Mum’s Tears

5 years old me, dressed in my cute flowy beige dress following my mum to her evening classes at the university with my baby brother on her back. She could not afford someone to look after us at night. My dad was not around much.

Illustration by Ema Sojer

Fast forward 10 years old me, witnessing my mum selling her jewelry (gifted to her by her sister) so we can have food on the table while my dad is on trip.

15 years old and I am watching my mum still go and study despite her age and hearing the news of my dad getting a second wife.

20 years old me watching my mum get her first money making job.

25 years old me watching my mum leaving my dad because she can finally financially fend for herself.

Back to this moment, my mum is sitting on her bed crying her eyes out.

My heart races. A mix of dread and restlessness. I can feel an anxiety crisis creeping up on me. I can count the number of times I have seen her cry in my whole life.

She is wearing a cotton dress with colorful flower patterns on the fabric. Her natural greying hair in a dreadlocks style falling on her shoulders. She used to have short hair but they grew as she flowered. Her bedroom is furnished, clean and homy. I can smell the scent of the Oussounan, a traditional home perfume used in west african homes.

My eyes fall on her face. She is smiling through the tears.

Written by Mariam Nourya Koné at the Female Voice