Mama Nkechi Proud Moments After Struggles

The kerosene stove hissed softly in the corner of the one room apartment as Mama Nkechi stirred the bubbling pot of jollof rice. Her wrapper was tied tightly around her waist and sweat rolled down her forehead but she didn’t notice. Her mind was far away on Nkechi.  Her daughter’s first big stage performance was starting in less than one hour at the university auditorium. It was the grand finale of the Lagos Youth Theatre Competition and Nkechi was the lead actress in a play that had already made it to the finals. Mama Nkechi looked at the clock again and it's already 4:27 p.m. “Nkechi said the play starts at five,” she muttered tasting the rice. Fortunately, It was done. She quickly turned off the stove, wiped her hands on her wrapper and rushed to change into her best blouse and iro, her shoes were worn out but clean. She took one last look at herself in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. “You’re going to see your child shine" she said to her reflection and stepped out into the late afternoon sun. At the university gate, the security man was already frowning when Mama Nkechi approached, she said “Good evening sir, I’m here to watch my daughter’s performance" she said trying to catch her breath. The man glanced at her outfit and scoffed. “Madam, do you have an invitation card?” “No, but my daughter is Nkechi Okafo and she is in the play, she is the one acting Queen Amina" Mama Nkechi explained. “Without a pass or invitation, I cannot allow you in” he said flatly. She looked at the crowd of well dressed people walking past the gate, holding fancy tickets. Her heart dropped, she had used her last ₦500 for transport and the rice she cooked was supposed to be dinner for the week so there was no money left for a ticket. As she turned away slowly, her phone buzzed. It was Nkechi. “Mama, where are you?” her daughter asked, voice panicked. “They didn’t allow me in, they said I need invitation.” “What?” Nkechi cried. “Wait there. I’m coming" Fifteen minutes later, Nkechi appeared at the gate, dressed in full costume, royal beads around her neck and a gold wrapper flowing around her like she had walked out of history. “Mama!” she called rushing into her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t have a ticket?” “I didn’t want to stress you, my dear. I thought they would let me in.” Nkechi held her mother’s hands tightly. “Mama, don’t sweat it. I will fix this.” She turned to the security man and said “This is my mother, the queen’s mother. No performance if she’s not inside.” The security man raised an eyebrow, surprised but after a brief call to the organizers, he stepped aside. “Go in madam.” Mama Nkechi entered the auditorium wide eyed. She had never seen such a place in bright lights, velvet curtains, rows and rows of chairs. They led her to the front row. From her seat, she watched as the play began. When Nkechi walked onto the stage, strong and confident, Mama Nkechi’s heart swelled. Her daughter delivered her lines like a true queen who is bold, graceful and commanding. The audience clapped several times but no one clapped louder than Mama Nkechi. By the end of the performance, Nkechi stood under the spotlight as the curtain fell. The judges announced the winner. “And the award for Best Lead Actress goes to Nkechi Okafor!!!” The crowd cheered. Nkechi ran forward, collected her trophy then turned and raised it toward her mother. “Mama, this is for you” she shouted.  Tears rolled down Mama Nkechi’s cheeks as she clapped. That single moment wiped away years of struggle, hunger and sacrifice. Her daughter had made it. Later that night as they walked home holding hands under the moonlight, Mama Nkechi laughed. “You were right, my dear. I should not have worried.” Nkechi smiled “I told you, Mama. Don’t sweat it”. They both laughed again feeling free, proud and at peace. Note: All pictures are generated on Meta AI