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Re: التحية للمراة الجنوبية عبر هذه الشابة andquot;صورandquot; (Re: Zakaria Joseph)
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Amou Ajang
August 18
Thinking about my mom in the hospital. I wonder what vulnerability feels like for someone who is so used to caring for others. I wish I could know what it feels like to be in her body right now, to have an arm limp over a railing with an IV drip, but to be already thinking about all that needs to be done when I am discharged. What would it be like to own the arms of someone who has gingerly held up others all their life? What would it be like to have callused hands that have been burned and darkened from cooking "kisra" over an open fire since before the age of 12? Or what would it feel like to own the feet of someone who rises at first dawn and rests at midnight in the name of her family?
Right now I wish I could curl up next to her and be Amou the child, instead of Amou the young Adult... Just to let her know she is loved and appreciated.
Mommy, Victoria-Gim Bol Weet, you are beautiful and strong. You’ve taught me not to quit until the job is done, to lean into my books are receive the education you couldn’t, to keep it “cute and classy”. You’ve taught me to turn the other cheek, about integrity and humility. You’ve made the choices so clear and easy.
I love you. I miss you. I am thankful for you. I pray for you. You’ve been my strength for so long. I’m working on being strong for you. One day I will buy you acres and acres of land in Tonj, South Sudan, and build you a modern home (yes, in addition to Baba's in Juba) so you can be what you were always meant to be: a beautiful, simple and kind country girl.
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