I have heard people talk about their mothers with so much affection. How they cared for them. How they loved them. Sacrificed for them. Gave their life for them even. But I didn't have that kind of mother.

Mine was cruel. Almost evil. Mean. Like the devil. Yes I said that. And no I don't regret saying that. Cos its true. Every word of it.

What kind of mother would push you out to the streets to look for money by all means?

That was my mother.

Where have you been all day? Ehn! Answer me you this girl. Is it because i'm still accommodating you?

She would scream at me, on a daily basis. 

When! And where is the money? Or what do you think you are going to eat? Ehn? I do everything in this house, only me, no help from anybody.

You had better bring out the money!

There would be no food for me that night, nor thereafter; until.

I had worked at jobs since I was 15. And when I collected my meagre salary at the month end, I gave it all up to be spent, by my mother.

They had told me that first time to "give it to her, you hear? After all she's your mother". So I did that. Every month I did that, all these years later.

Until today

Where are you coming from you this girl? Ehn! Tell me!

She began to shout as soon as I came through the door. She had been watching the telemundo channel on gotv, spread out on the sofa, paid for with my money.

I didn't answer. I walked across the sitting room, headed for the room cordoned up by a faded Ankara material. She got up to her feet and pulled me by the shoulder with some force, her long nails grazing my shoulder blade. I flinched but bit back the pain.

I turned to face her.

I'm leaving

Wise decision i don' think she z ur mum

She isn't your mum, 4get her and move on. You've got your whole life ahead of you

That can certainly not be your mum!

It's time to move on