wordings of the soul

A Letter To Mama By Whitney Melissa

POSTED 04/30/2018 15:37
2737 Reads A Letter To Mama By Whitney Melissa, Poetry on Tushstories
Mama, as you are reading this letter
I probably I'm hanging from one of your mango trees
At the grove behind your mud-walled hut
I probably would have chosen the gnarled one
But I remembered it is your favourite.

Mama, as you are reading this letter
I probably have already drank the herbicide
The one you keep in your hut's corner
And wag your finger warningly at me everyday
"That is poi...son. Don't... drin..nk it ever."
You stutter.

Mama, as you are reading this letter
I probably will have left home
My pallet and my few belongings will not be in my hut
Towards the city will I head for.

Mama as you are reading this
I want you to know that the quill I'm using
The parchment my words are being inked on
Was pilfered from Mr. Tom's bookshop
Not by any other person
But by me your daughter - Ntheka.
I still remember that you taught me it is wrong to steal
But I had to
So that I could write to you one last time Mama.

Mama, when I'm gone
Do not be sorrowful and bereft
I understand that you will mourn incessantly
Sing dirges from dusk till dawn.

In the event that my lifeless body will be discovered
In the mango grove behind your hut
Or in the corner of your hut if I drink the herbicide
If I leave for the city, your heart will know no rest.

However mama, I want you to understand that
Your teachings are still engraved in my mind
The Ten Commandments you teach us using rote
"Do not kill" you told us day in day out
When I'm gone, I will not only have quickened
My journey to meet my ancestors
I will also have killed you mama, only you.

You have the right to know why I intend to do this mama
First, Papa despised me from the very first days of my existence
He always wanted a son in lieu of 'his dumb ugly daughter'
As he often referred to me
Brother Marcus despised me as I was a cripple
Polio rendered my legs to be of no use
Making me an object of derision to everyone, except you mama
Sister Martha and Mary belittled me
According to them, I could not step up to their sophisticated looks.

Mama, you are the only one who cared
As you are reading this Mama
Ntheka your daughter – the cripple ,the ugly girl, Papa's dumb daughter - is gone
I do not want you to cry Mama
Always know that I loved you with all my heart
I still do
I'm totally sorry for leaving you bereft.

Mama, my ink is running out
In addition to that, the quill I 'borrowed'
From Mr. Tom's bookshop is faulty
I am now inking my final farewell words.

Mama, as you are reading this letter
Ntheka your daughter is no more
I am sorry Mama but as you always say
"Sometimes you have to do what has to be done"
I had to do this Mama
Fate dictated it
This is my letter to you
Till we meet again Mama
Weep not
Your daughter (not Papa's)

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Whitney Melissa

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