When Motherhood Becomes Colourless

Being a mother is one of the greatest and noblest privileges, exclusively reserved for women; a privilege to partner with divinity in the creation of another life.

Expectedly, a true mother is the sunshine of her home, giving light and life all that are within her domain. She stands as the life-line of her family, sparkling with boundless love, dedication, the sweet fragrance of joy in her work and optimism about the future. Unalloyed, sacrificial love is the attribute of a true mother; it runs in her veins like clean water from the ocean; yes, it translates into passion and action.

A true mother is compassion personified. She weathers all storms in order to give the best to her children. In fact, she hardly counts any price too high to pay for them. And even when all around her fails, the thought of her children’s wellbeing is the reason she wants to live. They are her world, her pride, her joy and her hope for a better tomorrow.

Unfortunately, not every woman is a mother. It does not matter whether she is single or married; just as a tree is known by its fruits, a true mother is readily known by her manner of life.

A mother in my community turns out to be a total contradiction to the woman I just described. She is so possessive with her money that she could hardly spare it for her daughter’s needs. Khadijat was a promising teenage girl with a great future ahead of her. At age 12 she started menstruating. Expectedly, her menstrual flow came with some disturbing emotions and mindboggling questions but her mother did not have the time to give her necessary support.

Whenever Khadijat asked for money to buy sanitary pad, her mother seized the moment to tongue-lash her. Yes, she got the money; but the hostility with which it came often made her depressed and lost. Sadly too, her father could not provide any respite as he was jobless and largely dependent on his wife for the upkeep of the family.

Being the first child, Khadijat’s mother expected her daughter to be “supportive” by taking responsibility for herself, and possibly her sibling. For all she cared, Khadijat, now 15 years old, ought to use what she had to get what she needed. “Can’t you go out and look for money? Don’t you know what your friends do to take care of their needs? Must I be the one to do everything for you? Do you want to kill me?” she often yelled at her daughter.

And true to her agitation, a time came when the young lady resolved not to bother her mother with any request again. She decided to take responsibility for her life and needs. She resolved that the best thing was to give her body in exchange for money. So, she started going out with a middle-aged chap who offered her cash in exchange for sex. Not too long, she got involved with another lover.

With two strong and attractive men lavishing her with money and gifts, Khadijat felt on top of the world. She had enough for herself and something to spare for her siblings. By this time, she had started lagging behind in her studies but it didn’t matter anymore. After all, she had just one more year to finish her secondary school education.

Gradually, her mother stopped nagging and yelling. She started seeing Khadijat as her helper. And although her husband (Khadijat’s father), was thoroughly displeased with the development, it didn’t matter to her so long as there was money to spend.

It didn’t take long before Khadijat got pregnant. But she was not ready to be a mother, more so when she had just one year more before completing her secondary school education. And so, she opted for abortion. Her mother also endorsed it, arguing that it is better to get rid of the unborn baby than to bear the brunt of teenage pregnancy and early motherhood.
Unfortunately, the abortion was not properly handled. Khadijat died two days after from excessive bleeding. Of course the family was torn apart; but her father was the worst hit. He was overwhelmed by grief and sense of failure; so much so that it didn’t take long before he also passed on. Yes! Khadijat’s father died four months after his daughter lost her life to abortion.

Two lives lost within the space of six months! What a tragedy! It was indeed a devastating experience. But did it make any difference in the life and attitude of the matriarch of the family? Yes; to an extent it did! While mourning the loss of her daughter and husband, Khadijat’s mother tried to bring her three younger children closer and show some affection. But her two younger daughters had become embittered by are carelessness and overbearing attitude, which according to them led to the death of their eldest sister. Only her son, the youngest child of the family had some sympathy for his mother.

For the daughters, their sense of loss was deep; their sense of resentment and alienation was intense, especially because they felt their mother had not been fair to her husband. Indeed, it seemed there was no way forward, for over a year everyone just drifted farther and farther apart. The thought of their mother brought hate, darkness and insecurity.

Time, they say is a healer. It’s been three years now. Mother and daughters are beginning to bond as one happy family but the scars still remain indelible.

Here is the lesson for all mothers- Our children are the expressions of the glory of the unity of marriage; they are an extension of us. And since we as mothers are privileged to share in the creation of another life, we are to love our children absolutely. Remember that “the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world”.

William Shakespeare once described a good wife and mother, thus, “She must knit together the ravelled sleeve of care. She is sore labour’s bath, balm of hurt minds, chief nourisher of life’s feast. She is like a holy oil, giving light and nourishment and warmth to those within her home. And to the wandering child, she is like a candle that is set in a window at night.”