Let me start with a disclaimer LOL.
I love my mother……but I will not pretend like the rest of you do that I am best friends with her. She’s just mama – not a pal, not a BFF, not a friend but just mama LOL.
Anyway, growing up, my mother taught me a lot of valuable things – lessons that were mostly practical and delivered through the use of dangerous body damaging apparatus such as my father’s leather belt, sticks and sometimes whatever was near her that she could throw at me at the time. My mother was a professional at all kinds of lessons that required torture, however, she forgot to teach me the biggest lesson of them all, Under No Circumstances Shall Thou Spit At Random Dudes, especially those hanging around the taxi ranks! I shall never forgive my mother for this oversight…..the tiny shreds of my dignity were completely made a bonfire out of as a result of this unfortunate incident.
“He massacred my ass right in the middle of the shopping district. I ran like the wind towards my mother’s office with my 6 inch heels held firmly in my hands. I mean, what better place to seek sanctuary than in the arms of the woman who gave birth to me? Big mistake! He ran like a tornado and chased me right past the uniformed doorman and the revolving doors whilst still trying to kick my ass with his size 10 clad feet (who knew that men could multi-task? lol). With this random boy still in hot pursuit, I bumped into mama in the reception lobby and my mother being the strong Black woman that she is, decided to take charge of the situation. By taking charge of the situation, my mother wanted to know a) Why I was 20 minutes late for our appointment b) Why I was charging into her office shoeless and out of breathe and c) Why an obviously crazy airtime selling boy was chasing me. But the opportunity to address the situation was completely taken away from me, I did not have the chance to answer because airtime selling boy had already uttered, Ma…..I do not know this girl but can you imagine that she spat right in my face…..like I was common filth! Can you imagine that Ma? “
I cannot begin to describe to you what took place after those words escaped the mouth of airtime-selling boy. All I can say is that Hell hath no fury like a woman whose daughter just spat at a random stranger! She domestic-violenced my ass, right there in the reception lobby and in full view of the underpaid receptionist
who had on a hairstyle she could barely afford on her wages and was clearly being sugar-daddied by one of the senior management. It was in full view of the doorman and his weather chapped hands that had roughed from years of opening doors for management, who were clearly not disabled but were deemed too educated to be carrying out trivia such as opening doors for themselves! For a very brief moment, mama turned to airtime-selling boy and said in her boardroom authority, Mwanangu, let me handle this…….There and then, she took off her high heels, placed her handbag on the floor and proceeded to wallop me in an expert and effortless fashion, not giving a damn about the people who had started to gather.
I danced the 2-step with my feet yo-yoing on the ground like I was stepping on hot coal whilst my mother was working in her expert fashion on me. The doorman tried to come to my rescue but almost got his weather chapped hands amputated by mama’s high heels which were landing on different parts of my body in quick successive fashion. I could smell death…..even the plea’s from the underpaid receptionist were not deterring my mother from disciplining me in full public view. Next thing I knew the doorman was down on his knees, hands held high as if in surrender and crying out to my mother, Ma……please stop! She has had enough. She has learnt her lesson now. Please stop now Ma….My mother went in a bit longer and after she was satisfied the tiny shreds of dignity I had left had been completely made extinct, she ordered me to her office. I swear I could hear my mother offering the airtime-selling boy $10 for the indignity I had him suffer, which the boy unashamedly accepted! I can honestly say that was the best or worst beating of my life….depending on who you were interviewing, my mother or I.
Rewind 15 minutes earlier.
You see, I had met airtime-selling boy outside the taxi/bus rank as I was on my way to my mother’s office. OK. It is true that I had spat right at him, in his face and this is exactly how I had done it – I had looked him right in the eye and had spat at him with all the force that I could fathom! But I can explain because I see you all getting judgmental……Airtime selling boy had asked for it! The boy had literally begged me to do it! As a matter of fact, his exact words had been, If you don’t fancy me like I fancy you, then spit in my face and I will know that you mean it and I won’t ever bother you when I see you get off the kombi (mini-bus). Obviously me being the obedient child that I was taught to be in Sunday School, was not comfortable with his demand but airtime-selling boy had insisted! He had even started to follow me to my mother’s office and I was pleading with him not to, as I would get in trouble with mama if she saw me with a random dude who sells airtime at the bus and taxi rank but no, the boy had insisted. Spit in my face and I will leave you alone……..Spit in m………I didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, I turned around, looked him right in the eye and dutifully obliged!
Fast-forward 3 seconds later….
He massacred my ass right in the middle of the shopping district. I ran like the wind towards my mother’s office with my 6 inch heels held firmly in my hands.
So, lessons learnt!
I woke up missing my mother so much so dedicated to do a throwback post to some of the classic moments we all laugh about now. I say I am nothing but my mother’s child and that is because I am. I would not change a thing about my childhood or her…..for whatever she did was in the hopes that I would mature to the amazing woman that I am today. And in case you were wondering……I WAS NOT ABUSED as a child you guys and my mother is definitely my closest friend!
Happy Monday y’all!