A mother's patience

e beating sun casting long shadows across the dusty courtyard. They had come from

ound at the circle of women, her eyes betraying

the weight of experience. "We are here today to share our stori

with a baby strapped to her back, her eyes darting nervously around the roo

usband and I have been trying for a child for many years, without succes

ied, her tone gentle but firm. "Motherhood is a gift

ldren, all boys. They are the joy of my life, but sometimes I feel like I am drowning in th

Bimpe," said another woman,

married for many years, but my husband left me when I could not give him a

Ayodele assured her, reaching out

ly on women?" asked Yemi, her voice wavering slightly.

ent, their faces etched with

must not allow ourselves to be defined by the expectations of others. We must fi

their eyes brimming

dele continued, her voice rising with conviction. "To speak o

the women began to share more openl

isha, her eyes blazing with emotion. "It is hard, and it is

g without a child," said Ngozi, her voice fierce w

to realize the power of their collective voic

in solidarity. "We are tired of being silenced by tradition, by patriarchy, by a so

heir eyes gleaming w

men's courage, stood up and spoke

as mothers, to bear witness to our struggles and our joys, to tell our st

houting in agreement, the sound of their voic

e women left the community center that day with newfound stre

the streets of Ile-Ife, but its golden light refl

ourney that would lead them into the depths of th