Hatred: So Weird An Emotion

By Uduma Umeh 6 months ago

She would sit all by herself, this beautiful woman I know.





But wondering: 

"Why does my Mom hate me with so much insistence and conviction?"

"Why has she circumscribed me within her walls...her Cosmo?"

"Why have I become to her, like the soured milk of a coconut,  useless, unneeded...  But difficult or impossible to throw away because me, the useless milk, and her  the meat are still fused in a forceful union by the shell, each, refusing to let the other go?"


"What have I not done to show her the love she deserves from me as my mother?"

"Upon being paid my first salary in my first job, I brought home every penny of that money, gave it to her thinking she would ask me to kneel down and bless me like a mother would. I make sure I visit home to be with her and take care of her. Something my siblings, those she prefers to me, would not do. When she fell ill, I was the one who had to give up my job to stay with her. I kept the faith, prayed and took her from one hospital to the other. And after all these sacrifices, what do I get?" 


"Five times have I brought home, good men that providence brought my way. And my mother rejected these men without any justifiable reason saying: 'Over my dead body will I allow any of those men to marry you.'"

When I recall the sacrifices I made these past ten years to build those relationships and how I've been told that I MUST have my mother's blessings in order to have a blissful marriage and this mother has denied me those blessings for ten years, I can't help but wish I was never born by this mother."


"Many times has she told me: ' The things you do for me and the things I do to you are like water and oil. While I'm the water, you are the oil. No matter the quantity of you, you pour into me, I will resist you by simply floating on top stubbornly. And if you keep trying so hard to mix the water and the oil, one would have to go for the other to remain. And mind you, it is usually water that will remain for it is, as you know, the source of everything.'"


Convinced now, that things are far from right. And with the purest of intentions to seek the truth...the bitter truth, this beautiful woman I know...





Goes to the Mom: "Mom, what happened? What did I do to you? How did I offend you? Why do you want to destroy my life? Tell me, for I'm ready to end it all." 


Seeing the insistence and desperation, this mother goes:


"Now that you are bold enough to want to know, I'll tell you.

 Before I had you, I'd had 4 children. Your siblings all came when life was comfortable for me and your Dad. Your Dad had a nice job and life was enjoyable. But from the day I confirmed I was pregnant with you, things went south. Your Dad died of a heart attack after he lost his job. Within the nine months you lived in me, I saw hell. You would not allow me to sleep. You would kick, kick and kick again. I suffered one illness or the other coupled with mourning my husband. Your siblings didn't give me all these troubles. The day, you were to come into the world, I almost died. I was in labor for over two days. Your siblings lasted less than five hours each. I pushed, pushed and pushed and yet, you REFUSED to come out. They told me your head was too big. Every part of my womanhood was on fire. In the end, they cut open my stomach and brought you out. Whenever I look at that scar, I hate you more for you took away my beautiful, spotless body. I weaned you when you were just 6 months for breastfeeding you was too much an unbearable punishment for me. You would bite down at my nipples and look up at me and smile, showing me a pair of little teeth that looked to me like the pillars of hell. I would dream of you wanting to kill me."


 "And in our people's culture, any child that comes with all these traces and signs is a reincarnate of an angry spirit. One that has refused to rest and that's what I see anytime I look at you. I can't help  but hate you."


This beautiful woman I know...

After she has heard all these, heave a sigh of relief. Her face lit up with smiles.

She asks: 

 "Mom, could I have known all these? First, an unborn child, then an innocent infant... Why will innocent children continue to be victimized by beliefs, custom and traditions that have outlived their relevance?"

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Uduma Umeh
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