Where Is My Mother?
The suya burned my tongue, but I kept chewing.
It tasted so good.
The meat seller didn't say anything. He just went back to his fire and cut more suya for other people. He didn't ask where I was going. He didn't tell me to leave.
But I couldn't stay.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. My stomach was full now, but I still felt scared.
Where was Mama?
She'd been gone since morning. Sometimes she left and came back late. But the sun was going down, and it was getting dark.
What if she didn't come back?
I turned and ran. I needed to go home.
Our home was just a small, broken hut near the market. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. I had to find her.
When I got home, I saw that the mat was empty.
The clay pot she used to fetch water was still sitting there, just like it always was.
Mama wasn't home.
A cold lump formed in my chest.
Where was she?
I turned around and ran again. The village wasn't big, but to me, it felt huge. I ran past people packing up their things, looking everywhere.
"Mama!" I called out. "Mama!"
But no one answered.
I ran to the stream where Mama liked to sit and stare at the water. But she wasn't there.
I ran to the market, checking the mango tree, behind the food stalls where Mama sometimes begged for food. But she wasn't there either.
My throat hurt from calling her name, but I didn't stop.
What if something happened to her? What if she was lost?
Tears filled my eyes. I wiped them away and kept running.
I saw Kola, a boy who sometimes threw stones at me. He was laughing with his friends.
"Kola," I whispered. "Did you see my mama?"
He turned to look at me. "Your mad mama? Maybe someone took her. Maybe she's dead."
His friends laughed.
I shook my head.
No. Mama wasn't dead. She couldn't be.
I turned and ran again, but my feet were tired, and my chest felt tight. I had to find her.
Then, I heard something. A sound.
A soft, quiet voice.
"Mama?" I called, barely able to speak.
I followed the sound. It came from behind some wooden crates. My heart raced. Was it really her?
I pushed the crates aside and saw her sitting on the ground, her back against the wall. Her hair was wild and tangled. Her wrapper was torn, and she was mumbling to herself, rocking back and forth.
My heart jumped.
I ran to her.
"Mama!" I said, kneeling beside her. "Mama, I was looking for you. I was scared."
She didn't look at me. She kept rocking and mumbling.
I touched her hand. It was cold.
Tears filled my eyes again. "Mama, please, let's go home."
She didn't answer.
I took a deep breath and tried again.
"Mama, it's just me. Let's go home."
Her eyes moved, and for a moment, I thought she saw me.
For a tiny moment, she looked like she knew me.
"My... my child?" she whispered.
I almost smiled through my tears.
"Yes, Mama! It's me! Let's go home."
Her fingers touched my cheek. It was soft, like she was trying to remember who I was. Then, just like that, her eyes became lost again.
"No... no... I can't..." She pulled away, shaking her head. "They're coming... they're always coming."
"Mama, who?" I asked. "No one is coming. It's just me."
She gripped her head tightly.
"No! No! I must go!"
Before I could stop her, she jumped up, looking wild.
"Mama, wait!" I shouted, but she was already running.
I ran after her, my legs heavy and tired, but she was faster.
I couldn't keep up.
She disappeared into the night, and I was left standing there.
I couldn't breathe.
Mama was gone again.