MAMA!

I sit at the corner of my bed looking at my room and thinking how great the world is, at times so unfair, you know! My room isn’t as big. It’s just a small room that only fits the 3*6 bed, a wardrobe, two office chairs, a fixed table and the bathroom section. I have however partitioned some portion not in practice but mentally and it is my small kitchen with lots of cups, sufurias and some plates. And that’s how rich I am. So I am still bargaining on whether to make breakfast or not. its certain I miss something. Something I really hated someday. Something that everyone hated and suddenly it comes back to them and they want it so bad that they can’t help.
Like how I would sleep so late watching a movie and early in the morning someone would just knock your bedroom door so hard to wake you up. Annoying, right? And I would actually behave as though no one knocked the door until I could repeatedly hear the voice say, ‘mundu okiragio ni make’ to mean ‘someone wakes up to their schedule’. Then I would laze from my bed to go serve breakfast. Well that was so soon. What of the days I just used to wake up at 5 to get ready for the 6 am train that would carry me to school? Those days I would wake up with my eyes closed and my breadth stinking. Then I would just look at my mum and say, ‘where is dad?’ and she would just look at me as I ran to give him a good morning smile before I could step out of the house.
See the thing is, I have grown to find my mum to be one of the most amazing creatures I had not experienced in my early life. Like I really used to hate the fact that she would whip my ass so hard as though I wasn’t from her sac. Actually, the only good thing I liked about her was the fact that I would call her mum and that she would force me to participate in church music festivals. You see at young age, everything is wrong apart from when things are done your way. you get what I mean, right? Like she would want things go her way as though she stood between the right and wrong. Basically she did! I wasn’t much of a right person, I was this kind of phenomenal where the world wasn’t as serious or scary, not until I found myself in the army of men in blue! Story for another day.
Well, nothing stands like forever, one day we grow up and we need to start figuring out our lives. The thought looks great and very practical. The fears are so limited in the thinking. But for me, it comes back in rampage. I wish to grow back my clock so that I can still be the young girl who could go to school in the morning having had breakfast, packed lunch and break snack. To being that girl who didn’t have to decide on what to eat, what to wear on a Sunday morning or what to get worried about. To being the girl who would talk shit to teachers because she would just get scolded and transferred to another school.  That girl who didn’t need to worry about how they left their room because at the end of the day it would be perfect. To being that small daddy’s favorite who would come back from school with a broad smile throw her bag from her back and say, ‘shikamoo mama,’ and mum would reply, ‘marahaba, umeshindaje?’ and the conversation would flow.
It’s sad that things do change and then we realize how much our parents tried to protect us from cruelty. How they cared and bothered to get us new stuff now and then. Like they kept surprising us with a new jumper, or a pair of socks or even some country side road trips. There was so much fun that we thought it was so much of prisoning. Back to my current world. No one to tell shikamoo, no one to spank we because suddenly everything am doing is right, no one to knock at my room door because suddenly my schedule wakes me up! And when I just look deep, I think I have had the best kind of mamas. The best kind of squad to catch a bullet for. The ones that have my deepest secrets! The kind that never told me not to have sex or take drugs, or not to walk naked etc., but gave me life lessons on the sequence of all my actions! The kind of mamas who have never let me down, the ones that will support my dreams to the last bit! The kind of mamas who will just call to say, ‘Unakuja lini, kuna kitu nataka tuongee!’ and I will be sure they want me to hang around with them! the kind of mamas that will let me make my own decisions and think they are right and they will have no reason to question. Because at the end, every child deserves to be supported by their mamas!
I pick up my phone and I call my mamas one by one and I say to, ‘ulinawali!’ to the first, ‘wakiamaitu!’ to my second, ‘Goodmorning ma’!’ to my third! Then I pause and say, ‘I am moving in with you!’