands. There was no blood. What kind of dream was that?
