Ma Bubu

I remember his birth very vividly, it was football season in the US and I had gone with a friend I made during my sojourn to go watch the game in another friend’s house. 

I wish I understood the game; I kept starring at everyone in the room and wondered why they were so excited.

Screams of touchdown at intervals filled the air and I struggled to enjoy the game as much as the rest of the party. 

I was going to be a mother a second time and so when the first pain came I knew it wasn’t Braxton hicks but the real contractions.

I signaled to my friend that we had to leave; pregnancy made me realise that I do not like negative attention. I was so careful and had to hide the fact that I was in a lot of pains just so the others wouldn’t notice what was going on. I wasn’t about to kill their joy.

We left for the hospital but I asked my friend to take me to the stores instead since I still had some last minute shopping to do. The pains kept coming at intervals and I was observing the times like I had been taught in my ante-natal classes. 

I was quite aware that unlike my dear country, the emergency number there was quite effective and the thought of being strapped and wheeled into an ambulance made me walk smarter.

By the time we left the stores, the pains were coming within very short periods and the only reasonable thing to do was get myself to the hospital. 

As a Naija girl, I refused epidural which the nurses found very hard to believe. They were convinced that I was crazy to be in such terrible pains and still refuse to be helped. But women really go through a lot, childbirth is no child's play.

When I finally birthed my son, my first words were Chukwu Ebuka! (God is Great!) I immediately knew that I had a name for my precious little baby. I was worried though that my late mother in law would have another name for him which would be his first name without an argument. She was a lovely woman and I would not even deny her that honour. It was a battle I wouldn't win with hubby.

So I made up my mind that I wouldn’t bicker over naming any child of mine again, I would simply call him the name that I want to call him and let others call him what they preferred to call him.

When I got a call from home to say that mum in law named my baby Chukwu Ebuka, I exclaimed again Chukwu Ebuka n’ezie! (God is great indeed!). Then I knew that this child of mine was special. He has a beautiful heart yet very mischievous. 

Chukwuebuka is the one who notices my new hairdo and a new dress. He looks at my face and wants to know if I am alright. He is the one who is not afraid to make a promise to me. 

I watched him make efforts when he struggled academically and he made me a proud mother when he joined the league of outstanding students in his school.

Bubu is so easy to love. He is bold and never afraid to take a risk, gets into all sorts of trouble yet will own up to his actions without thinking twice, lying is hardly an option for Ma Bubu like I fondly call him (not like the Bubu of Aso Rock please).

On March 1st 2018, my athlete and exceptional footballer turned fifteen years and as I think of him, one thing I'm sure of is that he will always be my fat bow legged baby.

No matter his age, I’ll still see him the same way and I will forever be thankful to the Almighty God for blessing Chukwuebuka Nwam! Bubulistic, Bubulicious, Ma Bubu, Nwa m oma, (My good child) Obi nne ya, (His mother's heart) Nwa Chukwu telu mmanu. (God’s Annointed child).

I love you baby! Happy Birthday to you!

We just had to see him

The life of a mother, drove all the way to see my baby

Bubu was in that very young tummy

Writhing in labour pain