Dear Mama:
I know it wasn’t easy for you to witness and live through what happened or rather tried to happen to me.
On the day my cousin Alieu arrived from Germany and came to visit you and Baba, I saw how you tried to protect me from him. I’m not sure what was discussed between Baba and Alieu prior to cousin Alieu’s arrival but I know you knew something and hence the reason you tried to protect me.
Mama, I heard you crying on the phone when you spoke to your brother Musa. I heard you telling him that you didn’t want me to suffer like you did; that you didn’t want me consigned to the role of a homemaker for the rest of my life.
Mama, I heard you telling him how well I was doing in school. I also heard you telling him how you struggled to pay for my school fees because Baba would rather pay for my half-brother Alhagie. I heard the fear in your voice as you lamented if Baba will let me finish my school or pass me off to the first man that asks for my hand in marriage!
Mama, I couldn’t see your face that day but I could hear your tears. But Mama, what I heard loudest was the pride in your voice as you spoke of my accomplishments in school. The sound of that pride in your voice lit in me a raging inferno that will conquer very rock in my path, break every glass ceiling over me and rise like the phoenix you’ve pet-named me. Importantly, the sound of your soothing voice would accompany me when I’m most afraid of the very people you entrusted me to.
Mama, I wish I could tell you that things got easier after you departed but I wouldn’t be honest if I say that. The embrace of those you trusted to care for me in this world became colder and I constantly yearned for the warmth of your aura. The temptation to seek it elsewhere was a malignant desire that I struggled against day in and day out.
Mama, your light, in the darkest of moments became a path to catharsis away from the difficult past and dangers I encountered along the way. How I wish you were here to see me conquer all that you feared would be in my path. Every challenge brought a smile on my face because the excitement of conquering the challenge was far greater than the fear and very presence of the obstacles.
Mama, as I stood on the podium delivering a speech at my graduation, I couldn’t help but see you smiling and punctuating every break in my speech with the loudest cheer and elan. I wasn’t supposed to make it this far. Baba wanted me to find a good husband to take care of me. Society told me all this education is of no use for a girl. People said girls from my area never make it. Others told me I was born to serve. But Mama, you said I needed to find a way to stand alone if I have to and that I don’t have to serve any mortal being.
Mama, you told me the key to my freedom is hidden in the recesses of education and that I must find it to unlock my potential. You said I must never dirty my hands to get to the key. Mama, you told me if no girl has made it out of our area, I’d be the first one and I proudly show my hands today because they’re clean Mama.
Mama, you told me it would not be an easy road but that I must travel the long and arduous journey. You said your prayers will carry me through and I must never succumb to mediocrity.
Mama, you told me the alternative to a lack of education was worse. And Mama, you are absolutely right. It was a long and arduous journey. I only wish you were physically here to see me at the finish line as I crossed it to the cheers of Baba and everyone who tried to stop me.
There never was a day I didn’t feel your presence, hear your wisdom, feel your love, see your smile and whirl in your laughter. There wasn’t an accomplishment I didn’t soak in your tears of joy. I only wish that everyone else could see you so I can tell them, you’re the reason I am. I love you Mama!
