A Tribute To My Mama Tigress

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a tribute to mother tupac — Mama Tigress. Photo By Canva

This is a tribute to my Mama. She is my best friend and my defender. Here is a tribute to the woman who chose her children’s side no matter what.

I won’t wait to pay her a tribute on her deathbed, this is my tribute o my Mama. My fierce and fearless Mama.

I used to tell my friends my mother had eyes and ears all over her body, and she even had eyes on my backpack, my bedroom, everywhere! She was ever so attentive and intentional when it came to her children. To her I will always pay a tribute.

She was the first to notice any physical and emotional changes in us. Mom knew we were troubled or sad before we could even put a finger on our own feelings. And she would ask you questions that had to be answered; I really believed in my younger years that she had special knowing powers. But really she was just an attentive, present mother. She always let us know she cared, and wanted us to be safe.

I once read on this space that someway, somehow, we become the sum total of our experiences. What I didn’t know then was that my mother had suffered her very own childhood trauma, which followed her and haunted her psyche for years. And so she was determined to make sure we knew she was a safe place, and that she would defend us with everything she had. In my teenage years, I found her protective nature overbearing and annoying, but when I heard her story in my early twenties, I understood, so I pay her a tribute today.

My father used to have a friend, we called him Uncle Phil. Uncle Phil used to work with Dad at Abossey Okai in Accra, their shops were adjacent to each other. They were really close friends, Uncle Phil spent a lot of time at our house, I think he was unmarried so he ate most of his meals in our home. According to Dad, Uncle Phil bailed him out of a sticky situation once, which is how they became such close friends.

I grew up with an older cousin, she was about three years older than me. When she was about twelve years old and I nine, my mother had the strangest talk with us, about our Uncle Phil. She said, “Phil isn’t your Uncle. He isn’t your blood relative, don’t treat or see him as your father, he is not. Treat him like you would treat anybody out there, with respect but caution. And never you go be alone with him anywhere.”

I found that talk weird. But my Mom was always weird to me so I didn’t think too much into it. What I didn’t know then was that my mother had noticed Uncle Phil’s wandering eyes; it made her uncomfortable but my Dad wouldn’t take her concerns seriously, so she was giving us the heads up in the most child-appropriate way possible.

We heeded her advice, thank God, we heeded her advice. Both of us were sure not to be alone with our Uncle Phil ever. I think Mom warned our Dad too, because he was almost always present whenever his friend was around us.

I remember Uncle Phil started calling my cousin his senior wife and me the junior wife along the line. I must have been around thirteen and my cousin sixteen. And I remember the stern warning my mother gave him. We were not his wives, will never be, it wasn’t funny. My Dad thought my mother was crazy. She didn’t care, she just wanted him to find a wife his age and leave us alone.

One day while my cousin and I played outside, our Uncle joined our game of Ludo. All was well until he commented on my sister’s budding breasts and then put his hand in my shirt and investigated if I was growing breasts too. Something about his action was uncomfortable and just plain revolting, so I pulled away. He said, “I’m just playing with you, this is our secret, all three of us.”

My sister and I locked eyes. Then she excused herself to get water. She went and ratted Phil out to my mother.

Mom came out swinging! I don’t know where she found that cane she had in her hand from. Had she had it ready for a moment like this all along? Was it meant for a misbehaving child? I don’t know. What I do know is she came swinging a cane, in Phil’s face, his body, everywhere!

My father was quick to intervene and grab my mother. Phil never set foot in our home again.

This incident caused quite the stir in our home, Dad was pissed! And he was embarrassed. He said Mom should have reported to him, but Mom didn’t think he would have taken it seriously, he wouldn’t have considered it sexual assault. So she took care of business herself! And that is why I pay her a tribute today!

And of course Phil denied ever touching me. Dad demanded an apology from Mom which he never got. Even when elders from both my paternal and maternal side met and decided Mom should apologize, she literally told them to all go phuck themselves.

Rumors started by Phil began to circulate that my Mom was mentally ill and had had a violent episode that day. Even I wondered if it was true. But Mom couldn’t be bothered. she had accomplished her mission.

We eventually moved from Accra to London. Life continued for my sister (cousin) and I uneventfully. We had the best parents in Mom and Dad, and our childhoods were amazing.

When I was about twenty years old and in College, Dad visited Ghana, and returned to London with news that Phil was in prison. His crime? Can you guess?

Defilement.

He had defiled a fifteen year old child, had been arrested and sent to prison.

Dad gathered all his girls, Mom, my sister and myself and apologized. Then we all thanked Mom for seeing what none of us could. That was the day I learned about my mother’s own experience of violent sexual assault by a family friend. The difference is her family didn’t believe her, in fact they apologized to the pedophile and had Mom apologize to her assailant too.

That kind of shit can scar a person for good. It scarred my Mom alright but it also forged her into a tigress.

Happy Mother’s Day Mama Tigress. I don’t know where I’d be if you weren’t this fierce! And so this is a tribute to you Mama. I see you!

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