Dear Mama

Love is a very mysterious feeling, and no matter how many people have defined it to me it still does not make any sense, at least not in words anyway. I remember this one dictionary that defined it as “Showing love”. I may not be the brightest man in the world but I know that the meaning of the word “Love” cannot be showing love, I mean that is still basically the same thing, right? Anyway, I believe love is not to be defined but to be felt, cherished and given right back when it is received; and to me that is what “showing love” is really about.

A wise man once said “A mother’s love is sacred”. A mother’s love is the closest love to God’s, and God is love.

I have learned over the years that the strange phenomenon about love is the stronger you feel it, the harder it is to express it. We all have had those friends that would tell every girl they meet how much they love them, they would be really poetic about it that everyone would just fall for it but as soon as he meets that one girl he truly loves, all his wordsmith expertise come to a sudden demise.

With that said, my mother’s birthday is coming up in just a couple of days. And her present, I had planned to write her a letter just to let her know how much she really means to me, and how I’m grateful for all she’s done for me over the years. The idea seemed very enticing, I believed it would be far better that any necklace I could ever buy her because it would carry the meaning of how I truly feel about her, in my own words. As I have said, the realer it is the harder it is to express it, and because of that I have rather opted to blog about it and go back to the idea of a necklace I had dismissed initially because I felt it was “impersonal”.

This might not make sense to you but it is very deep for me. I just felt the letter would not be enough. If I wrote the letter there are so many things I would have left out, because she has done so much for me and I feel it could never be expressed with just mere words. I think there are no words to express my gratitude to a woman who got pregnant by me when she was still in her teens. And now the thing about it is I was not even her first born. She had previously conceived a beautiful bright girl, and it is such a disgrace in my culture to fall pregnant at that age she did with my older sister, and you’re not even married or planning to. In just a year she fell pregnant again with her second child (and that was me), I can only imagine the shame that she must have brought to herself and her family, and to herself in her family. So no letter would be long enough to thank her for sticking it out, for bearing the shame and keeping both of her children and doing the best she could do to raise them as normally as she could. For raising us even though she never had even a single “real” job in her life, for putting up with my dad even when she really had to leave him so that he can get to know his kids, for going from town to the next on her bare feet to do domestic works for people so that we would put food on the table, for not putting her needs before ours and for making every difficult sacrifice she ever made for us to seem really easy to us so that it would not affect us any how and we would be able to grow with smiles on your faces.

Today my mom has three kids, my older sister, myself and my younger brother. And she has subsequently managed to show all of us nothing but love and support. I always had special needs in a way, I was very emotional as a kid (still am) and I always enjoyed a little extra attention (still do). But my mama was always patient with me, gave me all that my heart ever desired and supported me all the way with no questions asked.

I have big dreams, very big dreams. I have dreams that are believed to be impossible for people with circumstances as mine. My sister always believes that I’m being childish when I talk about them, but my mother still believes in me. The crazy thing is I have not yet achieved even one of them but she has never seized to show nothing but faith and support when we talk about them. I believe someday I’ll be a well-known author, a radio DJ, a house music writer, a rapper, an actor and in the mist of it all I still believe that I will be able to still practice Public Relations as my studied profession. And other than me, the only woman that believes I can make it is ………….. Yep, the one and only.

Tell me again, can a letter cover all of that? Nope, it cannot. I believe even this article hasn’t even mentioned a quarter, I am certain that after it has been published I will remember many things that I did not mention in this letter.

A mother’s love is sacred. Love it not stingy, it does not keep track of its good deeds, for they are not contemplated but rather reflexes. With that said, it is impossible for me to remember all she has done for me, counting and remembering each deed wouldn’t really achieve anything either. Love is meant to be shown, not told. The best thing I can do to show my gratitude is to respect, love, and support and always be there for her at all times as she has done for me all my life. it would not be too difficult because she will always be by my side, so my job is much easier for it is just to acknowledge her presence and show her I appreciate it by giving her my “presence” in the very same way she has given me hers.

No words would ever be enough to express how I feel right now. If I attempted to describe it, I would just write forever. I would probably cut myself trying to find something that is as real as the feeling. SI would probably fly out of this world just to show how much I believe in it, and walk on water trying to show how powerful the feeling really is.

On that note, I would just like to end bluntly here because I could not find a perfect conclusion for this letter, for such love is infinite.




  1. Pingback: Dear Mama | weareubuntuhumanity
  2. Mawande Nxumalo · October 20, 2014



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