On this day last year, my mother, Christiana Iyabo Adu died from the complications of Parkinson’s disease, aged 63. I don’t have words to describe the cocktail of pain and emotions that has poured though my soul since then, grief broke me into tiny little pieces.
Thank you for loving us fiercely without conditions. It didn’t matter what we did or didn’t do, it didn’t matter what we have or didn’t have, you loved us all the same.
Thank you for sacrificing your life for us. Waking up so early and sleeping so late, working all round the clock, night and day you risked your life so that we can have a life.
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For most of my adult life, I have not been contented. I wanted many things to be different, I wanted to be in another place, and I wanted more than I always had. I am not wrong to desire and pursue the bigger, better and brighter things of life, but I have not done myself much good by allowing that desire to overcome me and blind me to the beauty of the many good things I already have.
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One of my favorite songs of all times is Emeli Sande’s Read All About It. In the year I fell in love with this song, every evening after work I put it on auto replay while I drowned the noise of the world in a warm bath. There I could listen to my own inner voice, untamed, unafraid, and unashamed. There I could be the one who is not stuck in silence afraid of saying something wrong.
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Diagnosis
The pain started in 2011; I was writing my Masters dissertation, preparing for a professional exam, working two jobs and walking an average of 60 mins everyday. So, having aches in my pelvic area didn’t really look like something to be overly bothered about. The pain did not stop after weeks of taking pain meds, and along with it came a heavy downpour of period blood. Stained cloths, stained seats, stained sheets – I left blood everywhere I went.
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Their plan was to be childless, it seemed they had talked about it before they got married and they were both cool with it. One day, while they were watching a football game at a bar, he told her he wanted children. They had an argument about it and she left him at the bar to take a seat outside in the cold. He went outside to apologize and said “If it’s between you and having kids, you win. Every time. No question” To make up for their fight, they had a quickie in the restroom.
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In 2004, I started a monthly email series to my friends, their friends and basically every woman who had an email address I could grab and add to my mailing list.
After I wrote the first one, I read it over and over and I still wasn’t confident it was good enough. So, I sent it to my friend, Akin, to help me have a look at it and give me a feedback.
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