My father married a mad woman. He was caught sleeping with her and the elders punished him. Weeks later, the mad woman was pregnant and villagers said my father was responsible. After much friction, my father was married to the mad woman. After nine months, she was taken to a midwife on the outskirt of town, where I was born. I never liked my mother. I always distanced myself from her. Whenever father left for market, he'll tell me to look after her. But I didn't, I'll rather sit outside and play alone. I was often mocked and jeered at school for being the son of a mad woman. And often, she'll be seen at the market square walking and talking to herself, or beside the gutter washing her feet. Sometimes, she would be at a waste bin picking out rubbish. I used to cry in my room and ask God why he gave me a mad woman for a mother, but others had sane and well to do mothers. I grew to hate her more and more because she stank, always dirtied her clothes and ate food with both hands, instead of Cutleries. When I turned nineteen, I left the village to be with my aunt in the City. Over there, my Aunt got me a job through one of her friends. I worked as a waiter and within Months I was able to save much before December. I wanted to live and feel big when I returned to the village, so they'll not see me as the local boy or the poor son of a trader whose mother was a mad woman. When I finally came to the village, it was the Christmas period. I used a bushy track behind the market square. It was evening, my heart was heating up with excitement, as I wanted to show everyone I had made it big. I met my mother from afar sitting on a patch of grass in tattered clothes! I didn't want to meet her, nor want her to meet me. I didn't want to hug her damp and smelly body. I didn't want to see her lank short and drab brown hair. I turned, immediately and all of the sudden people brushed past me, pushing me on the floor. I was brushing off the sand and dirt where a feminine voice shouted. " Come and catch him o, onye oshi! Onye oshi!" Before I knew what was amiss, a firm hand grabbed my trousers by the waist. People suddenly appeared with sticks and matches, others carried whips. I was descended upon. Nobody wanted to hear me out. Nobody wanted to know if I was innocent. The whip landed on my back, the cane added, the matchet slammed on my buttocks. I was screaming, crying pleading but all paid deaf ears. " Finish him, thief, shameless theif, fine boy like you!" A woman said landing slaps on my face. Within a blink I felt liquid spilled over my body.... It was petrol! I screamed the more. " In your next life you'll never steal people's things... Thief!" The man that spilled me petrol said. I suddenly felt helpless. I regretted my journey to the village. I hadn't even seen my father and now the man was calling out for match stick or lighter. I was drenched in tears and blood from bleeding. I didn't know myself– all I knew was to beg for my life. A boy was approaching with lighter when a coconut branch landed on him and soon on everyone. There was a stampede. " Mad people! Bloodthirsty demons! Leave my son o." A woman said in Igbo. It was my mother, she ran to shield me immediately. She was crying as she saw my wounds that bled and the tears that soaked my face. " Ndo, ndo." Was all she could say and lifted me up gently. The villagers never knew I was the mad woman's son who travelled a long time ago. They all thought I was the thief that stole from a market woman's shop. Where it not for my mother, I'd be dead. I never loved her but she saved my life. A mother's love never dies 100 VIEWS AND EPISODE 2 DROP TOMORROW 🤲🔥