My Mama, Yulian Kizza, died a couple years ago. I want to tell her story so you know that Mother's Day is EVERY day for me! Yulian had her education cut short at 16 to raise a family. But she never stopped learning. Though married to a powerful man, she insisted that her daughters get the education she was denied. Her wisdom and dignity commanded that kind of respect. She was born poor, became wealthy, lost it all - literally. Home gone, money gone, family scattered, imprisoned, dead. She held the threads of my family together and when she died, she left us whole again. She walked with me down a street in a strange country, where she didn't speak the language and said, "This is the place to open your bakery." And so I did.
Webale nyo nyabo. Thank You, Mama I love you.
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