My Maamah

Today is Mother’s day…………again. Now I am not a big fan of Mother’s day for two reasons. There are too many and I can’t keep count and very few people care about Father’s day, which is quite unfair considering how hard fathers(note, I said father, not baby’s daddy. big difference) work to provide for their kids. However today’s Daily Post Challenge is dedicated to mothers and we are required to write a letter to our Mothers. So here goes. This is for my MaaMah as I call her.

My MaaMah

Anyone that sees you never fail to tell me. “Aisha, your mother is finer than you o’. Some say it as a matter of fact. Others say it in an attempt to goad me. I smile every time because It is true. Why wouldn’t it be? We did come from you after all, but you are more than just a pretty face.

My MaaMah knows four languages
My MaaMah thinks Heatol can cure any ailment
My MaaMah can change car tyres and Car batteries
My MaaMah fixes the generator
My MaaMah is an amazing tailor
My MaaMah can make any hairstyle
My MaaMah is the hardest worker I know
My MaaMah worries so much about her Kids
My MaaMah would do anything to make us happy
I can never be half the woman you are.
My MaaMah is secretly a super hero

This list is un ending
I know there are times it seems as if we don’t appreciate you. There are times that we rebel (me especially. Can’t help it. I resemble you the most in temperament), but you raised good kids and you would never lack for anything…Ever. Right Now, My only wish is that you live long enough to enjoy the goodies that your kids intend to spoil you with and that you can get to see all your grandkids and great grandkids.


From your ‘Beybey’ or Aishatu Idrisu as you still call me.

My dear Papa, You are never forgotten. You are one half of the dream Parent team.


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  8. My mother was counseling my older sister on her husband’s infidelity. These words were spoken from their conversation. “Girl, don’t you worry, about him out the with them other women. You just pick up his check, and when the other gals finds out he ain’t got no money. He will come home!” I was the little pitcher with the big ears, hiding in a closet. Maybe nine years old. What do you think about my mom’s advice?

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