Remembering My Mother

The 9th November is a day etched in my memory -  on this day fourteen years ago someone very special to me - my mother, departed this world and arrived in the presence of the Lord. Time may have passed but memories still remain and her influence on my life is well and truly evident. At the core, I am still that little boy dearly loved by his Mum...

Mum with my children Taonga and Lusungu - Kitwe

I still remember her kindness, her humility, her long suffering. I remember her love for me and my siblings - I remember when I broke my arm playing football as a 9 year old, how she arrived at UTH (University Teaching Hospital) in tears after I had been rushed there by the Chilenje Police with sirens blazing (yes, once upon a time the police stations were places where one could get real thandizo (help)) - when my parents were told and they hurriedly booked a taxi (ZAMCAB) and by the time she and my Dad had traced my whereabouts I was at the X-ray department, her tears were flowing freely.

I remember how, as a fourteen year old boy in boarding school on one of my holidays, it took me three days to travel from Lusaka to home in Luangwa a distance of around 270 kilometres due to transport problems, and she thought I had fallen prey to something worse - how they searched for me, everywhere in Lusaka, while I had finally  arrived safely home. How she came rushing back when the Police came to check on me at home and confirmed with Lusaka that I had arrived home and was safe and sound - how she confessed to having been completely lost at the thought of the unthinkable and how for days she could not sleep.

Mum, My wife Aggie, the girls and my Cousin Lumbiwe - Lusaka

I remember as a small boy, how she used to read for us from scripture - especially from Proverbs in the Nyanja Bible. I can still hear her voice as she read the scriptures to me.

I remember my Mum as outgoing and generous who did not only profess but actually lived her faith in the Lord. I remember how she loved singing - being a multi linguist she spoke Nsenga, Nyanja, Tumbuka, Bemba, Lunda and a bit of Silozi...those evenings when as a family we would spend time singing hymns in any of the above languages. I remember how my mother's faith never wavered in the midst of trials, and trials were aplenty! I must confess that I also did try her on numerous occasions and yet she loved me still!

I remember how even as her health waned her faith shone through as her faith was well and truly anchored in the Lord and our saviour Jesus. I remember the last few days I spent with her as she lay on her death bed how we prayed together, we sang her favourite hymns- those that spoke to her in her situation - how we talked about anything and everything, how we cried together about everything and anything. How we confessed our failings to one another before God and asked for forgiveness from our God and from one another. It is no exaggeration when I say that I had never come across someone who was as well prepared for passing from this life as Mum was. As we parted for the last time on this earth, I remember her final words to me that her house was in order and she was now just awaiting the Lord's chosen time and how I should not have any nkhawa (worry/anxiety) about her but to go in peace and await the time and come back to do my duty. As I drove back from Petauke to Kitwe that week prior to her departing, I could not help but even amidst great sorrow, thank God for giving my Mother the privilege to prepare for meeting Him and granting her such peace which surpassed all understanding.

Below is her parting song which she taught me in that hour and was sang over and over at her funeral was:

Ndili kuza kwa ambuye

Ndisauka, ndinachimwa

Zonse zanga ndizisiya

Kukapeza moyo wina

Chorus

Yesu ndikhulupilira

Munafera ine nemwe

Mwaumphawi ndipemphera

Ndikapeze moyo wina

English translation

I am coming to the Lord

I am suffering, I have sinned

All my works I leave behind

to find another life (eternal life)

Chorus

Jesus, I believe

you died even for me

In my poverty I pray

That I  will find another life (eternal life)

As my pastor preached last Sunday, wonder of wonders we will be among the thousands upon thousands of the saints who will be worshipping our God in heaven, serving our God and enjoying fruitful work not cursed by sin, if we believe. The thought that I will see my mother and father again thrills my soul. I can only imagine...

In the meantime I just want to say thank you mama for not only bearing me but also raising me to be who I am today. I love you mama