TRIBUTE TO MY BIG MOMMA (and all mommas in the world)

Today, I’m going to tell you a story of my best friend and I.

We were neither from the same high school nor the same neighbourhood. But fate has brought us together 25 years ago. I couldn’t remember where I came from but the moment my eyes lit, all I saw was this beautiful angel. She was smiling from ears to ears just by looking at me. I was afraid initially; “Where’s this place?”, “Who are you?”, etc... A million of questions pondered through my mind. She was affectionate but crying was what I did best. I was no doubt her bundle of joy. She took care (and still takes care) of me like I’m a precious jewel. Having me around is the best thing that she had ever experienced in her entire life; that’s what I’ve been told all the time.

My best friend at age 23

My two best friends

Her bundle of JOY

Her precious jewel

Yours truly was a tiny baby

At the age of 1, I was proven a “lazy” kid. Unlike my peers who could already make steady moves, I struggled to make little steps. I crawled places and met sinister faces. I enjoyed crawling so much that I thought that was the nature of human mobility. My best friend was hurt deeply by people remarks that I’m unlike normal child. Yet, she had faith in me and brushed them off by saying that I just needed a little more time. When everyone gave up on me, my best friend never did. Her perseverance paid off when I could stand on my feet at the age of 3. She was screaming in joy and running around sharing the news with everyone in the neighbourhood.

Yours truly with her best friend at the age of 1

Yours truly first ever car ride

A happy baby I was...

She brought me to all places

Our home

When I was 5, going to the kindergarten was what I hated most. I cried so hard that I threw up practically every morning. I thought by doing this, my best friend would not bring me to that place. I was wrong. She had a different approach and she always knew best. If I needed to be sitting in the classroom for 5 hours a day, my best friend would be standing outside the classroom for 5 hours as well. Each time I felt awkward and on the verge of crying, I just had to turn around and looked through the window, my best friend would be waiving at me. Sometimes, she would show me the Happy Meal box in her hand and I would be anticipating for lunch happily.

My best friend was of African origin *hint: hairstyle*

We were(are) both photogenic ^^

My fair angel

Of all subjects in school, I had no particular preference except for art. Colouring was what I enjoyed doing. On weekends, my best friend would bring me to the mall and get many, many, many boxes of colour pencils: from Luna to Colleen to the no-brand colours.  I couldn’t wait to go home and do fun colouring with her! I enjoyed colouring green or purple on faces and she would laugh at my child-like innocent.

Our friendship blossomed at each passing day. However, one day at the age of 6, I was told that we were had to be separated for some time. I couldn’t understand why she would have to stay at the white building and her tummy was swollen like a gigantic snowball. All she told me was that I’d have a new friend to play with. I cried so hard because I didn’t want anyone else, I only need her.

When she finally brought home a new friend, I became even more rebellious than I already was. I was envious at the bond they shared at such a short span of time compared to the years that we had. We spent less time together. An “uncle” with thick moustache took over her role as my best friend. This man was a butcher. I remember waking up at 4 am every morning and followed him to the market. He’d be busy serving the customers while I’d be playing with whatever toy I brought along that day until he finished his job.

I'm the one in black pants, with my cousins

To be continued