My Story

I want to share a story of mine which up till now haunts me. My mother used to be a trader, selling tomatoes, onions, pepper, and so on. Because she was a very nice woman, many people from near and far came to buy her food stuff. I used to take care of her shop whenever she wasn't around. 

One day, I went to open the shop, and what I saw was blood spilled in front of our shop. I was so afraid that I swept it away and didn't touch the blood. When my mom came, I told her about the blo.od, and she prayed and passed over it.

Two weeks later, she fell seriously ill. She was sent to prayer camps, but nothing happened. We were told that because she stepped over the blo.od, it resulted in her illness, which was believed to be spiritual. It wasn't meant for me because if it were, it should have affected me when I came into contact with it, but it didn't. Instead, it affected my mom, as it was supposedly meant for her.

My mother was constantly having diarrhea, so we used cloth to wrap her like diapers so that we could wash them after taking them off her. One day she asked me to wash one of the cloths, but I didn't. This was on a Saturday. I felt guilty but still left the house to do whatever I wanted to do. 

On Tuesday midnight, the tragedy happened. I was asleep when I heard my dad screaming for help, so my siblings and I woke up. When we got to the bedroom, we found our mother struggling to breathe.

We called out for help, but no one came to our aid. So my dad told me to hold onto her while he went out to find a car to take her to the hospital. The moment I held her was when she took her last breath. I didn't feel any heartbeat, and I knew she was gone before we could send her to the hospital. Just at the entrance of the hospital, the doctor checked her pulse and confirmed that she had passed away. That's when I started crying and felt guilty. If I had washed her cloth, maybe she might not have died thinking her own son neglected her in her time of need. Mother, wherever you are, please forgive me. 😞😢

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