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MUM TO CHILD DRAMA

In Africa, Uganda in particular, we have the craziest and funniest mums that have walked earth. Each one of you in Africa can bare me witness on this. There are questions you ask your mum and she will give you the craziest answers. There are things u will do and her reaction will make u think she is berserk.
My mum is one of those lovely haywire ladies. There a couple of incidences when I was young that crack my ribs right now. Most of these incidences is when mum loses something. She loses her mind (that’s what I think) she gets frustrated and she transfers it to the kids around. Mum would call u, “Junior! Come help me look for my handkerchief!!” (because this is one thing she loses most)
In most cases She calls me when I’m doin something so I tell her
“mum I’m a little bit busy here”
Trust me when u tell mum this, you have messed. U have terribly messed. Her anger rises like a thermometer put in hell fire. My mother I guess has never gone for anger management lessons.
She goes “what?! What did you say? Say that again!? Did I ever tell God that am busy so he should not give u to me? Huh?!”
That’s when you know that she is haywire. You start to ponder whether mum is a personal friend to God or if he has a direct call to God. And when u fail to understand it u then have to go help.
So u hear to her bedroom and ask her where to start from, u get shocked by the answer.
“in the toilet!”
“what!? How will I look for stuff in the toilet!?” that’s when u know u have been played for a fool and u can’t argue your case out. If u get the guts just know u are heading for a beating. All African mothers expect their kids to be mind readers. So as a son of an African mother u have to sketch all the pathways your mama went through till u find what she is looking for.
At this point mum gives up with searching and leaves the whole search to you. She tells u search with care and don’t come out without it thank u. Just know it has now changed from a request to an order.
After like an hour you come out and tell her you ain’t seeing it.
She will tell u to keep searching proper u will find it. Then she gives u a hint check near the bed. And u think why doesn’t She come search herself if she knows here to check. And She adds ice to the cake, she says “take your time ”
And u are like “what! it has been an hour since I started search. Mums are crazy when they lose something.

When it comes to a beating, it’s abother dramatic scenario. If u recall all that your Mama did when she wanted to beat u you will keep laughing your head off. I remember one time Mom wanted to beat me up and if she had an audience, she would would be having an Oscar by now.
It was way back when I was still in nursery when my mum punished me with a lot of drama. We were playing outside in the compound, I, my little sister and Sam the neighbour’s son. The game was to run around around the house and at a point read Sam’s father’s car number plate which was UDD 666. The problem was, the point where we were to read the number was the same point where mum’s bedroom window was. And that day She was trying to have an evening nap. All of us had to read the number and anyone who messed it had to sit and wait till when everyone messes then a new game starts.
This time bad luck was on ma shoulders. I was the one who messed up. Everyone heard me mess and I too heard myself but the fact that it was goin to take me long to get back in the game, I was not goin to listen to anyone. So an argument erupted and it got louder and louder. I think it messed mum’s dream or something. She yelled from the window telling us to keep it down or go argue from Kenya(hahaha I know. Like we should carry our argument from Uganda to Kenya where she can’t hear us. But u know these are African mothers)
We went low and kept the argument going. I didn’t want to sit. As u all know how heated argument can be, the voices rose again. And I don’t know how we couldn’t figure it out that we have to go argue from somewhere else. We kept arguing from where the window was. It went for about ten minute and all of a sudden I heard a calm voice calling out
“Junior! Come give me these sandals”
To every kid in the neighborhood, this meant trouble. Each one and every kid ran away silently and left me in this alone.
So I walk slowly because as skid u know that if u go slowly by the time u reach She may have forgiven u. I picked up the sandals for they were at the entry of her bedroom and headed to the end of the bed. I raised my hand to had them to her and instead of grabbing the sandals, she grabbed my hand. She pulled me toward the edge of the bed then grabbed the sandals.
She swung it toward me and I dodge it successfully. Ladies and gentlemen, never do this to your Mama. When I dodge the swing, it seemed like I had committed the biggest offence in history. She She let me go and headed to the door and locked it
“so u want to fight me?! Huh? Answer me!!  so u want to fight me? Ok let me lock the door so none of us runs out. We should fight till we get a winner!”
Seriously mums what do u be thinking. It’s not that we want to fight u. It’s a reflex action.
“so now u feel like a grown man. I want to drive the devil out of and u are sabotaging the process”
U wonder where the devil came from. It feels like God is her friend and the devil is the other friend She doesn’t like.
She handed me the sandal and was like “if u can’t fight here is the sandal beat me up! Beat me up!”
Of course she knows u can’t do it. Inside u be wishing u could. And mum always provoke. She keeps asking u to beat her up.
Finally she says “if u can’t beat me then lie down! Lie down and don’t disturb me while I fight the devil”
All African mother do exorcism.
When u go down She holds your short and starts striking u with the sandal while talking to the devil and it may go down these lines
“this devil (a stroke) that wants (a stroke) to take over(a stroke) my baby(a stroke)”
The other strikes come with no accountability. They just come raining. And mum will be speaking things u don’t understand. They will involve your Dad, your studies and all the food u eat.
And after the beating She told me to sit down. (you all mothers why do u tell us to sit down after beating us)
Every African kid has a story to tell about these incidences
The drama queen in mother’s also shows up when u tell them how u performed in school. A mother doesn’t want to hear of it that u failed your exams. Every African mother believes they give birth to the brightest kids on mother earth.
When u bring mum a report and and u have failed. Just know it’s trouble for that day. She will be acting up. And the biggest question they ask u is “what is this?”
This question amuses me. They all seem like they ain’t seeing what they are reading. Me as a kid I knew this was a rhetoric question but mum used to ask as if she needed an answer from me. She kept asking the question and demanding for an answer.
Note: When African mothers are angry they don’t need u to answer any question they ask even when they demand for answers. Any answer to the question was inviting a beating.
Mum kept raising her voice asking what was this on my report. So I get some courage and start explaining. Most of the kids have the same statement in their defence “everyone in class failed”
And all mums have the same answer to this question “I didn’t give birth to everyone”
Its now a draw but mum’s side seems to be having more weight. She now reads your marks loudly in the different subjects as she comments. And when she gets to a subject she understands best, she makes this her pivot.
“u failed even religious education? What kind of dense kid are u? When I gave birth to u the doctors told me u had brains but now it feels like there is a pumpkin in there”
She will them start telling u about her times when she was in school. I for one think mothers, when they get to this point start telling lies.
“in my days there is no way I could get the points u have here. How do u fail like this. I was ever the first in class but check what u gat here. Why don’t u borrow a leaf from me?”
Although they tell u this, they will never show u their academic papers. No way and asking for them is disrespect. They look at that demand like u are tryin to challenge them. “How dare u ask for my papers. So u think am lying huh? Is tthat what u think?”
Failure too calls for a beating. So she sends to go bring a cane so she can drive away Satan. Hahaha Satan She always said. U had to bring the cane. U didn’t really understand why She was goin to cane u but to her She had to drive out the failure Satan. And these canes were calmly taken like u have made a pact with mum. She canes u and asks u to thank her for that. It didn’t matter whether u were crying u had to say thank u. And sometimes she went to the extremes of telling u to sing for her.

It was so had to understand all this mothers did but when u grow up it starts dawning on u that they did this for your sake and bless them for what they did. And the drama bit, it keeps u laughing. I love my mum and I guess u all love yours too!!!

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