MY DYING WISH

I am so happy that I did read the feature article, written by a friend Jerry Thomas Pam, and he tagged it " MY DYING WISH ". Enjoy it.

The opportunity to live among men has always been a privilege I have earnestly hoped for with unflinching zest. I have always desired to behold the gaze of the rising sun every beautiful morning. To witness how it’s warm golden ray arouses the beautiful flowers and cause a diffusion of scents in the atmosphere. I have always desired to gaze at the celestial sphere. It’s beautiful blue parchment making hedge over all the earth.

I would always ask myself. When will I have a family where love reigns supreme? Where mum is a fountain of milk and dad my resilient hero. Where mum would wrap me on her back, sing me a lullaby as she slaps my buttocks gently at moments where going to sleep is accompanied by drizzling sobs.

I have always desired to have siblings. Maybe two or three that will sleep right next to me. I have looked forward to how we would tickle each other, laugh together and drag the blankets till mum comes in to shout “better go to sleep. Tomorrow is Monday”. I have desired to see how they will protect me from bullies, how they would teach me to sing "twinkle little star" until I am all grown, and when I grow, I have anticipated going round the world maybe to climb the rocks of  Riyom in Plateau state and watch the careful and descent topographical arrangement of nature rocks. I would stroll to Obudu of Calabar and have a feel of the warmth of nature and be torrent by its aesthetics.  I would visit the famous Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania to witness the incredible ecosystems, its arctic summit and the breath taking scenery. I would have travelled across Africa; to the great pyramids of Egypt to dance all the way on the skyscraper and see where the Pharos were kept undisturbed in their afterlife.

I would fly round the world. To dash in white heaven beach of Australia and trod on its white sands and see my feet being imprinted on the sands of time. To view the glamorous enduring waterfalls as they splash and rejuvenate the atmosphere. Yes I would travel to the bridge of London to see how it disintegrates
and couple back. I would visit the statue of liberty in New York and raise my hand alongside him.

These were my hopes when I was still an embryo. When I was still connected to my mother from within. She was my god, my all. She supplied all the food, warmth and care I needed. I was so fragile and frail, some tiny little biscuit bone, faint muscles and distant scanty little hairs. And in the third month, my fetus stage. When I was beginning to take the form of a human, when I was coming closer to all I had desired, coming to the world, being a part of God’s awesome creation. I could feel the thoughts of mum. So grieved that dad would not take responsibility of us. Dreading on her little chance of ever getting married. The horror of stigmatization from friends, family and society. How she could cope taking care of me all by herself. She is just a high school student, still a dependent. I could feel how fast her heart beats. I could see the slow hot tears that dripped from her eyes, dropping on her dry pimply face. I was in the millions of thoughts that inundated her mind. I was in that firm teary decision -ABORTION- yes I was and it was all about me. I was on that solitary pathway. I was in those slow walking steps. These were all I could come so close to experiencing. Not the hopes to travel, to have a family and to experience the gift of nature.

I came so close to a sharp long and clapping tool that first drifted me to the left, then to the right. It gave me a little pinch and a sharp strange pain. I battled to raise my hand in defense but it was not yet completely formed no fingers no arm. I battled to cry out loud but my mouth was under formation as well. I battled to move my legs, my head or any part of me that could help me but I was helpless. I battled to understand where I had gone wrong, who was doing this to me and where mother was. Painfully I felt the tender parts of my body being mutilated off.

I know I was not heard and no one could feel the pain. All I could do was to wish before I die. Before I die, I wish mum had granted me the opportunity to see her face. To appreciate her for allowing me make her look so big and keeping me for 9 months. I wish to tell her that did not care if dad left her. That I would work and study hard to reciprocate her love and affection. Before I die, I wish she knew that I would have been a T.V presenter. To tell the whole world the love she has for me; how she endured and took care of me till I am grown, to play her the best songs and send the best shout outs.

As my breath fizzles out, I wish mum knew she was putting her life at risk. I may not have an option. But what about her?  Her cervix and uterus could get perforated. Before I die, I wish mum knew the society lied when they said abortion is birth control. To tell her its simply murder. Before I die, I wish the society stops stigmatizing single mothers. I wish that men start owning up when they get a lady pregnant.

I wish developed countries would not make abortion legal. This is my dying wish, that parents will tolerate and accommodate their wards if they fall victims of circumstances. I wish school teachers stop calling their pupils bastards simply because they do not have a father bold enough to take responsibility. I also wish that the government, NGOs and individuals of goodwill will assist single mothers. That churches and mosques will tolerate single mothers and not judge or codemn them. This is also my dying wish. That boys and girls would zip up and remain chaste until they are married. That those that cannot afford to stick to the best option of staying chaste should use condoms as prevention for pregnancy and not abortion. Above all, I wish that you mum did not lose your life alongside mine.

BY: PAM JERRY THOMAS

Photo credit : google.com