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When I look at my mum I see a caring mentor, a crying heart, a undisputable warrior, a mother just like the hen whose eyes never sleeps for fear of the hovering monster hawk.
My mother was once a girl whose own ambition was to become something great. Her sky and aims knows no bounds until she gave me life ....just then everything became me. Her entire lifecycle now revolve around me. If I don't eat, she won't be at ease. Her life is completely gone. All she now live on is just me and my needs.
I m a boy and soon now or later I would become a working father whose perspective is to provide the basic needs and want. These criteria are paramount but they are not enough. Mothers are special. Their body speaks for them. Their body is not theirs....they cater for both the child and the husband( father). Motherly, they feed the children, sexually , they also satisfies the Ernest preservative thunderstorm of the bedroom. She is quite an actress for both concept....or even more.
My mother, my friend....my prayer confident, my spiritual conspirator ....I love you. Thanks for the Nine months and still many years you still watched me grow.... Mama Africa....the beauty that flows from cloud's bra ....you are the most industrious ....give my mother a penny, she will make it a thousand... No wonder the Bible used "ten virgin" as an illustration for perfect exemplary for her industriousness . My mother , our mother.....love her and your world becomes a living spring...
