Dear daughter,
I am glad you are here. I am as surprised as you are at this. As I am sure some wicked people have already told you, I wasn’t expecting you. Actually? I didn’t even want you. But don’t hold this against me okay? Listen, you know how you did not want to go to school that first day and cried and cried, but look how much you have come to love school and have made so many friends and your teachers adore you? Sometimes, you get what you don’t want but you come to realise it is the best thing ever. So yeah, mummy didn’t want you. But mummy can be wrong. And mummy says sorry, and she loves you now, and wants you now. And look how we are having the time of our lives.
I will not lie to you. I hated you that first day. Okay, “hated” is strong—resented then. That first week. That first month. Hell, that first year. First, you stayed in me and wouldn’t come out and I was in such discomfort. Then you came and I realised that there had been a great conspiracy to deceive all the women who have never had children, and your mother, silly her, was fooled. All my friends, all the women I ever asked told me it hurt a little and after you popped out, the pain disappeared. They lied. It hurt and hurt and hurt and my insides felt like they were being ripped out. Then you came. But the pain did not disappear. It felt like when someone who has haemorrhoids shits. True, the weight pressing down has passed but the pain is still there. I had a tear and I limped for days. I had to sit on hot water, wash with hot water, drink hot water. I hate hot water.
Then the breast milk wouldn’t come at first and you screamed and screamed and screamed and my head banged and I wanted to smother you. And you, you looked like a little pink monkey. You were ugly and don’t let anybody tell you different. Your face all scrunched up and your head an odd shape and you wouldn’t stop staring at me like you knew I had brought you somewhere bad. Indeed I had, as some research labelled Nigeria the worst place on earth to be born in 2013. Oh well, here you are.
Finally, the breast milk comes but you no longer wanted to eat. Have you seen a cow that the farmer forgot to, or was unable to milk? My breasts were engorged and I thought the skin would burst like the lady in “One Thousand Ways to Die”. Please suck I begged and you wouldn’t. I ignored you and cried. When you decided you were hungry, it was another kind of torture. My nipples caught fire and as you sucked, I cried and slapped my thigh. I suppose this was a case of damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
Then you got sick. I cried every time the nurses had to poke needles through your near-transparent skin to take your blood. This particular nurse was incompetent, she poked and poked and in the end, I grabbed you and cursed her and went back to the room. I was ready for you to die than watch you go through that.
I am not sure the exact moment when the resentment began to slip away, replaced by tenderness slowly seeping in through my pores, capillaries, veins, arteries to my very core. Or perhaps it flowed outwards from the heart—these things confuse your mama. If I were quartered and drawn, I could not say the moment when I forgave you the pain, the weight gain—hey, you know your mummy is vain, don’t look surprised. I am not sure when I forgave you the screaming and shrieking and sleepless nights. I am not sure when the ice started to thaw, and heat slowly in a cauldron—the cauldron your trusting gaze as you looked at me through lashes wet with tears; the cauldron as you sucked at my breast and I felt an answering tug in my heart; the cauldron as I read the papers and vowed to shield you from the violence without; the cauldron, your lips, as they formed the word “mummy” that first time and every time after.
Anyway, we managed you and me and like I said, here we are.
Now, I want you to know something. I love you. I carry you in my heart and in my spirit and everything I do, I have your best interests at heart. You will need to remember this because there are tough days ahead. When I say jump, you will jump. When I say go to your room and stay there, I mean it. When I say you cannot watch TV, mummy knows best. When I say that boy or girl is not good for you, by god you will stop seeing his/her ass. When I say no loud makeup and crazy-weird piercings, you are not a building or stud farm, you will listen.
And mummy is a writer. She will lock herself in her room for hours and even days and you will chant like a mantra “mummy loves me”. She will take off at a moment’s notice. She will live inside herself and assume strange mannerisms and voices, you will understand that she is being her characters.
Now, because mummy loves you and is trying to get you a daddy, as your own daddy was a scum of the earth bastard (nod vigorously), you will always say in front of mummy’s gentlemen friends that mummy is a terrific cook, a wonderful mum and a fantastic human being. You won’t be lying. She is, isn’t she? (Nod vigorously).
Now about boys, or maybe it is girls—it’s all the same to me— there’s so much to say on this but mummy has the final say. You bring him or her over, I give you a thumbs up or thumbs down, you hear me? And do not abuse your body, you are special, and do not let anyone tell you what to do, except mummy of course (nod vigorously). If you want to fuck him or her, let it be for only one reason, because you want to. Not because he or she made you feel bad, or promised you security, or asked you to prove your love to them thereby, or because you are afraid of losing them—that shit don’t fly and I will slap your face. Do it because you own you. I own you too of course. You alone are responsible for your happiness. You and me.
You will train in all the martial arts I can think up, you will be a weapon, you must be able to defend yourself in every situation. Mummy will get her gentleman friend on the police force to get you Tasers and pepper spray. You will be just fine.
We will continue this discussion later. Nod if you understand. Good. Here, give mama a hug. Now go to your room, mama needs some down time.
