"Mommy I cannot find my biro", I said, dressed in my pinafore, blouse and white stockings for school, my face glistening from the baby oil my mother always applied generously. I was barely eight years old, but I knew something was wrong. She didn't say anything and so it confirmed it; something was wrong. I knew because amongst other things my elder brother and I now had to share a four-slice pack of biscuits during break at school, just like we were sharing everything else.

And she had tears in her eyes now; I could swear I saw a couple run down her face but she brushed them away so quickly I wasn't sure and besides I had a more pressing need : I needed a biro for school.

It was 1994, without the internet (at least to us), without mobile phones, and without our daddy who was 'far away' on a training course. Mom had stretched what little food, money, and comforts we had without us noticing till that morning when she shed tears because she couldn't afford three naira for a biro for me.

Now I don't remember where she 'produced' one from that day, and it doesn't really matter. Daddy came back soon after, and things have been better ever since. That morning has been etched in my mind forever however, and was my first real life definition of what being a mother is all about.

Everyday I watched her put us first, cleaning scraped knees, packing lunches, washing my hair, putting me to sleep after any of the numerous nightmares I had as a child, picking up after us, and the beautiful stories she told. As we grew up, she turned counselor/friend, enemy when we didn't agree on issues, and friends again when we came back to cry on her shoulders. She's held our family together, and I've watched her severally deny herself so the family can get the best of what we need.

I look forward to having my own family soon, and I can only pray I am half of what she is to us to my family. She's my unending miracle, she is my mother.

*Biro = pen

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Your story grabbed me. I relate to your concept of miracle being a living, breathing human. Great line, "She's my unending miracle, she is my mother."

I love that- unending miracle.

Your story made me smile and resonated with me.

Best to you,


Dearest Chioma,

You write incredibly beautifully! This is such a wonderful, moving story of a mother's love and it is all the more alive because of your true talent with words! The idea of an unending miracle also made me smile.

Best wishes, Sydney

I'm glad you liked it; I owe everything I am today to both my parents, but my mother is really unending! She never stops giving, loving, and being my mom.....I just love her to bits!

CNCA @chiomachuka on Twitter

That mother, that hero of yours is someone I have seen and known too! I believe most of us have known her. The question is, did all consider her the hero? Maybe yes, maybe not. By telling her story, you prove, your mother's sweat and labor didn't go in vain; her daughter learnt gratitude, and sing of it too - a quality that makes a fine woman!

Stella Paul Twitter: @stellasglobe

Thank you Stella for your comment! To answer your question, yes we did, and we still do! I'm grateful for her, and I hope I am great enough for my daughter to say this about me some day!

CNCA @chiomachuka on Twitter

You brought tears in my eyes, that is how mothers are the most beautiful beings of the world. Their love is universal, they give to their chidren more then we expect. Once I asked my mother to define motherhood, she told me motherhood means accepting your hopes our bright destination. My mother is uneducated, but she is the one holding my hand in every difficult situation at home or relatives. Thus we love our miracles, our mothers... thanks, bests, Parwana Fayyaz

I'm excited you loved my post, and the truth is, regardless of the level of education our mothers have, they are the ones we run back to for guidance. It is the feeling that we are loved and cared for unconditionally by them that takes us back, even when we leave of our own freewill. Hugs!

CNCA @chiomachuka on Twitter

I think we are very good daughters that we love our parents and care about our mothers too much.. I think both of us are lucky.. you are a beautiful daughter for your mother,, Hugs, Parwana

Mom is great for her children ,friend .Every mom is the protector for her kids.My mom is also a good example for me.I will share about my mom next time . Let's make a friend , right ?