Growing up with a single mum in a town called "Sagamu" in Ogun State was a defining part of my life. My mum had to carry the weight of raising five children almost entirely on her own, but thankfully,i was the last child and most of my siblings were already grown up by the time my dad left. Even though they were able to help in some ways, it was still tough for her. My dad left right after I was born, choosing to marry another woman, and from then on, he was practically absent from my life. I didn’t even see him until I was 11 years old at a burial ceremony, so there was never really a father figure for me growing up.
Because of that, I never built a bond with my dad. He wasn’t there for me—he didn’t raise me, didn’t support me, and didn’t contribute much to my life, even though he’s my biological father. If I were to find out today that he’s not actually my biological father, I wouldn’t be upset at all. In fact, I’d probably be happy—maybe even relieved—because, to be honest, there’s no real relationship there. I wouldn’t feel any sadness or loss because I never had anything to lose in the first place.
But when it comes to my mum, the story would be completely different. If I found out that she isn’t my biological mother, I don’t even know how I’d react at first. I’d be devastated. Imagine living for 21 years with someone, calling them "mum," and then finding out she’s not the person who gave birth to you. It would feel like my entire world had been turned upside down, like everything I thought I knew about my life had been a lie. It’s hard to imagine something more shocking than that.
I’d be in denial at first—I’d probably think it was just some kind of nightmare. The woman who has loved me, cared for me, sacrificed so much for me, isn’t my biological mother? How could that even be true? She’s the one who’s paying my private university fees, the one who raised me to be the person I am today. There’s no way I could easily accept something like that. It would feel like too much to process at once.
I also believe that no matter the circumstances, letting go of your child is never an easy decision. I get that sometimes people make difficult choices—maybe they weren’t ready to raise a child, or they didn’t have the resources to take care of one. But no matter what, I don’t think anything can fully justify giving up a child you carried for nine months. It just feels too heavy, too irreversible. I’d want to know why. Why would my biological parents give me up? Were they alive? Were they in a situation where they couldn’t keep me, or was it something else entirely?
If I ever found out that my real parents are still alive, I’d want to meet them, not because I’d necessarily want them in my life but because I’d want answers. I’d want to know why they made the decision to give me up, why they let someone else raise me. But no matter what their reasons were, it wouldn’t change how I feel about the woman who raised me. My mum, biological or not, will always be the woman I call "mother."
She’s the one who’s been there for me through thick and thin, the one who gave me the love, support, and care I needed. For that, I’ll always be indebted to her. I’ll always see her as my true mother, the one who actually shaped my life. Blood might connect people, but it's the love and care you receive that truly make someone family. So, even if I found out she’s not the woman who gave birth to me, nothing would change in my heart. She’d still be the mum I’ve always known and the only one I’ll ever call my mother.
I believe family isn’t just about blood but rather about the bonds we form through love, sacrifice, and shared experiences. And no matter what, my mum is my family—the person who stood by me and made me who I am today. Nothing could ever change that for me.