‘Being a Mother of Three demands Three Mommies in Me’
By: Chaba Rhuwanya
Tags: Raisingchildren, Motherhood, Mother, Africanmother, Children

As I write my son is watching Cocomelon, we both sing all the songs, we play and do the act; he has me for himself until when my older kids comes from school. My first is in grade seven and second one in a grade five. My husband and I decided to have 7 years gap before we had our last-born. He is now 28 months; we speak babbling and sing ABC.

Three children with this kind of age gap, I have learnt to evolve. I have to change so much. Change in form, shape mood and attitude. When dealing with the older one that is a bit matured and have those hard questions, at same time need to roll on a floor to fit my younger one’s world. While my second born needs more empathy, pushes with homework, my 28 moths old, expect me to bark like a dog, playing a driver — as he loves cars, sometimes we do peekaboo.

I grew up in a very big family; we would have Bibi or Shangazi living with us. The bedtime was exciting; we would enjoy all sort of stories, beautiful stories and some scary zimwi stories. One of the stories was that of two women who went to a Traditional healer and asks for children.

The healer told them that being a mother you have to turn into lunatic and go through madness.

First woman said, if the cost of being a mother is to turn mad, she would rather not.

The second woman said, yes she is willing to have all it takes to be a mother. She was dying to be one — ready to be a lunatic, mad, and eat dust if need be.

So she became.

The first woman eagerly waited to see the second woman turns mad after giving birth. Expecting misbehaviours, going around naked and run with madness in the village, however, that did not happen.

So she went back to a Traditional healer and asks why has she not turned mad?

I have been observing second woman closely, she now has a baby but she is sane. She said, why did you lie to us?

I could have been a mother myself.

The Traditional healer explained that, the madness and lunatic was referring to be what the mother goes through bearing a child.

Once a mother has a new child, she forgets herself and focus on the wellbeing of a child, she sacrifices her happiness, her sleep. Sometimes speaks and sings alone for the baby. When the baby is sick she won’t eat, rest, and she is ready to die for her than anything to harm her baby, if that is not a madness what is it?

That story did not make sense to me then, as it does now.

Motherhood is, sometimes we have no idea what we are doing, some days are better, and some we slide, while other days you just wish it passes by — ‘kesho pia ni siku’

Motherhood style has not been an absolute. Age and context have required me to change within a minute to meet the needs of each, and unfortunately none of them seems to know when to wait for another. Children will never be patient, sigh!

Even interesting is that most mothers of my age are struggling with generations — modernity and traditional; millennial and generation alpha. The English speaking generation being raised by Swahili speaking ones, the clash of civilization is real, who is helping whose homework? . Homework is another day drama we do not talk about it here!

In 2020 while observing quarantine I suddenly became a teacher, a bad one. I had to join a crash course (true story) so that I could support studying from home. I realised Zoom maybe good for meetings but has been a challenge for conducting classes, so I had to take teaching training to meet my children’s teaching needs. Plus I am never patient, I struggled hard. I have grown more respect to teachers.

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I was raised in the era that mama knows best, no question asked to her because it was seen as the most disrespectful thing to question or challenge an elder. While my daughter will be intrigued to ask why mama … I am not expected to say because I say so. I have to sit by her bed and explain slowly how and why and answer all questions despite how painful that process can be, because what I knew and thought is right is not right anymore. I have no idea what I am doing.

I grew up in the time that ‘depression and trauma’ for children were not a common vocabulary, not being heard or said of its existence. Our pains were to be physical not emotional. Today, it is a vice versa. Children have moods and emotional. Motherhood has made me realise that children have feelings, children are people. I have become a fast learner, learning on job, learning hard way, everyday and mostly I learn from my children.

Conservative mothers believe children have to adapt to a motherhood style, while it is a vice versa. It is mothers who have to adapt to a children’s motherhood need. It happens in the same household different children have different feedback of the same motherhood — while one feels was the best, another feels left out, or has a different picture of what happened to them. I now know better, motherhood is not one size fits all; it is adoptive; flexible; influencing; evolving and unconditional.

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As a mother I have learnt parenthood has phases, and seasons too. Sometimes mommies are not good in all seasons. Just like how one is good in maths not in geography so is raising children. A certain age of your child may not be your cup of tea.

I have learnt to be different mother to meet different needs at different times of that same child. It took me to have my third child to realise that. That we are dealing with a whole human being who have their own perspectives despite how little and immature. I have learnt to change myself in order to support and influence change in them.

I have realised, you may be good at a certain age of your child, but definitely not at all ages. There are moments a mother who is ‘good mommy’ at age Zero to Three, struggles when the child is at Four to Eight, or from Nine to fourteen. That’s okay, we are all good mommies even when we feel not good enough. Mothers don’t put your caps down, we must walk tall in heels and no one can tell how many times we have been crying in the dark, or how your toddler was crying, you loose it on and start crying too — this is fun and it is behind the scene. Motherhood is like to work in the dark to serve the light.

When my children were little it was so much fun for me, we built sand castles, make paintings, and publish books.

But now I am trembling, as I do not know how to be a mom of pre-teen. How can I be strict but friendly at the same time?

How are they going to be grounded while managing the emotional and physical changes that is taking place in their growth?

At this stage my traditional background is holding back very tight. How transparent can I be or not? In the rate of one to ten, how much is too much transparent with your child and how much is not. I do not recall openly being taught stuff, there were so little my parent could tell me, most stuff were called taboo.

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Raising children is an art no parent has ever claimed to master. There is no trophy because either the result comes too late or has no key performance indicators.

We are jugglers, evolving, missing and getting it right, working on eggshell, mostly behind the scene and few times on the light.

Just remember to repeat yourself as much as you can. Acha, acha, acha.. they will still go ahead and get hurt. Do not give up. Somehow they will come around like a flash of a light or the morning sunrise and you will be surprised they were listening all along.

Most importantly pay attention, be emotionally and physically present, support your children and listen from their whispers and noises so that you can be able to sort their disorganised thoughts.

You may have one or ten children, just do not, I repeat.. do not compare them. Each child is an individual being that is unique, talented and ought to be loved, respected, understood, and supported as who they are. Each child has own love language, find it. Repeat!

Lets go be all mommies we can be. Do your country a favor and raise that future president, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, authors, with purpose.

Chat later, we got to go for a walk !