Fatuma’s Gift

They say every child is a gift,
But my birth was a curse,
Took the life of the woman who gave me one,
What is this I’ve become,  less than the man my mama would have wished,
Addicted to drugs and the fast life,
Living without worry and care,
When it’s not the liquor it’s the high end drugs,
The harder the better,
Always working out how to get some more,
I could work but that takes too long,
I need my money urgently,
Two kids to feed and a mother to keep happy.
I used to be lost in these streets, a child of the wicked world,
With no parents to teach me better,
I learnt like everyone else here did,
From picking the less appetising fruits to getting mercy aid.
On some days very little coins would be dropped in our big sister’s bowl,
She was our mother, our father,
Our saviour in rags and patches.
But she gave us the greatest gift of all. A mothers love.
When I was lost, wounded and hurt after a robbery gone sour,
It was her, dressing my wounds, feeding me.
She gave me life again.
In her eyes I was still whole and complete even with so many flaws,
She taught me how to care, how to be gentle. Make an honest shilling and spend it wisely.
When all hope was lost for me she gave me a new lease of life,
A reason to live again.
I had finally got enough to pay us rent,
Found a steady supply of clients,
But on that dreadful night as I walked to our parking lot,
Where we all turned in to sleep,  I heard a scream.
It was a heart wrenching cry for help,
My legs went numb, from the sound of it, I was too late.
I could feel my heart break into tiny little fragments,
As I ran up to our bloc the sight of blood flowing freely stopped me dead in my tracks.
The tears were already welling up giving me double vision.
The only love I’d ever known in my life had just been taken away,
How could the world be this cruel,
Didn’t I deserve a mother, didn’t she deserve happiness.
I held her head in my arms, breathing heavily. I could tell her life force was waning fast,
She clutched at the stab wound on her stomach in one hand and pulled me closer,
In a laboured voice she barely whispered,
“Promise me, promise me you will overcome this and get our children a good life and education”
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, I was overwhelmed by her courage.
“I will” I proclaimed hugging her. She was almost gone now, I could feel her heart beat weakening,
“Don’t let my death destroy what we’ve worked for, promise me”
Even on her soiled deathbed she still cared about me. Still had great hope in me.
I felt her breathing get laboured, she was leaving us.
All alone in this wicked world.
I was broken, I had no one else, without mama fatuma I was nobody.
Just another body count on the street.
I knew the gang who had taken her life and all for what, 3 months worth of rent for a small place.
The money I’d been breaking my back for.
I lost my mind, abandoned our children, I couldn’t go to the police.
They would probably arrest me first for my past transgressions,
I’ve been drinking for a month now but things are not getting better,
Our two children are going to be ready for school next year.
I promised my mother I’d give them the life I never had,
So they could read and write, have a better chance off this streets than I ever had.
I looked at the bottle in my hand, cheap third generation liquor.
Taking away what little strength I had left,
My two beautiful children running around in small circles waiting for their lunch.
I can’t go on with this life that I’m leading.
Children are a gift,  so precious and priceless no money can buy.
So when you meet me in the market place asking if I can help you carry your luggage don’t despise me,
Am not what the streets made me,  I rose above all the despair thanks to the love of my second mother,
To the gentle giant you see now.
Trying to make it in life the only way I know how to.
My children are joining school next year, we live in a small house on the outskirts of town. In the small slum of mama fatuma’s village.