I couldn’t have been anything less than surprised the other day when a woman suddenly appeared in my village looking for me. She has since gone around preaching to everybody that she wants her baby back!
No stretch of imagination can dislodge the woman who raised me and inspired the man in me as the best mother in the world. I don’t remember anything from my childhood that could make me doubt her as my mum. I couldn’t care less if she isn’t my biological mother.
My lifetime mum couldn’t have been any nicer than when she offered to adopt me from that south rift hospital where I had been abandoned. With little means, she raised me alongside her man who gave me the fatherly love I would otherwise have missed.
In her endless trips down the tea estate where she traded guava fruits to make ends meet, she always had me in her back. Like her own, she taught me her language and took me to school. Even when her family perpetually pushed me away as a little brat from the other tribe, she embraced me and sealed me from their cancerous hatred.
Now the woman who only did as much as carrying me around for nine months is in town. My village 911 tells me that the doctor by profession is already planning popping bottles when I finally run into her arms. Nothing could be further from happening!