Get this dirty woman away from me. Moren’s voice rang out. She’s not my mother. Odoni froze. The flowers slipped from her hand. She stared at her daughter, not understanding. She traveled all day just to surprise her child, just to say, “I am proud of you.” Morin hissed and turned to her friends. “Please don’t mind this woman.
These poor people will do anything for attention.” The moment shattered something inside Adoni. She could not hold back the tears. She bent slowly, picked up the bouquet that had slipped from her fingers, and turned around. Only time would tell. Many years ago, in a small, peaceful village called Azure lived a young woman named Aduni.
She was in her earlyenties, kind-hearted and known by everyone in the village for her quiet strength and warm smile. Life had not been easy for her. She got married young to her childhood sweetheart, Sei, a softspoken farmer who loved her deeply, but happiness did not last long. 3 months into her pregnancy, tragedy struck.
Se had gone into the forest to fetch wood and never came back. A tree fell on him and he died. Adoni didn’t care for the rumors. All she knew was that the love of her life was gone. Her pain deepened when her husband’s family turned against her. They came just days after the burial and took everything. The house, the farm, even the small savings say had hidden.
Your husband is dead. What are you still waiting for? They said. Odoni begged and cried, but no one listened. They left her with nothing. Nothing but the unborn child growing in her belly. Adoni had no parents of her own. She was raised by her grandmother, who had died years earlier. Homeless, pregnant, and broken, she wandered the village, unsure of what to do next. Then came hope.
One morning as she sat by the river bank crying, an old fisherman named Baba Tundday noticed her. He had known her grandmother and felt pity for the young helpless widow. Without asking for anything in return, he gave her a basket of fresh fish. “Sell this in the market,” he said gently. “Pay me back when you can.” It was a small gesture, but it changed everything.
Odoni took the fish to the village market that same day. At first, she was shy. She had never sold anything before. But hunger and desperation pushed her forward. She stood by a small corner, calling out to buyers in a soft voice. Fresh fish, please come and buy. Some ignored her, some pied her. But by the end of the day, the basket was empty, and she had made a small profit, enough to buy Gary and a little pepper, enough to eat for a night.
That evening, she returned to Baba Tund’s hut, handed him part of the money, and thanked him with tears in her eyes. From that day on, it became a routine. Every morning, Baba Tundi gave her a basket of fish. Every evening, she returned with his money. As the months passed, she became known in the market as Oduni on meaning Oduni the fish seller.
People admired her dedication, even heavily pregnant, she never missed a day. When she gave birth to a baby girl, she named her Morin, meaning I have found something to cherish. Adoni poured all her love into Morin. She raised her with love and wisdom. They lived in a small one room hut, but to Aduni it was a palace because her daughter was her queen.
Every cobo she earned she saved for Moren’s future. She would go hungry and mended her clothes over and over just to avoid spending on herself. When Moren turned 10 and showed signs of brilliance at school, Odoni started dreaming big. Her child was going to make it. She was going to leave this village, go to the city, become someone great, someone respected.
Moriniki never lacked school fees, even if it meant her mother had to starve. When she wanted new shoes for school, Adoni would quietly cry at night, then work extra days to afford them. “She must not suffer like I did,” she always told herself. “Even if it kills me,” Moriniki’s hard work paid off. She passed her secondary school exams with flying colors.
But the biggest surprise came when a letter arrived. She had won a full scholarship to University of LA, one of the most prestigious schools in the city. My daughter, you made it. She wept tears of joy that night. Not silent tears, loud, thankful cries that shook her small room. She knelt by her mat, raised her hands to heaven, and kept repeating, “Thank you, gods of our land.
Thank you.” Before Moreni left for the city, Odoni gathered her in her arms. Morenik, don’t forget where you come from. I won’t, Mommy, Moreni said, smiling. I promise. Adoni gave her everything she had saved. When the bus left that morning, Adonis stood waving for a long time. At first, things seemed normal. Moroniki called every weekend, sometimes twice.
Her voice carried excitement and wonder. Everything in the city was new. New buildings, new people. Mommy, you won’t believe how big the university is. She laughed on one call. I nearly got lost on my first day. Adoni would smile as she pressed the phone to her ear. Sitting on the mat in their small room, she didn’t always understand the things Morenica described, but she listened with pride.
“I’m happy you’re happy, my dear,” she always replied. But one day during a late night call, Morenik’s tone changed. She sounded unsure, almost small. Mama. Some of the girls here, they are so rich. Their parents drive big cars. They wear designer clothes and carry iPhones I’ve only seen on posters. Some even have their own apartments outside school. Odon’s heart tightened.
It doesn’t matter, Morin. Don’t let that worry you. What they have doesn’t change who you are. I know, Morini said. But sometimes I feel like I don’t belong. They talk about vacations in Dubai.
