Friends: Motherhood series

We connected so deep from the very first day we met during our Advanced level studies. It was in lower six when i met Emilda, she had just transferred from her previous school to our school. At first we never clicked for i was somehow a reserved person. From primary school i had not bothered to make many friends, especially females for i had heard many bad endings of such relationships.

She came to school a week later and it was unfortunate or can i say fortunate that i was already a prefect at the school. Our duty was to help new students with orientation of the place and also settling well in the hostels. The teacher on duty did not hesitate to call me as soon as Emilda arrived. “Emmah, you will be responsible for this young lady, make sure to show her to the dormitories and do select a nice room for her. If students are already sharing, make sure she shares with well behaved ladies.”

I smiled back at her, even though I was asking myself how i would know the nice and not nice ladies when most of my stream mates had transferred from their previous schools. I walked with Emilda and her mother to the dormitories as instructed. She was lucky that people were not yet sharing rooms and so I helped her choose a nice room to stay. Her mother helped her unpack and clean her room while they transformed the once empty room into a neatly decorated room full of pink. I did not like pink that much but having seen the mother and daughter touch on it, i admired it.

I started to miss my mother, how unfortunate of me to have lost my mother at such a tender age. She had succumbed to cancer when i was just six years old.God had i known her enough for you to take her away? Did i really have to get that punishment and worse still have a stepmother? My Dad had remarried few months after my mother died and i cannot say i have ever experienced the love of a mother from then.

The good thing is she had agreed that i be sent to boarding school from primary and this somehow made me the person i am today. I was deprived freedom to go out and play with other children during the holidays. At age six, i was already being beaten for not being able to cook or iron my own clothes. I was expected to clean a ten roomed house by age eight, while she sat down with her daughter and watched television. Whenever i tried to join them, i would get a strong beating or a cursing. Story of my life.

“Emmah”, a voice called me and i almost jumped because i was startled. I noticed i had tears in my eyes and it was Emilda’s mother who had called me and was now holding my hand. Wait a minute, i was breaking down in tears when as a leader i was expected to stay strong, why was i shaming myself here? I quickly wiped the tears on my cheeks and tried to cover it up by asking them if they needed my help with something.

Emilda’s mother invited me to sit on the bed. Wait, why?

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