While reading this week's prompt, only one person came to mind -- my Grandma. Actually, the person I'm going to be talking about is my maternal grandmother. My dad's mum passed exactly eight years after I was born, I didn't get the chance to feel her love as my maternal grandmother. When I turned fourteen years old, my cousin and I were taken to live with my grandma.

Growing up in her home is something I will never forget. Back then it didn't seem much, but now that I'm older and considerably wiser I know it was a lot. My grandma, from the spot where she usually sits outside the house from morning till evening, saw and understood everything that went on in her home and to us. Some she turned a blind eye to, some she scolded, and others she disciplined (to the best of her energy).

My grandma was more interested in my education way more than I was. There was nothing about school that I told her that she didn't take very seriously, even the ones I forgot she'll remind me and make sure it is settled. Several times when we were sent back from school because we hadn't paid our fees, it hurt her. Of course, as children, we didn't notice or we weren't paying attention. But now I remember, that was sad. She had emptied her savings several times just to make sure we were fed and had the things needed for school. I didn't mention that she was a mother to all. She had taught many children, who were adults already when I was much younger, who came around once in a while to greet her. They called her "missus". I guess that explains why she was very committed to our studies.

I remember when I was writing my second senior secondary school certificate examination, and I didn't have transport money, she went in and brought out the money someone had just given her for drugs and gave it to me just so I didn't miss that paper.

Unfortunately, she passed on before she could get a wrapper from me on my wedding day. Even now that I'm done with the university, I still imagine myself going to tell her that her prayers have been answered.

Recently, I find myself singing songs she usually sang during our morning devotions, songs I don't hear anywhere else. Sometimes she would call me "iyeee, onyero Esther" them I would reply "meroo". Meaning who's there? I would reply it's me, Esther. She had poor eyesight.

I miss my grandma every day, and I don't think I've fully accepted that she's gone. If she were here a lot of things would have been different. I would have someone more to share my wins with. I miss how she would keep me standing for over two hours scolding and advising me at the same time.

I miss my grandma every day, and I wish she were here. 🕊️❤️