Those words hit me like a truck: real family. They brought me back to a day when I was a kid and I had asked Peggy what the word bastard meant. She told me it mean 'illegitimate, like not real.' It has seemed like a toothless insult. But now I understood where the word had bite: if you are not real, you can be dismissed, erased, forgotten. It means the you don't matter. Mary Anna King, Bastards: A Memoir
Weeds are illegitimate plants, the bastards of the plant world. No one wants them, no one needs them, but they thrive regardless. Irrespective of how sharp your hoe or how curved your sabre, they’d still grow and bloom after a short time. But why do we still call them bastards?
It is said that when a bastard is born. The rays of sunshine are the brightest. It radiates all the heat from the world to the child that was born without a father. The greatest sin to be committed is to be paid, out of wedlock, to a father who would never accept your existence or one who would be ashamed of your presence. For me, it was different. I knew my father, he knew me, but he never looked at my side, not even for any second.
Mother had told me that he had been a sweet, kind man once. He had promised her the moon, stars and the entire universe. All these were words he sharpened and sweetened before he parted her legs. They had committed a grave sin under the guise of love. It was love for her, but it was lust for him. He had a wife, children and a family. He was respected in the community, unlike her. So no one believed her when the seed of the sin began to germinate. Instead, they called the seed a weed and said it grew unwanted. But she knew that this child wasn’t a weed, but an ideal plant, one so beautiful that when bloomed sprouted wonderful scented flowers and delicious fruits. But only she knew that no one else did, his accusing fingers damned her, and what was confused as love once became hatred.
Mother worked hard to make sure I never lacked anything. If the legitimate children of my father wore their best clothes, mother made sure I wore mine too. If I ever was bullied and insulted, she made sure to teach me how to fight back and fought for me, defending me. She was my guardian angel. Whenever I requested to know or see my father, mother would look me in the eye and tell me she was both my father and mother. My teenage mind couldn’t comprehend the dynamics of biology. How could a mother be a father and be 2 in 1? But I grew up with such notions enshrined into my mind.
Every day I worked hard to make a mother proud. I was sure to become first in everything I did. And it wasn’t surprising that I won several scholarships, which made my education a bit easier for my mother. I made sure to succeed. Till I became successful and pulled my mother out of the unwanted place. We went where we were valued and loved, living our days in plenty and blessings. Life was good.
Till someday, when I got a call from a stranger asking for my help. Father had been sick, and he needed a donor. All his kids and relatives weren’t a match. He had no other option except me. Mother disagreed. She resisted. Father and his relatives pleaded. So I succumbed, went for the tests against my mother’s wishes.
I was a match with my father. For the first time in more than three decades, I heard my father call me Son. I knew he needed something. He needed me. He needed my organ. My step-siblings are all begging. Only a few days ago was I finally acknowledged, I was no longer illegitimate. I was no longer unwanted. I went to mother and asked her what I could do. She gripped my hands. For the first time since I could remember, I saw the light in my mother’s eyes. She told me, her voice breaking, "Son, do whatever you have to do, only if you think he deserves it.” And with those words, I visited the hospital, saw the father and told him I wasn’t going to spare my organ for him, and prayed for him. My parting words were, "Even weeds are plants.” That was the last time I saw him alive.
Even weeds are plants. They considered the weed a plant when they knew it would be useful. Well done Tolu.