A Mother, A Cry to the Heavens

As a knock sounded—ko, ko, ko—darkness loomed overhead, heavy like a storm refusing to pass. Death whispered closer and closer, its cold fingers reaching where love once held tight. The mother looked at her lifeless child and asked, “What does it cost to have you? To bear you? To watch over you, to see you grow?” Just when hope had begun to bloom—that you would become someone great, that you would give me more children to call me grandmother—you left me stranded, drowning in thoughts: Can I survive this? What if I close my eyes and never wake up, because you, my reason for waking, are already gone? They named you Ayo—joy. You were supposed to bring me peace that passes understanding. But today, I sit here mourning you, thinking about what could have been, what was, and what was meant to be. I replay your last words, the promises you made—"Mommy, I'll see you in the evening. I'm going to make money. I'm going to make you proud." And yet, today, it is death that is proud—beating its chest, boasting, "I took your son." I look at the quality of life I had—civil? Good? I had none. But all I held onto was the life God gave me, the life I begged Him to let you live. Yet, wh