And when I tell them I am from a village, they just smile strangely. Adoni was quiet for a moment.
Then she said gently, “Never be ashamed of where you come from. Let your results speak for you. You’re smart, Moren. You worked hard to be where you are. That’s your strength.” “Yes, Mommy,” she said. Though her voice didn’t sound so sure, as the semester wore on, the calls started coming less frequently. Odoni noticed. She would sit outside in the evening, phone by her side, hoping it would ring.
When she couldn’t bear the silence anymore, she would call, but the conversations became short. Moren, how are you? I’m fine, Mommy. I’m in a lecture. Can I call you later? But later never came.
When the holidays arrived, Aduni cleaned the house, prepared Morenica’s favorite yam pottage, and even bought two new rappers for her daughter. She waited eagerly.
Moren didn’t come home. She said she got an internship in the city. Odoni didn’t argue. She simply said, “Okay, my child, I understand.” But that night, she sat by the window and cried quietly.
Her daughter was sleeping away and she didn’t know how to hold on. Four years passed faster than Adoni could understand.
She remembered the day Moren got the admission letter, the excitement in her eyes, the tight hug they shared. Now her baby was graduating. One morning Adun’s phone rang. It was Morenik. Mommy, guess what? she said with a small laugh. What is it, my child? Adoni asked, sitting up quickly. My graduation is next week. Adoni let out a gasp.
Hey, I’m so proud of you. Thank you, Moren said. Her voice was soft, distant. It’s going to be a big event. The vice chancellor, ministers, celebrities, everyone will be there. Wow. Ouni breed. I wish I could come and see you walk across that stage. I would scream your name. Morin chuckled lightly. Mommy, there’ll be cameras and all that.
It might be too much for you. Adoni was quiet for a moment. She understood what her daughter was trying to say. Still, she replied gently. I won’t disturb anything. He just sit at the back and smile. Moren didn’t answer immediately. Then she said, “Well, okay. I have to go now.” When the call ended, Aduni sat still for a long time.
Her heart was full. Whether her daughter wanted her there or not, she was going. This was her moment, too. She spent the next 3 days preparing. She went to the market early every morning selling extra fish to save for the journey. She even borrowed a little money from Mama Dupe to buy a nice dress. On the morning of the graduation, she woke before dawn, tied her scarf, and gently wrapped a small bouquet of flowers in a plastic bag.
She had picked them herself yellow hibiscus and white lilies from a neighbor’s garden. By midday, she arrived at the university gates. Everything looked so big and shiny. There were banners, balloons, and cars. Students in bright robes walked proudly with their families. Aduni stood alone for a moment, clutching her flowers, trying to find her daughter in the crowd. Then she saw her, Morenik.
She was beautiful in her black and yellow gown standing with a group of her friends. Her makeup was perfect, her heels tall. She looked like a star. Adoney’s heart swelled. She walked toward her, smiling with tears in her eyes. “Moren, my daughter,” she called, lifting the bouquet. Moren turned. She saw her mother, Odoni was smiling.
But Moren’s face changed, her eyes widened, and then she frowned. “What is this?” she said aloud. Her friends turned to “Get this dirty woman away from me.” Moreniki’s voice rang out over the crowd. “She’s not my mother.” Adoni froze. The flowers slipped from her hand. She stared at her daughter, not understanding.
She had traveled all day just to surprise her child, just to say, “I’m proud of you.” Moreniki, “It’s me, your mother.” Moreniki hissed and turned to her friends. Please don’t mind this woman. These poor people will do anything for attention. Her friends laughed quietly, whispering. Adun’s heart cracked like glass. She bent slowly, picked up the bouquet that had slipped from her fingers, and turned around.
Morenik felt a wave of regret wash over her. She remembered the hurtful words she had spoken to her mother, Adoni, on her graduation day. The prophetess’s words struck a chord, and Morenik knew she had to make amends
Morenik gathered her courage and set out to find her mother. She traveled back to their village, her heart heavy with regret. When she arrived, she found Adoni in her small hut, looking worn and weary
Morenik fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Mother, forgive me,” she begged, her voice shaking. Adoni looked at her daughter, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and love. “My child, I forgave you a long time ago,” she said, her voice soft. “But you need to forgive yourself.”
Adoni opened her arms, and Morenik fell into them, holding her mother tightly. They cried together, and for the first time in years, they talked about their feelings and the past.
With her mother’s forgiveness and love, Morenik’s life began to change. She found a job through a family connection and started rebuilding her life. She and Adoni worked together to rebuild their relationship, and Morenik learned the value of family and humility.
Lessons Learned
Morenik’s journey taught her that success is not just about achievements but also about relationships and values. She realized that her mother’s sacrifices and love were worth appreciating and honoring.
The story concludes with Morenik and Adoni’s reconciliation, highlighting the importance of family, forgiveness, and gratitude.
