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My Mother and I
 
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My Mother and I

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Mark Sikaundi
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The Birth of Sinambu

Once upon a time, in the quaint village of Mugogosheck, a place filled with rolling hills, lush greenery, and the simple sounds of nature, a beautiful baby girl was born to a hardworking woman named Beiza. The baby was named Sinambu, a name that meant "light of the family" in their native tongue. The village of Mugogosheck was known for its rich, fertile soil, and the people were primarily farmers who worked the land to feed their families and the community.

Sinambu’s mother, Beiza, was a woman of strength and resilience. She had inherited a small plot of land from her late husband, and though life had been challenging, she poured her heart and soul into making the land fruitful. Beiza was not just a farmer, but a woman of wisdom, teaching Sinambu the ways of the world and the land they depended on for their livelihood.

From a young age, Sinambu admired her mother. Beiza would rise with the sun every day, tirelessly tending to her garden, which was always brimming with fresh vegetables and fruits. The smell of the earth after the rains, the sound of birds chirping, and the gentle breeze carrying the scent of fresh produce were all things Sinambu associated with her childhood. However, as she grew older, Sinambu’s admiration for her mother didn’t always translate into understanding or appreciation for the hard work required to maintain the farm.

Lessons from the Garden

One bright morning, Beiza took Sinambu to the garden. They stood among rows of cabbage, tomatoes, and beans, all carefully planted and nurtured. Beiza’s eyes sparkled with pride as she looked over her garden.

“Sinambu,” she called, “come here for a moment.”

Sinambu, who had been lost in her own world, daydreaming about the river that ran along the edge of the village, reluctantly walked over to her mother. Beiza pointed at the leaves of the cabbages. “Do you see these small yellow spots? These are eggs, and soon they will hatch into insects that will destroy the cabbages if we don’t do something about them.”

Sinambu nodded absentmindedly.

Beiza handed her a small wooden stick. “This afternoon, I need you to check each leaf carefully and destroy all the eggs. It’s an important task, Sinambu. We need these vegetables to grow strong and healthy. Can you do that for me?”

Sinambu nodded again, though her mind was already elsewhere. She wasn’t particularly interested in checking the leaves of cabbages. In her youthful arrogance, she thought, There is no hurry in Africa, a phrase she had heard often from the village elders when they didn’t want to be rushed into anything.

The Consequence of Negligence

Later that afternoon, Sinambu was supposed to start her task, but instead, she wandered down to the river with some of the other children. They played and splashed in the cool waters until the sun began to set behind the hills. Sinambu had completely forgotten about her mother’s instructions.

Days passed, and Sinambu still hadn’t returned to the garden to check the leaves. As fate would have it, she fell ill shortly after her trip to the river. A persistent fever kept her bedridden for several days, and Beiza, concerned for her daughter, didn’t have time to check on the cabbage leaves herself.

When Sinambu finally recovered, Beiza took her hand and led her back to the garden. As they approached, Beiza’s heart sank. The once lush and green cabbage patch was now a sight of devastation. Every leaf had been eaten by insects, leaving only the bare stalks behind.

Beiza’s face hardened. She turned to Sinambu, her disappointment palpable. “Look at what has happened, Sinambu. This is what comes from neglecting your responsibilities. I asked you to help, and you chose not to. Now look at the garden. Everything is ruined.”

Sinambu’s heart filled with guilt. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, but it was too late now. The damage had been done.

A Mother’s Anger

Beiza, usually patient and calm, could not hold back her anger any longer. In her frustration, she pulled off her dress belt and began to whip Sinambu. “Wuuuuiiii, wuuuuiiii,” Sinambu cried, her small body writhing in pain and shame. The belt stung her skin, but it was the weight of her guilt that hurt the most. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded for forgiveness, her heart heavy with regret for not heeding her mother’s advice.

“Procrastination is the mother of all frustrations,” Beiza said as she stopped whipping her daughter, her voice trembling with emotion. “You must learn, Sinambu, that in life, you cannot wait to do what needs to be done. The consequences are always greater than you imagine.”

Sinambu nodded, her face still wet with tears. She understood now. She had learned a hard lesson, one that she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

Redemption and Growth

The next few days were filled with silence between Sinambu and Beiza. The garden lay in ruins, and Sinambu avoided her mother, ashamed of her failure. She spent hours alone, thinking about what had happened and how she had let her mother down.

But Beiza was not one to hold a grudge. She loved her daughter deeply, and she knew that mistakes were part of growing up. One morning, she found Sinambu sitting by the river, her eyes downcast.

“Sinambu,” Beiza called softly, sitting down beside her. “I was hard on you because I want you to be strong. Life is not easy, and we must face our responsibilities. But I forgive you. You have learned, and that is what matters.”

Sinambu looked up at her mother, her heart swelling with relief and gratitude. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ll do better. I won’t let you down again.”

Beiza smiled and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “I know you won’t.”

New Beginnings

The following week, Beiza and Sinambu began to replant the garden together. They worked side by side, Beiza teaching her daughter more about the land and the importance of diligence. Sinambu listened carefully this time, understanding that the small tasks her mother asked of her were part of something much bigger.

The village of Mugogosheck thrived on the hard work of its people, and now Sinambu understood her role in that. She was no longer the carefree child who thought there was “no hurry in Africa.” She was growing into a responsible young woman who valued her mother’s teachings and the land they lived on.

Over time, the garden flourished again, and so did Sinambu. The bond between her and her mother grew stronger as they continued to work together, facing each new day with hope and determination.

The Final Lesson

Years passed, and Sinambu grew into a wise and capable young woman. She no longer needed her mother to remind her of her duties. She took pride in the garden, just as Beiza had, and she began to teach the younger children of the village the same lessons her mother had taught her.

One day, as she walked through the garden with a group of children, she spotted small yellow marks on the cabbage leaves. She smiled to herself and called the children over.

“Look at these,” she said, pointing to the spots. “These are the eggs of insects that will destroy our crops if we don’t take care of them. Let me show you how to get rid of them.”

And so, Sinambu passed on the knowledge that her mother had given her, knowing that the lessons learned in the garden were not just about farming, but about life itself.

In the end, Sinambu realized that her mother’s wisdom had shaped her into the person she had become. The garden, the land, and the lessons of diligence and responsibility were all part of a legacy that would continue for generations to come.

Conclusion

The story of Sinambu and Beiza is one of growth, both in the garden and in life. The mistakes we make, the lessons we learn, and the love that guides us are all part of what shapes us into who we are. Procrastination, as Beiza wisely taught, is indeed the mother of all frustrations, but with each failure comes the opportunity for redemption and growth.

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