I lost my mother at a very young age. I was so young that I didn’t even know she was dead and we were saying our last goodbyes to her. I was now left with only my father and big sister.

I still remember the day they buried her like it was yesterday. I was wearing a matching dress with my sister and my uncle and dad had matching suites. I remember my grandma crying her lungs out because she just lost her only daughter-in-law. I remember the cries of all those who also adored and loved her.

There were a lot of people and cars. No one fought over food as they do nowadays. People were decent back then. I remember my aunts singing and dancing around the coffin to the song, “Egetse Mane”.

When I started my first grade she was not there, holding my hand and telling me all will be well. It was painful seeing other kids happily with their mothers. I was the lonely, bald and small kid who just lost her mother.
Each year as you progress to the next grade, the teachers would call up those who don’t have mothers, it was the most heartbreaking thing as if they did it intentionally.

Everyone thinks I’m this carefree, happy girl but that’s far from the truth. I’m a girl who comes from a strict and loving family but that is not enough. My mom is not there to guide me, advise me and give me the love I need as a girl.

No-one can ever replace her no matter how rich or poor I am. I sometimes block my feelings or stress too much because if I express my pain people would say, “I am now exaggerating it.”
I can’t help feeling this deep pain inside but I have hope that with time I will heal.


Tell us: Do you also believe that time heals all wounds?