Don't forget to write about this....

So I traveled to Masaka on Thursday to support with Day of the African Child Activities in Uganda

I was only supposed to be there for the day but my colleagues neglected to mention until 4.00pm that we were staying the night . These colleague were older than me, one was in the same age bracket as my aunties yet she reminded me that age does come with maturity.  I was tired from the day and irritated by their sheepish apologies so I retreated to my room.

Luckily this is the district where my mother comes from. So I called my Aunty, my mother’s sister, and explained the dilemma.

She arrived 20 minutes earlier than the time we agreed. She hugged me longer than the time that normal people do. Her eyes looked me up and down, the way mothers do. She wanted to check and see that I was telling the truth. 

Her eyes asked me questions too.

Are you hiding something from me?

Are your really okay?

No matter how much you have grown into an adult I think your elders will always see the child inside you. The child that is masked by an adult body.

She apologized to me that she couldn’t pick me up in a car, as my Uncle was still busy working. I didn't need her to pick me up in car, but she felt it was important too.Then she took my hand and we walked to the town center. It was quiet evening in Masaka, there was no  traffic. We could chat not disturbed or disoriented by bleeping horns or flashing car lights, we could cross the road without trying to dodge the cars of angry drivers. We quickly visited the shops of my all my aunties and uncles that were still in town, then we collected all the things I needed for my unexpected sleepover. She held my hand the whole time like I was still a toddler.

When we reached her home she made me tea, she refused to allow me in the kitchen to help. She quickly rushed to the nearby shop to buy one mandazi , which she then cut into four smaller pieces just for me.

Then she joined me for tea and we talked. She told me all the things about me she was worried about. She told me all the things about my siblings she was worried about. Then she proceeded to tell me all the things I needed to do. That lovely motherly advice that helps you check to see if you are on track in this world.

My uncle returned and they dropped me back at the hotel. But not before she handed me a huge pawpaw and some sugar cane for my brothers and their families

Since I my mother died, I had forgotten what that feels like...

When someone is really concerned about your wellbeing

The picture above was taken on the journey back. I wanted to remind myself to write about this.

I scrolled through my photos today while having breakfast, I saw the picture and remembered.

So here I am posting this.

I miss you mum.

And thank you Aunty