My parents had twins after they got married. Their marriage was full of issues. It was always one misunderstanding after the other with them. Eventually, my dad met someone else and decided to leave my mum. At that moment their families sat them down and advised them; “Custom demands that when you give birth to twins, you must give them a younger sibling. The two of you haven’t given your twin girls a younger sibling yet and it is not right. If you go ahead and dissolve this marriage without fulfilling custom, it will bring you a streak of bad luck.” 

I was told that after that meeting my parents decided to give their marriage another shot. They stayed together until my mum got pregnant with me. As soon as she crossed her first trimester, my dad left her and married someone else. My mother was in her forties then. Her age and the pregnancy put her life at risk but she endured it all for my sake. Fortunately for her, my twin sisters were old enough to help her take care of me after I was born. She had to raise me as a single mother. It was not an easy thing for her to do considering her poor health condition. Although things were difficult she did not back down. She fought and strived to give me a chance at life. She put me through school until I completed tertiary school. 

Somewhere along the line, my sisters got married, so it was just mum and I living together. My prayer was that I would get a good job so that I could take care of her the way she took care of me. In September 2019 God answered my prayers and I got a job. I went through life with hope burning bright in my eyes. I always told myself “My mum deserves the world and I will count myself lucky if I am able to give her a fraction of it.” As I kept hope alive, despair was knocking on my door. In 2020, the world was brought to its knees with the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic. We observed protocols and did everything we were advised to do. In June 2020, we were tested for the virus at work, and my results came out positive.

When I got my test results I was concerned about my mother. Her underlying health conditions made her immunocompromised. I didn’t want to risk exposing her to the virus so I told the officials who tested us that I would like to be kept at an isolation centre. When I settled in, I called my mum and told her what had happened. I asked her to get tested so that I know she didn’t get infected. She took the test and called to tell me it was negative. “When are you coming home?” She asked. “I will be here for at least two weeks. I feel absolutely fine mama. I am just taking safety precautions so I don’t infect you.” She didn’t sound like her usual hopeful self that day. As we were saying goodbye she cried. All my efforts to assure her that I was fine, fell on deaf ears. 

The day after we spoke my sisters called to tell me that my mum had fallen sick and she was on admission at the hospital. To date, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. The only thing my sisters tell me is “She became a shadow of herself the day you were taken to the isolation centre. Our efforts and the doctors’ efforts couldn’t keep her here with us.” On 27th June she passed away. I was released from the isolation centre the following day. The emptiness I came to meet at home still lingers at the fringes of my soul. 

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Deep down I cannot shake off the feeling that I am the cause of her death. Sometimes the way my sisters look at me tells me they think so too. Maybe I had already infected her with the virus before I tested positive. Maybe the fear of losing me sent her to the grave. I don’t really know what her last moments were,  and my sisters are tight-lipped about the details. I can see they are trying to protect my feelings by not talking about it. This only confirms my belief that I am the cause of her demise. It’s been two years now since she left but the pain of her loss is as sharp as the day it happened. They say time heals wounds but my wounds are still bleeding. I have tried to move past it but I can’t. It feels like she ripped my heart out and took it to the grave with her.

I made the mistake of trying to date someone so I wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore. It was a disaster. I held the lady to my mother’s standards. I expected her to care for me the way my mother cared for me. I now know that it was an unreasonable thing to expect from someone else’s daughter. It was silly of me to try and use her to fill the void my mother left in my heart. 

When things ended with her, I sobered up and decided to stay away from relationships until I have dealt with the grief of losing my mama. My question is, how can I overcome my mother’s loss? I haven’t been normal since she left. I put on a cheerful look for the sake of the people who care about me. But I’m falling apart on the inside. There is a loneliness that has made its home within me and I am unable to chase it away. 

For those who have experienced this kind of loss, does it ever go away? Or I just have to accept that this is my life now. Please I need help. 

–Manny

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