When my younger sister had a child in Accra, my mom left everything she was doing to go and live with my sister and her husband to help take care of the child. She was living with my younger sister, but every month, I sent her money, and whenever she needed medical care, she called on me.

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I was living in Accra too. My sister was in Dansoman, and I was in Labone. My mom never made any attempt to come and see where I lived. I had to visit my sister before I could set eyes on my mom. One day after work, I went to my sister’s house to take my mom home so she could see my place before going back the next morning.

I got there around 6 p.m. and drove my mom to my place. Around 9 p.m., less than an hour after her arrival, my mom said she wanted to go back to my sister’s. She nagged until I decided to drive her back to Dansoman. When I was coming back home, I was so sad that I broke down and cried.

I got pregnant by my boyfriend. That pregnancy brought a whole lot of drama that later led to our breakup. My mom was insistent that I should marry my boyfriend, but how could I marry a man who wasn’t ready to marry me? I was pregnant and suffering. My mom had gone back home because my younger sister didn’t need her services anymore.

I pleaded with my mom to come and stay with me. I had a two-bedroom house. She could have her own room and be comfortable, but my mom said no. She would rather come when I gave birth. I spoke to my friend Helena, and she came to live with me just in case I needed help at odd hours.

A week before my delivery, I asked my mom to come over. I wanted her to be there before I delivered. She said she would come but kept delaying. When I tried to push her, she said, “If you had a husband, you wouldn’t be pushing an old woman like me to do a job your husband is supposed to do.”

I went to the hospital and delivered with Helena by my side. She called my mom to tell her I had delivered. I was discharged and brought home. A week later, my mom still hadn’t called to ask how I was doing. I called her and said, “So, Mom, am I really your daughter?”

She rather played the victim. It was the end of the month, so right after we spoke, I sent her her monthly allowance. I even added extra, just in case she decided to come over.

A week later, my sister called to tell me she would come and visit with my mom the next day. I asked why she was visiting with my mom, and she answered, “Mom came here this morning. She says she would like to come and see you and the baby.”

Early the next day, she came with my sister. I didn’t see any bag that suggested she was coming to stay with me. We sat in the hall and talked. Around 4 p.m., my sister said they were taking their leave. My mom told me, “Don’t worry. I will come back before I leave Accra.”

Helena was with me. I broke down in her arms when my mom left. She said, “You should know your mom by now. Stop expecting even the little things from her, knowing very well she wouldn’t deliver.”

My sister had her second child. My mom came to stay again for over six months. I kept sending her a monthly allowance. My sister sent her money only when my mom specifically called her and asked for it. Even then, sometimes she didn’t send any because she didn’t have money.

My mom suffered a stroke early in January. My aunt and my uncle were taking care of her, so all we did was send money. I would visit her sometimes to send her food and money.

I went there a few weeks ago, and my aunt said she was tired and that because of my mom, she wasn’t able to travel and do other things, so we should come for her and continue the caregiving. I asked her, “Have you discussed that with my mom?” She said, “Yes, it’s your mom who asked me to talk to you about it. She says you live alone, so she wants to come and live with you.”

I shook my head and smiled. I told my aunt to call my younger sister and discuss the same thing with her. My younger sister’s mother-in-law is currently living with them because she’s also sick, and her husband has brought her home so my sister can help take care of her. Her place is a no-go area.

My aunt called and said my mom wanted to talk to me. She was crying on the phone, asking me to come for her. She said even getting something to eat was difficult because her sister didn’t have the time to cook anything for her. I asked her, “Have you spoken to Gladys? You usually prefer to be at her place.”

She took a deep breath before answering, “She’s in her husband’s house. You know I can’t go and put my burden on them.” I told her, “I’m currently living with a man. Let me talk to him first and see what he also says.”

She went mute for a while and then said nasally, “Vivian, he’s not even your husband, and you’re choosing him over the womb that carried you for nine months? Hmmm.”

We ended the call. Since then, I haven’t been the one to call her. My sister came here the other day, begging me in God’s name to bring my mom in before she died from deprivation. I asked her, “Was she not taking care of you and your family when she had the strength? Why are you now bringing her to me when she’s broken?”

My sister looked at me and said I was bitter and that I shouldn’t allow my bitterness to kill my mom. I have blocked her.

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When my aunt calls and they need something, I send money. When she calls and my mom wants to talk, I listen to her. But to bring her to live with me, even God can’t ask me to do that. This is the only way I can express the way I felt when she treated me that way.

If she dies tomorrow, I will be the first to go home and cry. I will bear the cost of her funeral because won’t contribute anything of worth to the funeral. I will stand atop her grave and say, “I hope you don’t judge me. Sometimes we have to pay for our sins here on earth. The same God who forgives you will also forgive me. Fare thee well.”

—Vivian

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