Who Sat And Washed My Infant Head. 1

Today I remember my mother. Loving and kind, full of advice for life despite finding her own way through life.

Born 3rd October 1962 as the first child to a couple of teachers. I remember her dad was a secondary school principal before he retired and her mum a teacher. She had four other siblings.

In the sixties when she was born, genotype testing before marriage wasn’t considered a norm, and for such non advancement in information, my educated granddad with a genotype AS married his lovely bride with same genotype and birthed my beautiful and loving mother with the Sickle Cell Anemia disease, ie SS genotype.

My mum followed the career path of her parents and became a teacher. But before then, she met my dad and I was formed in her womb.

Because she had been quite sickly in her teen years, in and out of hospitals(she told me of a particular episode where she begged her father to cut off her leg due to too much pain), her conceiving me so early wasn’t quite approved of by the doctors. She was 23 years of age though, they suggested an abortion but mum decided to have me. And have me she did!

I don’t have details of how her pregnancy went but I do know that when I was born, I had to be discharged to my grandparents while she remained on admission for a longer period of time. So I used to joke that I behave differently because I was raised with “cow milk” not breast milk!

Eventually, she gets discharged and returned to school to round up and graduate while I spent my early years with my grand parents and the dog who wanted me dead.

Years later things began to look up for my dad and mum enough to raise a family in the city and I join them, before then my darling brother that whom I locked in the fridge was born.

In the city, mum began working for the state government as a secondary school teacher while dad was in the forces. Dad seemed to be making so much money from his job and anything he was doing on the side that he constantly harassed and tried to intimidate mother to quit her job. Thank God she never did as it turned out that a few years down the line, father lost his job and wasn’t able to stand on his financial feet till he was called to heaven.

I must emphasize the importance of investment and planning here. True my dad had some loose change in my primary days, yet he didn’t even build a one bedroom flat in this mega city that wasn’t so mega then and lands were more affordable, rather he did a lot of Santa Claus with his money and was nicknamed “Chairman”. Only when the going went though did he realize that those who called him Chairman and he helped financially were already home owners and had investments!

Let me not digress from mum praise to dad gist, but let me chip this last thing in, after dad lost his job, we were evicted from the government quarters we stayed(though our dog Stallion gave them a hard time doing this and they had to call mum to come restrain the dog) and we spent a few years in the one room a friend of dad graciously offered us in his home before they were able to rent a place of our own.

This is getting longer than I expected. But since today is all about my mum, PLEASE permit me to continue this gist in a few hours time. I do promise to bring in the finished script before 4pm WAT.

Now let’s go out and make money to live and not live to make money. Be kind and be considerate.

Weirdly Yours,

Email: strongnigerianwoman@gmail.com

Instagram and Facebook handles:@mysurrogatetwins, @astrongnigerianwoman

Twitter:@mysurrogatetwin

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