Chikezie Emeruem said:
LMBAO……….i don’t know where to start “mummy dearest” but walahi, i thought the thought of your full boobs was distracting enough, you then went to saying something about the choosing who & why we fuck..
Anyway, insightful piece, you kinda let women who pretend it doesn’t hurt on realities of labor. and the bond of mother & child (i say child cos e fit be son mbok). And she will need all the martial arts to fend of Yerimas of the world.
Now, back to your engorged breasts………..:p
pearlosibu said:
LOL Yerimas of this world. Truth.
MoBillionz! said:
Hahaha! Awesome! Made me laugh and drew tears from my eyes all at once. Another lovely piece …..naturally!
Please what is Loki on about? lol
pearlosibu said:
Haha. Thanks. As for Loki, let’s ask him
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neemeseereh said:
I love this post mam, it got to a point that I started seeing the reason ma mum does some things to me. I’m in love with your skills mam. May I say ‘I love you?’ . . . .
pearlosibu said:
You may so please go ahead.
Leary said:
Pearl at her best yet again. Very intriguing and insightful article. Ope *mummies and daughters* wil learn
pearlosibu said:
I hope so. Thank you.
okunade waleeyah said:
wow!!!
Dajie said:
=))º°˚˚˚°ºнaĦaнaº°˚˚˚°º=)) :D\=D/=)):p<=-P=D:D\=D/=)). Yep ♥ totally get u. And that nurse with niddles! She is lucky I'm not a serial killer. But dear daughters that I ve, if u dare bring a girl to mummy instead of a boy…….. Hell hath no fury. Its a wonderful piece Nj. Two thumbs up
pearlosibu said:
You darling homophobe *ducks* let’s hope for your sake that it doesn’t happen
St Naija said:
ErRrr loved the whole gig. It is so honest and AUTHENTIC. 🙂
Never tell a child their dad was a bastard. It is cheap and it backfires. Tell them the good parts, even if all he could do was smile.
Nice on Pearl.
pearlosibu said:
Haha St. Naija, if i said half the stuff i have on here to my kid, she would be traumatized.
Emmanuel Dairo said:
Hehehehehehehe. Anti Pearl Hehehehehe….. *keeps laughing ad infinitum*
pearlosibu said:
I laugh with you ni
bunmi familoni said:
I should have said this a long time ago—i love Pearl Osibu, whoever she is. This is how people should write, as if they are talking, saying just the shit they want to, without giving a fuck or two who is listening, or if anybody is. I love Pearl Osibu.
pearlosibu said:
And I love Bunmi Familoni, and hope she will come to my rescue when indignant Nigerians take up arms. LOL. Thank you Bunmi.
Meenarh said:
I think u stole dis letter from my brain! Except don’t eva sleep with any1! I kill u! Listen 2me nod if u understand,now go 2 ur room. Ok bye…
pearlosibu said:
LOL.
Rich said:
This is as beautiful as every letter of the word.
pearlosibu said:
Thank you!
Shareefah said:
A very good one.Got me laughing and explained a lot.I love it in all totality and can’t wait for the continuation.
Patience A said:
Pearl o…u won’t kill me. I told you then, and I will tell you again, I love you pieces! You are a fine writer…Pearl the great. Wow…!
Shaks said:
now i have a crush
pearlosibu said:
On my blog? Gee, she appreciates it. LOL
Chika Oduah said:
incredibly ripping, haunting, lovely. Great work, Madam Pearl
pearlosibu said:
Madam Chika, you are my madam at the top. Read “It happened to me” and i was awestruck. Lovely. Thank you for this, and for that
Vivian said:
The daughter will definitely grow to understand though not without some pains at first. Nice one
pearlosibu said:
She will!
Gray-Shores said:
Beautifully written
pearlosibu said:
Thank you
levite said:
As good as ever, and I know can only get better. I look forward to more of your pieces. You have a grt future in writing.
pearlosibu said:
Thank you so much for your help too in putting this together . . . .
Francis said:
Each shade of your offerings never tries to outdo the other, they just arrive in sublime textures compelling us to itch for the next fix….And nod vigorously.
pearlosibu said:
Wow. What a way to put it! Thank you. Nod away
sunmisola said:
Wow!!! Am enthralled!
Only I have a son not a daughter. But part of al this is true…the whole birthing process…it gets so bad sometimes it becomes ‘post traumatic stress ‘. This is so so wonderful…God bless u for speaking my mind.
pearlosibu said:
Hey thanks. me i do not have any children but i have been a birthmate/omugwo enough times. Thanks.
Olayinka said:
That daughter of yours…*smh* she should so prepare for life imprisonment in d dungeon of mommy.. Beautiful piece.. But I’l b praying for ur girl..
Ayodeji Lancaster said:
Another awesome piece. Nice one Pearl, nice one!
hardehyi said:
This is simply awesome… Totally describes how most women feel about their child(ren)… You had me wishing I was your child… Lovely write-up.
olawunmi said:
My God!!! You write extremely well. I am awed. Very big well down
olawunmi said:
Done*