Dr. Risimati Mathye (PhD) Facebook ad: “Eka Manana”

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Eka Manana 💖✨️💖 A Special Letter to My Dr Mama, Today, I choose to celebrate you !!!! In all my life, you were both a father and a mother to me. Your dual role was defined by unconditional love, unwavering support, sacrifice, and relentless prayer. I never felt the absence of a father figure because gratitude and contentment were principles that governed our home. You taught us that what we lacked materially could never define who we were. Growing up, my brothers, sisters, and I were surrounded by poverty and hopelessness was all around us, and nothing seemed possible. Born into a family whose home did not merely have broken walls—it had no walls at all. There was no visible sign of hope or glory. Yet, like Hagar in the wilderness, your difficult circumstances were never a place of abandonment; rather they became your altar of prayer. Mama, the wilderness became your sacred meeting place with God, as you earnestly interceded for us day and night. If poverty was measured on a Likert Scale of 1-10, our family would have ranked among the highest in our community. Against all odds, your worked tirelessly on those local farms. You cleaned people’s homes, washed clothes, and ironed them just to provide for us. Not once did you complain. The community often and secretly spoke ill of you. Whenever you walked towards their homes, they already knew you had probably come to ask for mealie meal, sugar, or salt. Some even closed their doors before you arrived because, in their hearts, they said, “Here she comes again.” Yet, despite all of that, I still vividly remember the picture of you every single night. Like Paul and Silas, you prayed with unwavering faith. I would quietly sit outside our little mud kitchen, which served as your bedroom at night, and listen as you cried before God on our behalf. You wept before God during the night, yet wore a brave face during the day. To this day, I still do not know how we survived—but we did through God. Mhani, we survived because you never stopped believing that God would make a way. As your last born child, my greatest memory of you is not simply your love— but more a life of prayer and complete dependence on God. If I remove you from my story, then I remove the very reason I am here today. May God continue to preserve you so that you may witness even more of the glory God has brought into our lives. I still remember us sitting beneath the mango tree outside our two mud houses. You would often say to me: “God will see you through nw'anaga (my son), because our upbringing and your current situation have no relation to what still lies ahead.”🙏🙏 Those words were difficult to believe because, at the time, there was literally nothing around us that suggested a brighter future. There was nothing to hold onto except your faith and the promises of God. I know what it feels like to go to bed hungry. I know what poverty smells like. I know what it feels like, to wake up every morning with seemingly no hope. Yet through it all, you taught me to pray. You taught me humility. You despised pride and arrogance and constantly reminded us that character matters more than possessions. Well, as a loving mother, you were never lenient with me. You were firm, disciplined, and sometimes the slaps I received made me wonder whether you loved me or not. They felt like punishment, yet when I look back today in time, I smile because I realise those moments shaped me into what I am, because they kept me on the right path. Now, years later, after decades of sacrificing for us, your health began to fail. You spent countless days in hospital, yet God preserved your life as a testimony of His faithfulness. As I reflect on where I come from compared to where I am today, I can say with complete confidence that your prayers sustained me and continue to do so. You saw a future I could not see.You believed in a dream I did not yet have. You constantly reminded me that only God could change my life—and yes He did. Mama, I may not yet be everything I aspire to become, but I am content. My heart overflows with gratitude. Today, I have the privilege of travelling the world, meeting global leaders, engaging with heads of state, and proudly representing our country. Yet, no matter where life takes me, I never forget those midnight prayers that echoed through our humble home. Those prayers became my inheritance. You taught me not only how to pray but how to trust God completely. Whatever honour people see in my life today belongs first to God—and then to you. There were days when there was not enough food for everyone, but you would choose to go hungry that I could eat, study, and attend school. That is a debt no child can ever repay. So, to those who partially believe they know your son or claim to have contributed to the person be has become, I sincerely hereby introduce them to my Dr Mama, because If only they knew where I come from 🤔, because behind the polished photographs, the tailored suits, the international travels, and the public platforms stands I now experience, stands a single black woman who entrusted her son’s future entirely to God. A woman who believed, through unwavering faith and relentless prayer, that one day hope would rise for her family. Today, I claim no status. I claim no success. I claim no pride. I claim no arrogance. Today, I simply celebrate my mother. The world 🌎 may celebrate the people we have since become, but it rarely knows the roads our parents walked so that we could get here. To every person or parents reading this: Never stop taking your children to God in prayer. ●He (God) is able. ●He is willing. ●He is more than capable of rewriting every story the world has already written off. ❦ Ndza Mirhandza Mhana Mina. My Dr Mama. Manana wa Nkota. #thetriumphantmind #motherslove #life #faith

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