"A girl of reliability" a woman of reliability.
How do you pay tribute to a mother who gave you everything?
How do you begin to explain to anyone how wonderful your mother's love is without them thinking that it is nothing compared to theirs? You just can't. You can't stop either because, regardless of how everyone else views your mother, she will never cease to be special. Ok, I love my mother. This is not new. Those who know me know this, but they don't know how much and why.
As we drove on Landover road just after the intersection with Lottsford Rd in MD heading towards Upper Marlboro, I felt the need to stop and speak to my mother. She had been critical about my way of life which lacked the lustre and flair of those who have succeeded in the USA: Doctors, Lawyers, Nurses, etc. People who lived in "big Houses", drove nice cars and ... well you get the picture. I was a teacher and my mother felt that by subtly letting me know that I had to supplement my income with a "second" job or even a third job, she was giving me good advice, she was helping me. She had even mentioned that I should think about going back to school...
"Mom, I see the need for you to give me good advise and I appreciate that. I have a feeling that you are not proud of me as I am. If that's the case, if I remotely look like a failure to you, I want you to get off my car and call for one of those that you admire to pick you up." Well I didn't say it exactly like that because I was mad. Looking back it is a regrettable outburst prompted by latent feelings of abandonment from a woman I considered the best thing that ever happened to me. I felt that if I was going to be rejected by the person I expected to love me regardless of the circumstances, then I should let this person understand that she didn't deserve me.
I have not always been a good and exemplary child. My sister is the best person in the family as far as I am concerned. She gives to everyone and receives from few. I am a selfish person who always puts myself, my pleasures first. But you know even the egocentric person that I am recognizes when he has done well. I had taken care of my mother and it has not always been easy. When I say taken care of, it has nothing to do with the difficulties that result from being old. The age difference between my mother and me is under 18 years. So, before this incident, I had reminded my mother about what her children had done: "If my sister does nothing for you now to the day you die, she will have done more than enough." When she had told me she had "suffered" with me, I had replied: "So why is that news to me? Did you expect to give birth to me and walk away while I grew up on the mercy of fate?" I was heartless, "I owe you nothing, mom. Everything I do for you is out of love for you and not out of duty. I have my children to think of. I have to do to them the same things you did for me. That's the cycle of life, that's how it goes."
It had not always been so. My mother had always been proud of me. I fared well in Primary school where several times, I was the first in my class. My secondary school was average. I barely made it to form five where I was lucky to pick up 6 papers in the o/level GCE. Idem for my two years in high school where I failed for the first time in lower sixth, with an average of about 9.23/20. Yes, I remember the average very well. It was in the days of alcohol, girls, bally bally, cigarettes, night clubs. I was again lucky to pass in the 3 subjects I registered at the A/L levels. BCD, "not bad" some said and added for an "arts student". My grades have never really reflected my potential as a student. I am of the lazy and procrastinating breed. Did I mention that I went to college and graduated after a brief sojourn of 6 months in Besancon, France? After my father who spent some time in Belfast, Ireland, I was the second one to go "overseas" and of course the admiration was always there.
In 1994, when I graduated from the Ecole Normale Superieure (ENS), Yaounde, my mother was the happiest woman on earth. There is a picture that captured the moment when her wide smile emphasized her beauty and revealed the gap in her front upper set of teeth. That picture will always make me smile. I will always love my mother for that particular moment captured for posterity.
From the moment she came to Bafia (Muyuka) and "stole" my sister and me from my father's aunt, my mother had done her best to give me everything that I ever asked for. Well, not exactly everything because I knew we were poor and poor people unconsciously set their limits. I also helped my mother with the good behavior, the good grades. I would use money that was gifted to me to buy books. Yes, I know I said books. I read all my text books, (the ones that had stories) even before the school year began. I loved school. When it came to school supplies, I had it all. Occasionally there was a pair of Stan Smith (imitation) Adidas shoes that I got because my friend Didier had one. There was the disappointment with the "Power" tennis shoes whose gel like sole gave way the very day I bought it and compounded my frustration.
The one thing my mother always did for me was to trust me. She always trusted my sense of judgement and she was scarcely disappointed. In class six, I remember deciding to write the common entrance exam to go to secondary school. I went to her, told her about it and she said ok. That was it! When it came time to go to college, I chose college Bilingue d'Application (CBA), Yde over Sasse College in Buea. I had been accepted in about three schools after interviews which I went to by myself of course. You may think what was your mother's role. She listened as I told her about my wishes, she encouraged my excitement and NEVER discouraged me from any pursuit that I spoke excitedly about. I don't know if my mother would have afforded to send me to Sasse College. My guess is she probably would have done everything to make it happen for me. I shudder at that possibility seeing that I was an average student who barely survived the rigor of college life. Imagine paying all that money to see your child's average at a constant 10-12 term after term.
There is one other thing for which I am grateful to my mother. She never imposed anything on me. Well, I had to take care of my sister when she went to work or went out, but that's a normal thing for older siblings to do: look after their young ones. No we didn't have to go to church on Sundays or pray before we ate, etc. We didn't have to thank God at every opportunity. This does not mean my mother is not religious. Oh no. I remember going to church with her at Bastos and drinking tea after church in the early eighties. That was once in a while. Today, my mother and I have different paths as far as spirituality is concerned. My mother, I am glad to say is not the fervent religious types who prompted me to hate the christian and all religions even more than the fairy tales used to control them. Today I am happy that I happy that I am FREE of any religious beliefs. Of course, my mother like a lot of people thinks I am a fool. Maybe they are right: I am a happy fool who is free of any religious control.
