The soft outcome of the “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” is how Salamatu became a therapist to herself and audience at the closing of part. From a little broken girl, she managed to merge her pieces together, not allowing the cracks to define her.
By Daniel Aôndona
As a poetry reader, I must confess that sometimes, prose doesn’t capture my attention. However, some writers possess an inexplicable power that draws you in, making their work impossible to resist, and of course, Sumaiyah Muhammad is one of those. Her writing has an enthralling charm to which I couldn’t help but proceed with this review.
When I first saw the title, curiosity blossomed in me like asters, wanting to know more, what the ‘five things’ in her story, “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” were. This led me through harsh realities but also offered a gentle touch of hope.
As said by Martin Luther King Jr. “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose hope”. This is precisely why “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” is so impactful, serving as a guiding light for those lost in the darkness of intra-familial conflict.
“Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” by Sumaiyah Muhammad, winner of the African Teen Writers Award, 3rd Edition, takes us on a heartbreaking journey, deep into the difficulties of familial love and the corollary of domestic violence, it as well leads us on a search for peace.
With its rich context, the story has successfully offered a close and clear look, not only at Salamatu, but every child struggling to digest the complexities within their families. Young yet old enough to perceive the smell of something uncertain, especially about her mother, an emotionally drained woman, a wife merely seen as a punching bag.
Something uncertain about her once caring father who had suddenly possessed the heart of a beast. But aren’t even the most feared animals, kind at least to their offspring, to their own? Hence, we may agree that Abubakar, Salamatu’s father, is less humane than a beast.
As we embrace the opening of Sumaiyah’s masterpiece, the storyline already is in its beautiful form with a breathtaking tune. A gentle narrative voice versed in trauma, in worries attached to her mother’s constant and unhindered depression. It is about a 12 year old girl-child afraid of her own father, of whom she has been deprived of love and care.
“Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” begins with a sleek imagery coated in the simile: “Even before she passed away like the sun in a wet season, her life wasn’t tranquil”.
And as you read on, you’ll come to realise that this opening line, brief as it is, encapsulates the entire story. Thus, reading further only serves as a clearer unfolding of events and a deeper journey into the beauty the writer has blended into her piece.
The portrait of the mother as a psychologically tortured woman, and breadwinner of the family is indeed a finger pointing at the ongoing situations in most or certain Nigerian homes, where mothers carry the family’s weight both physically and mentally.
Being the only one available for the children, being the hard worker, the over-thinker, solver of all problems, yet hardly appreciated by fathers who only wear the crown and boast about masculinity, igniting more fear than respect within the household.
Salamatu, the narrator, begins to notice these signs of distress in her mother, also having been a witness to the physical abuse from her father. She knew everything wasn’t right, yet found it more complicated why her mother chose to stay regardless of the chaos.
Could it be that her mother wasn’t strong enough to let go of a relationship which was at the verge of costing her life? This is a question the narrator too has failed to answer, or has failed to understand why. Perhaps the author deliberately left it as a puzzle for us, the readers.
Now, drawing this experience to reality as to why the woman might decide to stay even with the challenges, it remains a common occurrence in our society—even in this century. Despite the fight against domestic violence, the demon still persists. However, most women refuse to leave such men not necessarily because of the love they share, but because of the product of their relationship—the children.
Unlike fathers in some cases, a child happens to be the mother’s first priority. However, I will restrain from using this as a medium to provoke the debate about the depths of a mother’s and father’s love as the case varies in different backgrounds. What is clear, though, is that Sumaiyah’s work reflects on the contradictory nature of strength, particularly in the context of women who endure abuse.
Therefore, back to figuring out why Salamatu’s mother, despite being a strong woman in other ways, was still referred to as ‘not strong enough’ for not letting her husband go.
Here we may agree and at the same time disagree with the narrator for saying: “I only got to realise that my mother, despite her strength, wasn’t strong enough because she was afraid to let him go for reasons I could not fathom”.
As a child, it is understandable that the narrator does not fully understand her mother’s decision. But taking a look from the woman’s perspective as a mother of two, Salamatu and her younger brother, Sadiq, it may be a tough decision for her to make.
Would she rather have left her children in the hands of an irresponsible father who would have obviously given no attention to them? And how were they going to cope without her?
Yet, if she had taken them with her to wherever destiny had in store, they would have remained incomplete without a father figure in their lives. She would not have wanted her children to grow up with low self-esteem among their peers, avoiding conversations about their parents.
These are things a woman is likely to consider—being strong in her own way. Strength; the strength to stay, the strength to endure the war for the sake of her children. But as “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” progresses, it becomes agreeable that the strength was not enough to liberate her from torment. She was wrong after all—her only sin was staying too strong.
The unwillingness to fight for her own peace holds a central theme of the story. This quiet, painful realisation that the mother never learned how to fight for herself serves as a critical turning point in the narrative.
The mother’s silence and acceptance of her woeful marriage leads to a tragic end for her. Even though her death did not come as an immediate result of the maltreatment, it is still clear that the long time suffering had contributed a lot to the early departure.
It is here that the story reveals the difference between endurance and true strength, the ability to stand up for oneself and fight for peace, something the mother never had the opportunity to achieve.
One of the most striking elements in this work of literature is the irony around the narrator, how her life turns out as an antonym to her name; Salamatu—peace—the same peace her mother never learned how to carve into her own body. It is unfortunate, truly unfortunate, how her name was denied to her.
Equally unfortunate is how her riotous father didn’t even bear the physical resemblance of the monster he truly was, as his appearance never matched his character. Another irony—or paradox, preferably—is how the mother, who was unable to provide herself with peace, inadvertently passes this expectation onto her daughter.
How can someone who has never known peace pass it on to someone else? Salamatu’s mother only found peace towards her death, and it was then that her last words were able to fill some empty spaces in her daughter’s heart. The narrator comes to realise that peace cannot be easily won.
The soft outcome of the “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” is how Salamatu became a therapist to herself and audience at the closing of part. From a little broken girl, she managed to merge her pieces together, not allowing the cracks to define her.
This reminds us of Shane Koyczan who had once said, “If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces”. Sumaiyah Muhammad is beautiful and awesome in her art. The skill of connecting the readers with her characters is really appealing. How she made it possible to take us along without a bit of boredom occurring throughout the journey, because what keeps the reader digging more deeper is how interesting a narrative continues to unfold.
Lo and behold, “Five Things Mother Did Not Prepare Me For” could never have been delivered better by any author other than Sumaiyah, this has proven that she is a true master of her craft.
In the end, she has left us with keynotes to meditate on: the pursuit of peace and happiness, and the difference between endurance and true strength. Believe, I say, peace may be elusive and hard-won, it is worth fighting for. And I hope that someday, we all shall find happiness for ourselves, in places, in things, in people best for us.
Daniel Aôndona is a passionate lover of arts and culture. A versatile, award-winning writer who hails from Benue State, Nigeria. Based in Abuja, Daniel is a member of the Hilltop Creative Arts Foundation, an alumni of Sprinng Writers Fellowship, a feature editor at Pawners Paper Magazine, Editor-in-chief of Words-Empire Magazine, and a multifaceted creative—spanning roles as a spoken word artist, essayist, short story writer, reviewer, poet, and literary editor. His works have been featured on notable journals such as: Paper Lanterns, Brittle Paper, The Muse Journal, Words Rhymes & Rhythms, among others within and outside Nigeria. Beyond writing, Daniel is an enthusiast of Literature-in-English and spends much of his time engaging in various creative pursuits. You can connect with him on social media: FB: Daniel Aôndona, IG: @aondonadaniel.30, X: @aondonadaniel30