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I was off Twitter for two straight years. During that period, I lost my younger brother, a senior Mechanical Engineer with one of the car assemble company in Nigeria, and a few months later, my mother’s illness was triggered by his death. When she got sick, we both frequented LASUTH almost every day, while the doctors kept reassuring us that the condition would probably fizzle out naturally. But her health kept deteriorating over the next six months until she was finally admitted. The day she was admitted, seeing her helpless on that hospital bed in a patient’s outfit broke me completely. She kept staring at me and my younger ones while tears rolled endlessly down her cheeks. Yet, she still found the strength to tell us not to abandon one another because, according to her, she saw no medical solution anymore. That same week, I was supposed to defend my Master’s thesis at University of Lagos. She insisted I go, saying she would never want her condition to negatively affect my career. I went to school, and while presenting my project, I suddenly broke down in tears. My supervisor asked what was wrong, and I narrated everything to them. By the time I returned to the hospital that evening, my mother was struggling to breathe and had already been placed on oxygen. I asked, “Why this again, Mum?” She said the medical professionals told her, her pulse was low, she said this while her voice was already shaky. At that moment, I knew my world was crumbling. I cried like a child. I cried my soul out. It got to a point where my mother said she was no longer interested in treatment and wanted to go. She removed the IV lines attached to her body and pulled off the oxygen mask herself. I rushed back to her, held her hands, and begged her while we forcefully fixed everything back. Later, when her siblings arrived while I was outside, she told them not to let us sleep over at the hospital because she was getting better already. My uncle then told me and my siblings to go home, assuring us everything would be under control. I was uncomfortable leaving, but she insisted, and also pretended joking with everyone. That night, I got home with my siblings, but I couldn’t sleep. I just sat on a chair all through, preparing for us to return early the next morning. Exactly 2 a.m., my uncle called and asked when we would be coming back. Immediately, I told him on the phone, “I know my mother is dead.” He replied, “No.” We drove down to the hospital, and the moment I saw everyone standing outside, I said again, “I know my mother is dead.” Then he finally replied, “Yes.” At that moment, I recalled she had forced us to go home because she already knew what she wanted to do. The death of a mother is one of the deepest pains a man can ever experience, a wound that never truly heals. 💔💔💔

I’ve never heard of kidney cancer in my life!!!!! My goodness!!!! Cancer is such a deadly disease!!!!!!! 💔