Dogs CORNER

What will we ever do without those precious beings we’ve all had in our lives at one time or another and may still do? I’m talking about mothers. Strict on occasion, best of friends always and a source of endless joy and laughter. 

Mothers can really be something right?


Late last week, I realized that I hadn’t checked up on my mom for a number of days. I then called her to hear her voice and to inquire about her general wellbeing.

 It was a fairly normal conversation and nothing out of the ordinary. All of a sudden, she paused and her end of the line was silent. Thinking that it was a network glitch, I terminated the call and redialed her number.

 After repeated rings, she picked. From her voice, I could sense she was crying. I inquired what the matter was but got no response. After what seemed like an eternity, she let out a wail of sorts, screaming;

“She is dead! She is dead!”

“Mama who died?” I asked. “Who died mama?” still nothing.

Her sobs became more uncontrollable and my mind was beginning to panic. She cut the call and didn’t answer my repeated effort to reach her again. I was in a bind. I placed calls to my siblings and they were all fine. This further compounded my worry. I still tried calling my mom but got no response. My night was a torture and I could not sleep. I managed less than an hour of it. The worry really got to me.

The next morning, I went about my day with the heaviest of spirits. Nothing my wife tried to do could cheer me up. I had a meeting with a client scheduled for 10am but my mind could not focus so I cut the meeting short. Leaving the meeting venue, I mustered courage and called my mom again. This time, she picked. Her voice in a higher spirit than it was the previous night. I listened to her chit-chat patiently and at the end of it, I asked again.

“Mama, who did you say died?”
The question seemed to throw her off for a while before she replied.

“Esther. Esther died.” I tried recalling which of my aunts on both sides of the family was named Esther but I came up short. I then asked her who Esther was. Her reply?
“Oh, Esther is my goat. She has been with me for 6 years.”

I think that’s where I lost it.

“Mama, are you serious? You were crying because of a goat?” I said incredulously. Her reply was even more mind numbing. Apparently, she had formed something of a bond with that goat from what I gathered. I couldn’t believe that this woman put me through all that emotional roller coaster because of a goat. Goat that she should have simply butchered and assigned to its rightful place in the pepper soup pot as soon as it began showing signs of being unwell.

I simply told her that I was going to leave her for God and ended the call. Later in the evening, I shared the whole thing with my siblings and we had a laugh over it. I was later informed that she has a name for practically every animal in the house with her. Even down to the chickens.

 I tried keeping up with the names my siblings were mentioning. I do know for sure that when I visit for the Christmas break, I’ll expect to meet Angelina, Chilama and Dickson; two hens and one cock mama has kept around for a while now. I look forward to making their acquaintance.

Which reminds me, we are exactly 105 days to Christmas from today! O! to be a kid again for the magic of it.