The Single Mother Syndrome – Part 2

And true to my pledge, I surprised my mother the next evening after dinner, when I called for the resumption of our talk. After we had settled down, and as if my mother had prepared her line of attack, just shot out, “And according to you, if most of the women out there aren’t prepared for the long haul, how come they are happily married? Or, are these women from another planet? Have you forgotten that if you want to walk on wet grounds, you must first throw water on the grounds?” When I managed to stop laughing, I responded, “Mum, first of all, most of the couples you saw out there aren’t happily married, but seemingly happily married. You don’t want to know how they live in their homes. Second of all, though these women aren’t from another planet, the couples have perfected the art of split-personalities. And third of all, why should I want to walk on wet grounds, and then come and mess up my rugs?”

I continued, “Mum, what happened to the ethics of your generation when children were told, taught and warned never to beg or receive from anyone outside their homes; least of all, from strangers. And that was even before the advent of modern religions, which have now done us more harm than good. I mean the days when though, our forefathers/foremothers could neither read nor write in any language, were honest, compassionate and morally upright. Now that we claim to have arrived, and claiming to know the history of other nations more than our own, we have become chronic beggars, among other vices. Our children, students, single, married and unmarried parents, now beg with impunity. They even beg from complete strangers that they can see and those they can’t see. They don’t only claim to have the right to beg bet they even deny those they beg from, the right to refuse. What arrogance? And they justify their unholy behaviours with, “This is Naija.” As if those vices, have been enshrined in our constitution. They beg and receive from, armed robbers, drug pushers, ritual-killers and treasury looters; without an atom of shame.”

My mother just looked on, as I stopped to catch my breath. Wow, what a night? Finally, I said, “Mum, all this talking is beginning to make me hungry, and if we don’t stop tonight’s session soon, I may have to ask for food.” What a relief, when she agreed and we hugged and said, “Good night.”