Sometime before I was born,
I found myself in some sort of cage,
I wanted to be free and so I kicked sometimes,
Finally after 9 months, my mother brought me forth.

Soon I was one, I still couldn't chew one thing,
I was hungry and I cried sometimes,
But there was this someone who always knew what to do,
There was really no milk as tasty as my mother's.

Like a farmer patiently waiting for it's plant to grow,
She watched my unsteady head night and day,
And who could play when I wanted to play,
Or smile when I giggled, my mother would.

I'm big enough to talk,walk and go to school,
Who would listen to me when I practiced to read,
Who would hold my hands when I wanted to join the dots,
Faster than my tiny legs can, I would run to my mother.

At one point or the other, I fell sick,
For one reason or another, I was weak,
But many a times, I got better,
Because I had someone I could call my mother.

Teenagers are tough or at least that's what everyone says,
But I don't think she sees me that way,
My body is changing, I need to learn to cook,
I'm glad I have a teacher, my mother, my mother.

Like mother, like daughter, I'm about to be a mother,
The least I could do was to give her a grandchild,
Hold your baby with both hands, bathe him with warm water,
This is the way to do it right says my mother.

And so the cycle of life starts all over from the top,
As the egg hatches into a chicken and a chicken lays an egg,
It's my turn to take the baton from her,
Perhaps my mother has done all there is to be done.

She never got paid for wiping my nose,
Or for praying for me to bloom like a rose,
She nurtured me, fought for me and yes she flogged me,
And in ways I can never forget, my mother showered me with love.

This hero, this role model, this teacher,
This angel I love more than words can say,
This woman who sacrificed many a precious moments in her life,
So that I could have them in mine,
Is Mrs Emelda O.N, my mother, my mother.