What were your hopes Mummy? When I was growing inside you, a little secret surprise? A dot lovingly knitted together to become uniquely me, tiny fingers and toes poking outwards hopefully.
Where did you think I would end up? Maybe I could have giggled as you dressed me up for my first little walk. Or maybe I would have laughed as you tickled me for the first time. Or maybe you thought about the first time you would get to feed me and we would have that mom and baby bond. Inseparable. You and me, always.
Where did you think my first steps would carry me, Mummy? Outside and away into the clouds, or maybe closer and further into your arms, deeper into safety. Those steps with my tiny fingers curled around yours, nervously peeping around a corner to see who might be there, what surprises might come into my life.
Did you dream about my first day in school, skipping along while the cool breeze caught the braids in my hair, eyes wide and ready to take in new friends, new knowledge, new laughter? Always new, always firsts. My first game with my big sister. My first steps into this heavy, humid country. My first ride in a keke on your lap, you holding me and pointing out the trees and our friend’s homes.
Maybe I could have made you proud of me and come running home from school with my first certificate, or perhaps you would have just liked to watch me come home for the first time as you smiled quietly to yourself. Maybe my fifth birthday would have brought the whole family around and we would have savoured cakes and drinks, drinking in the joy of having made it this far.
Perhaps I would have been an adventurous teenager and explored a universe of possibilities around the world. Maybe my friends and I could have gone with you on our first shopping trip downtown and giggled together at all the people trying to look smart. We would have put flowers in each other’s hair and flirted until nightfall took us home safe.
As I grew inside you, where did you want us to go? Did you want us to leave this place, maybe see somewhere with a different history, relax on a beach together, even swim and splash in the waves. Then you would cuddle me next to a campfire and tell me stories about when things were easier here, the stories of hope your grandmother told you when you were tiny.
One day I would have left your home, worked out ways to help you and my sister, I would have worked and learned and grown, because I love you. One day, one alternative beautiful day. And one day I would always come back home to see you, I would never have forgotten you.
What did you want me to do with my life Mummy? With those precious breaths, now just a memory. I’m sure you didn’t want me to end up here. In a box, designed to carry food and hope, now holding my empty shell, still and silent.
I know you tried Mummy. I know there was no money for you to find a place for me to come safely, but when you knew I hadn’t arrived quite right you did your best. You tried to find a hospital, and at last one let you in. I know there wasn’t enough food for both of us, but you still helped me grow. You still gave me your best blood.
I know you tried. I can see you from up here with the angels, crying and begging time to go backwards for just one more cuddle, one more snuggle. I still love you Mummy, I’m still yours. Forever. I’ll see you when you get here, and we can have all
those snuggles and dances you promised me.