Media personality Nana Owiti has shared an emotional tribute to her late mother, opening up about the lasting impact of loss and the responsibilities she shouldered after her mother’s death.
In a deeply personal post shared on social media, Owiti marked the anniversary of her mother’s passing by reflecting on childhood memories, the pain of grief and the resilience that carried her and her younger sister into adulthood.
“I’m writing this because on this day many moons ago my mother forgot to breathe,” she began, setting the tone for a tribute that resonated with many of her followers.
Owiti described her mother as a woman whose presence filled every room. She remembered her as a “6’0 gentle giant” with a radiant smile accentuated by a silver premolar and a laugh so infectious that it could “bully sadness out of a room.”
“She lived loudly, loved boldly and spread her wings like gravity simply didn’t apply to her,” she wrote.
The media personality then recounted the devastating moment her mother passed away, revealing that she was by her side during her final moments.
“When she took her last breath I was there. Just like she was there when I took my first,” she shared.
With her mother gone, Owiti said she found herself stepping into responsibilities far beyond her years.
“She left behind two girls… my little sister and I. Overnight I became more than an older sister. I became a comforter, a school fees payer, a protector… a child trying to raise another child.”
Despite the enormous weight she carried, she injected a touch of humour into the memory, joking that she deserved “at least a certificate” for navigating such responsibilities at such a young age.
Looking back, Owiti likened her mother’s passing to a relay race in which life unexpectedly handed her the baton.
“Sometimes I think life quietly passed me a relay baton. She let go and somehow I had to start running.”
Years later, that difficult journey has taken both sisters far beyond what they once imagined. Reflecting on their childhood, she admitted neither of them could have envisioned how their lives would unfold.
“If you had told those two frightened little girls that one day they’d build lives across continents, we’d probably have laughed through our tears.”
She added that she hopes her mother is watching over them with pride.
“I hope wherever she is she’s smiling and saying, ‘Those are my girls.'”
She revealed that she has recently been photographing old family albums, describing every faded image as “borrowed time.”
“If heaven had visiting hours, I’d spend them taking selfies with her. I wouldn’t have blurry prints. I’d be telling her all the gossip she has missed,” she wrote.
Owiti concluded her tribute with a powerful reflection on grief, challenging the widely held belief that time heals emotional wounds.
“They say time heals. I disagree. Time doesn’t heal. It just teaches you how to carry grief with better posture.”
She described grief as something that quietly waits in everyday moments before unexpectedly resurfacing.
“The tears don’t stop; they just become more polite. They wait until you’re driving alone, folding laundry or hearing a song she would’ve loved.”
Owiti also likened grief to an uninvited guest that occasionally barges back into life.
“Some days grief whispers. Other days it kicks the door down, sits on your couch uninvited and asks why you’ve stopped talking about her. And somehow… you make it tea.”
She ended her message with a poignant reminder that loss evolves but never truly fades.
“Years later… I don’t miss her less. I just miss her differently.”
