Sweet Mother

We no go forget you o.

There’s this highlife track that is a banger, and so ubiquitous, it’s practically the biggest hit in Africa that somehow, somehow, ended up in every corner of this continent, every dance floor, every living room. Sweet Mother. An anthem that Prince Nico Mbarga made in 1976, exactly fifty years ago.

You know…Sweet Mother haunted the hell out of me as a kid. For a child with an off-the-charts imagination like mine, the story of this woman, this mother, that weaved itself around the flow and beats of the music had me shook.

When I dey cry my mother go carry me
She go say my pikin wetin you dey cry yo yo
Stop stop! stop stop! stop stop!
Make you no cry again oo

When i wan sleep my mother go help me
She go lie me well well for bed
She cover me cloth say make you sleep
Sleep sleep my pikin oooo

Listening to these lyrics, I would sit in stunned silence. What? Like…this human being is amazing. How is it that she can uncry her child so easily, or get him to sleep so comfortably? And the “Stop stop!" part of the song, when the band would hit each stop by stopping? Eish! Every time…my heart would stop.

But that’s nothing o. It was this part of the song that for a long time stalked my child soul, as I was always at a loss as to who on earth this person was, this guy was singing her praises to. Who is she? Where?:

When i dey hungry my mother go run up and down
She dey find me something we i go chop
Sweet mother, sweet mother oooo

When i dey sick my mother go cry cry cry
She go say instead wey i go die make she die
She go beg God, God help me, God help me, my pikin oo

If i no sleep, my mother no go sleep
If i no chop, my mother no go chop
She no dey tire ooo
Sweet mother i no go forget dey suffer wey you suffer for me yeh yeh

Hmm! She won’t sleep? She won’t eat? Why would she do that? If the bobo doesn’t want to eat or sleep, why would anyone sacrifice their own sanity just because this useless child was acting like ijaguda?

Of course, the answers to those questions hit me like a twenty-foot tsunami when I slowly and finally figured out who this Nico Mbarga dude was talking about. You know how the big reveal happens in the M. Night Shyamalan movies…think Sixth Sense? Or the Kaiser Soze in the Usual Suspects. That’s how, at some point in my late teens, it occurred to me that this person was right there in front of me.

Mama. All this time, I was digging, looking for this mythical figure out there in the multiverse, doing all these things for her child…and it was my Mama, the constant presence in my life, doing it 5x, or maybe more like x to the fifth (x⁵) with five kids. Carol…she was the powerhouse, the gangster, the force of nature.

And then I was seeing all the Mamas around me. The Sweet Mothers handling their business. My friend’s Mamas. The Mamas teaching me at school. And then my older cousins became Mamas. And then my friends became Mamas. Then my other half became a Mama. And then my sister became a Mama. My younger cousins became Mamas. I was surrounded by Mamas. Mamas in and outside of my universe.

The Powerhouses. The Gangsters. The Forces of Nature.

Happy Mother’s Day, Sweet Mother.

We no go forget una.