Today, I take my hat off for women who deserve to be called women for they have birthed good people (a few like myself) and the masses who are not so nice. I take off my hat for women who made time to plan their children’s time and place of birth. I am talking about mommy dearest who made sure her child had everything basic to life and did not for any countable day have to question their birth. I am talking about the madam who had unprotected sex by choice and not by circumstance. Just in case you thought I was celebrating you, think again. The road to celebrating good and exemplary mothers is narrow that no side chick and quickie expert will ever travel.
There is a word I will not use today but it describes mothers who are children themselves. Mothers who for no matured reason thought their mother’s needed a last born. In fact, when you find them with their early child, you could mistake them to be siblings. Their shebeen boyfriend has fled into the dust of other fresh virgins and does not even look back at the poor sinless child. This mother by default continues with her sprees of the usual coitus hunger but ‘smarter’ this time because some not-so-well educated evening friend told her how super morning-after pills work. And just like the packs of nappies she stocked on her baby shower, you could mistake her ammunition of pills for a home pharmacy. You are such a ‘wise’ murderer.
If you are 19 years old and you have by any chance used the maternity ward services a handful times, kindly sit your panty down this week when we celebrate real mothers. Yours deserves no flowers because even your neighbours know that your baby, just like yourself, are under the support of your parents’ poverty-struck salary. How do you want me to include you in my celebration of real mothers if all you have given your child was the boob and fokol basic education (which you cannot be blamed for when you come to think of it)?
But I don’t blame you. It all started that day when you thought you were grown and your mother’s words were just another polyphonic ringtone that needed no answer. Yes, you told her that it was your life and it was your private parts and you were going to barter for the left seat in the Golf and a few Guaranas. You ignored the words of wisdom because puberty and your obsessions for ‘which does not belong to you’ clouded your intellectually bankrupt thoughts. We warned you but just like the teenager you are, you thought the idiot who bought you the Brazilians and a few dinners made him the right father to mother you. How do you believe a living mistake in the first place?
We forgive those who enjoyed motherhood by force or being sold to some sex starved tate whose thinking is as bold and short as his pubic hair. The rest of you unaccredited mothers can kiss my behind and start being real mothers. We have enough lost teenagers including yourself so do not give us more screwed brains.
I know many of us are not planned but it does not mean your sexually unplanned birth should be transmitted to the next maternity ward. You are already a living example of what quickies and ‘just the tip’ brings about.
Going forward, now that I have poked your past and how ill-legit you became a mother, I expect better of you. Step aside when we celebrate real mothers but do it with a move to become a better being such that your child does not replicate the same sickness.
For those who do not want to be in a position of not being celebrated on Mothers’ Day, I urge you to close your legs. In fact, go to your Legs Settings, (that’s if you have any), click the Security option and draw a pattern so complicated that you would be proud of yourself if no hungry man can get it.
Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers who have gone through the cramps of raising a child and being there for people who are now responsible learners, students, workers and fathers to good families too. It is because of you that we have an undisciplined child who will continue being brutal with the naked truth about things not told by some of our mothers.
Facebook: The Undisciplined Child-MfK