Where is my mother?

Where is my mother?

“My mum stayed with my dad when it was raining fire and brimstone. Today they are living in luxury that they had welled up in those trying times” I retorted . She looked at me with awe and amazement. “I am not your mother” with a stern and fierce look “I can’t wait for rain when there is a sun shining and waiting for me elsewhere.” she rounded off as she exit the door angrily. Mayowa! Mayowa!! I shouted after her hasty footsteps but she was gone like fart. The stunk of her words radiated in my nostrils and head for a while then left after some time like she did.

Another lady just walked out my trousers, the door and my life. When will this stop? When will these ladies understand that I need more time? I am just a man trying to get my feet well stamped on the ground like every other man after all. Where is my mother in all these women? ©Eminefoh



One thought on “Where is my mother?” by Eminefoh (@Eminefoh)

  1. If you ask me, na who I go ask? I very much enjoyed this.

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