How do you begin to explain to anyone how wonderful your mother's love is without them thinking that it is nothing compared to theirs? You just can't. You can't stop either because, regardless of how everyone else views your mother, she will never cease to be special. Ok, I love my mother. This is not new. Those who know me know this, but they don't know how much and why.
As we drove on Landover road just after the intersection with Lottsford Rd in MD heading towards Upper Marlboro, I felt the need to stop and speak to my mother. She had been critical about my way of life which lacked the lustre and flair of those who have succeeded in the USA: Doctors, Lawyers, Nurses, etc. People who lived in "big Houses", drove nice cars and ... well you get the picture. I was a teacher and my mother felt that by subtly letting me know that I had to supplement my income with a "second" job or even a third job, she was giving me good advice, she was helping me. She had even mentioned that I should think about going back to school...
"Mom, I see the need for you to give me good advise and I appreciate that. I have a feeling that you are not proud of me as I am. If that's the case, if I remotely look like a failure to you, I want you to get off my car and call for one of those that you admire to pick you up." Well I didn't say it exactly like that because I was mad. Looking back it is a regrettable outburst prompted by latent feelings of abandonment from a woman I considered the best thing that ever happened to me. I felt that if I was going to be rejected by the person I expected to love me regardless of the circumstances, then I should let this person understand that she didn't deserve me.
I have not always been a good and exemplary child. My sister is the best person in the family as far as I am concerned. She gives to everyone and receives from few. I am a selfish person who always puts myself, my pleasures first. But you know even the egocentric person that I am recognizes when he has done well. I had taken care of my mother and it has not always been easy. When I say taken care of, it has nothing to do with the difficulties that result from being old. The age difference between my mother and me is under 18 years. So, before this incident, I had reminded my mother about what her children had done: "If my sister does nothing for you now to the day you die, she will have done more than enough." When she had told me she had "suffered" with me, I had replied: "So why is that news to me? Did you expect to give birth to me and walk away while I grew up on the mercy of fate?" I was heartless, "I owe you nothing, mom. Everything I do for you is out of love for you and not out of duty. I have my children to think of. I have to do to them the same things you did for me. That's the cycle of life, that's how it goes."
It had not always been so. My mother had always been proud of me. I fared well in Primary school where several times, I was the first in my class. My secondary school was average. I barely made it to form five where I was lucky to pick up 6 papers in the o/level GCE. Idem for my two years in high school where I failed for the first time in lower sixth, with an average of about 9.23/20. Yes, I remember the average very well. It was in the days of alcohol, girls, bally bally, cigarettes, night clubs. I was again lucky to pass in the 3 subjects I registered at the A/L levels. BCD, "not bad" some said and added for an "arts student". My grades have never really reflected my potential as a student. I am of the lazy and procrastinating breed. Did I mention that I went to college and graduated after a brief sojourn of 6 months in Besancon, France? After my father who spent some time in Belfast, Ireland, I was the second one to go "overseas" and of course the admiration was always there.
In 1994, when I graduated from the Ecole Normale Superieure (ENS), Yaounde, my mother was the happiest woman on earth. There is a picture that captured the moment when her wide smile emphasized her beauty and revealed the gap in her front upper set of teeth. That picture will always make me smile. I will always love my mother for that particular moment captured for posterity.
From the moment she came to Bafia (Muyuka) and "stole" my sister and me from my father's aunt, my mother had done her best to give me everything that I ever asked for. Well, not exactly everything because I knew we were poor and poor people unconsciously set their limits. I also helped my mother with the good behavior, the good grades. I would use money that was gifted to me to buy books. Yes, I know I said books. I read all my text books, (the ones that had stories) even before the school year began. I loved school. When it came to school supplies, I had it all. Occasionally there was a pair of Stan Smith (imitation) Adidas shoes that I got because my friend Didier had one. There was the disappointment with the "Power" tennis shoes whose gel like sole gave way the very day I bought it and compounded my frustration.
The one thing my mother always did for me was to trust me. She always trusted my sense of judgement and she was scarcely disappointed. In class six, I remember deciding to write the common entrance exam to go to secondary school. I went to her, told her about it and she said ok. That was it! When it came time to go to college, I chose college Bilingue d'Application (CBA), Yde over Sasse College in Buea. I had been accepted in about three schools after interviews which I went to by myself of course. You may think what was your mother's role. She listened as I told her about my wishes, she encouraged my excitement and NEVER discouraged me from any pursuit that I spoke excitedly about. I don't know if my mother would have afforded to send me to Sasse College. My guess is she probably would have done everything to make it happen for me. I shudder at that possibility seeing that I was an average student who barely survived the rigor of college life. Imagine paying all that money to see your child's average at a constant 10-12 term after term.
There is one other thing for which I am grateful to my mother. She never imposed anything on me. Well, I had to take care of my sister when she went to work or went out, but that's a normal thing for older siblings to do: look after their young ones. No we didn't have to go to church on Sundays or pray before we ate, etc. We didn't have to thank God at every opportunity. This does not mean my mother is not religious. Oh no. I remember going to church with her at Bastos and drinking tea after church in the early eighties. That was once in a while. Today, my mother and I have different paths as far as spirituality is concerned. My mother, I am glad to say is not the fervent religious types who prompted me to hate the christian and all religions even more than the fairy tales used to control them. Today I am happy that I happy that I am FREE of any religious beliefs. Of course, my mother like a lot of people thinks I am a fool. Maybe they are right: I am a happy fool who is free of any religious control.
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