Hello Mother by Charles Chanchori

I consider myself a very picky person. It is not easy to please me, especially when it comes to literally pieces. I’m a staunch critic and for that reason, I avoid buying books from either writers I know in person or whose names seem new in the market. I like value for my money and there’s nothing more infuriating than spending a whooping ksh 1000 on a book that makes you want to tear every page after you have read it and use them as lining for your cat’s litter box.

I walked into Nuriah shop knowing exactly what I wanted _ I’m that type of girl. A go getter. I wanted a self help book, to hell with what people think about those kind of books. I was in a place in my life where I needed redirection and what does that better than a good old self help book huh?! I remember picking up a pink book with scandalously red hearts that swore to teach me how to be a high value woman. It seemed intriguing up until I got to the section where “Hello Mother” sat.

First, it was the title that caught my eyesight. Or was it because it had been set directly on my eye level? It was love at first sight. I picked it in reverence, as though afraid of what it held and the minute I had it in my hand, I knew I was going home with it. First, it was the uniqueness in it’s cover. They say simplicity is the height of sophistication and boy isn’t this book sophisticated!

All through, I have read it in both greed and anxious dread. Even as I sacrificed my precious sleep time to read one more letter, I kept glancing at the dwindling pages that meant I was soon approaching the end and I did not want the letters to stop coming! May I say that I trauma bounded with the character in all the unhealthy ways. It took me on a trip so emotional and so necessary it left me raw and, surprisingly, open for healing. I believe every adult deserves to write letters to the ghosts in their closet, like Toma did in the book. It may be a practice in futility but if “Hello Mother” has taught me anything, sometimes, we do these seemingly baseless things for ourselves, not for our monsters.

This is a book that was very necessary for me to read and I’d recommend it to a million and one people. The way the writer sticks to reality amazes me. Reading it, you live life in all it’s beauty and ugliness. Unlike most fiction books, “Hello Mother” is not here to kiss your boo boos and help you escape your reality_ no! This book sets up a tea party for you and all your demons and makes you look at all of them in the eyes. Scared much? Oh well, I had to tell you.

If you are going to get it, pass by your favorite supermarket and grab yourself a bottle of the best water and a pack of Kleenex tissues_ you will need them. This is not just a novel, it is a therapy session. I dare you to get to the end of it as you started.

Love,
Betty.