The last couple of weeks have been so hard for me. I lost my mum! I am not able to reconcile with that reality. It feels like a weird, scary dream that I forget for a bit but comes back every now and then, revealing a new part of itself. I don’t know how to process it. My immediate instinct, any time that reality pulls at my heart, is to want to speak with my mum. For all my life, no one else but she knew what to say when I had strange dreams. She was my Joseph. And she probably thought she would pass on that gift when she named me Joseph. My mother taught me how put order on my formless dreams. A time there was I got confused on a life’s direction. There was only one person I could go to and speak my mind without pre-appointment…without asking for permission…without needing to ask if it was convenient.
I had just thought of a decision that’d change the direction of my life forever. The usual restless palaver and distant noise of traders haggling over price fine margins filled every where, including my mum’s shop. Calculator in her left hand, the other hand giving hurried directions to her assistants, mum stopped me short as I casually worked in. “Tobi, you’d not greet me. How was computer learning today?”
“ You’re busy ma.” I didn’t stop.
“Beside the fridge is a cooler that has your food. Yours is on top, leave the other for your little ones.”
It could not wait. “Mummy mi?”
NB: Grief yet drowns my memories in teary flood. Hopefully, it’ll subside and I’ll process both grief and memories in words.
Tobi Idowu 