Ada's Village Diaries

My sweet little princess,

Today you turn three, and my heart overflows with gratitude to God for the precious gift of you. From the very first moment I held you, I knew my life had been forever changed by a love so deep and so pure. You are the sunshine in my mornings and the peace in my nights.
I pray over you today, my beautiful daughter. May God’s hand always rest gently upon your life. May He guide your tiny steps, protect your gentle heart, and fill your days with laughter that never runs dry. I pray that wherever you go, favor will speak for you, joy will surround you, and goodness will follow you all the days of your life.
May you grow in wisdom, in kindness, and in grace. May your dreams be big, your smile never fade, and your light never be dimmed by this world.
Happy 3rd birthday, my forever baby. You are the best daughter any mother could ever pray for, and loving you is my greatest blessing. Amen. 💕

The house was full for the funeral — and empty after.

When MMA’s mother was alive, their compound was never quiet. Neighbors came for advice. Children came for food. Laughter lived in the walls.
The day her mother was buried, the entire village gathered. Songs were sung. Tears were shared.
For a moment, MMA didn’t feel alone.
But three days later, everyone returned to their lives.
The compound became silent.
The cooking fire no longer burned at dawn. No soft humming of morning prayers. No gentle knock on her door.
MMA sat in the courtyard at sunset, staring at the space where her mother used to sit.
Grief in the village is loud at first.
Then it becomes a quiet companion you carry alone.
Some absences never stop echoing.