Tribute to Single Mothers It is easy to harp every week on what I think is wrong with women. This, undoubtedly, gives the wrong impression that my relationship with women is defined by cynicism. Actually, I respect and admire women. Like young, single, and “disadvantaged” mothers. I have enormous respect for single mothers. Not the ones who shove it in your face as if it is a handicap. Not the scandalous ones who use children as pawns to fight the men involved. And certainly not the ones who adopt children as a social statement, as if they are the final accessory in their very social, very public lives. No, I am talking about the silent single mother. The one who refuses to be a victim. The one who trudges on stoically, undeterred and unmoved by every barb that life throws at her. And they are in every corner of this country, young women in their 20s who found themselves single mothers because either the men left or they left. I am talking about the young mothers who work at jobs that pay them a pittance. And with this pittance they pay rent, buy food and diapers, pay the maid, and get themselves to and from work. They cannot remember the last time they bought themselves a new dress or a pair of shoes because there is always a pending bill to be paid. They cannot remember the last time they sat in a bar to have a drink because they are either rushing home or rushing to work. And when they are not doing either, they are raising a child or children. And when they put their heads on a pillow to sleep, their dreams are filled with inadequacy. They long stopped bothering with the fathers of their children because they realised that it only slows them down emotionally. So they moved on. They do not think of themselves as victims. They never whine about their disadvantage. And when they cry, they cry in darkness. They tuck their disappointments in little pouches that do not see the sun. Their dreams live only through their children. And they try to raise these children in the best way their circumstances allow. Sometimes they go about it the right way and sometimes they go about it the wrong way, but unlike the absent fathers, they are there to do it. And they do not take a holiday off raising these children because theirs (motherhood) is a “profession” without holidays or time off. Motherhood does not have leave application forms. The Lord is faithful Sh30,000 does not do much in this town. But there are women who raise sound children on that amount. The children dress up and go to school and never sleep hungry. They get by. They get through life by borrowing. They get by, joining numerous saccos and chamas from which they borrow. Medical cover is a phrase they have never heard of. But the Lord is faithful because He looks after his own. He comes through because these women have learnt to pray and ask for help. And God does not forsake them. Better than the rest The most amazing thing about these women is that they look normal in the streets. They do not look besieged with financial problems. They do not view raising these children alone as a handicap. Motherhood is an honour for them, otherwise they would have taken the children and dumped them in the man’s office. But they do not because the universe is a vindictive woman and it has a way of levelling out, eventually. I know many well-adjusted folks who were raised by single women. Many. Folks who were schooled through their mother’s engagement in illicit brews, charcoal burning, farming, teaching, small trade, loan after loan… But they emerged from the tunnel sound, maybe even better than most of us. This is a tribute to these women. Your strengths are Goliathan and the lessons that live through you should be entombed. If your mother is one of these women, make her efforts worthwhile. It will make sense of her struggles. And to all these women who long forgot what their dreams were because they are busy making their children’s dreams come true, I tip my hat to you. Chin up and keep going#stolen#
Posted on: Sat, 24 Aug 2013 11:44:35 +0000
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