We were on lockdown last year during Mother’s day. Well, my mum being my mum had already created a Sunday fellowship schedule whereby everyone was given a role to play during the “service;” My mum and dad would take shifts in preaching, my sister would be the service coordinator and I would lead in intercessory and praise. Believe it or not, the service usually lasted for 4 hours, and we were only four people and my two-year-old sister (as if she is not a person, haha). We had that service every Sunday during the whole lockdown season and short prayers on weekdays before retiring to bed. Mum was the admin of sorts and was it not for her I know we would not have pulled this one.
On this particular Sunday, we offered to pray for mom and thank God for her. Each one of us had to say something to God concerning mum and then my dad had to conclude. When dad was in the middle of his prayer, his voice became hoarse and he started crying. I did not expect this from dad, I thought we would just make a simple prayer for mum but as it turned out, my father was taking God down the memory lane and reminding him of what mum had done for us for the last two decades. I have never seen him so emotional in my life, and all this was happening with each memory that crossed his mind. I sort of envied mum, I really wished someone would pray for me like that.
They say that if you want to know if someone is really born again, ask their spouse. Here was my dad giving testimony of my mum to God. Thanking God, for giving him someone that he felt he never deserved. Someone that had the best intentions of the family at heart. Someone that was bold enough to stand up to him when he was wrong and defend him when circumstances called for it. Someone that chose to stay when all situations demanded otherwise. Someone who after some time became his best friend. My father knows that he is loved and above all respected. Her name is Abigail.
Growing up with my kind of mother had its own share of thrill. She would take up a character and stick with it long enough to the point where you actually believe her. She is also shrewd and her mind works really fast, she knows how to make things work for her. She was unique; she never bought me those clothes from Eastleigh, and her reason was that during Christmas all kids will be in those outfits. She said she wanted me to be unique and not with the uniform from Eastleigh. So with that statement, we would go to Gikomba and buy some second-hand mix and match outfits for Christmas. Little did I know that we were actually poor and couldn’t afford the luxury from Eastleigh. I hate the statement people use while referring to poor people_ statements like coming from a humble background are a scam as I have seen proud and egotistical poor individuals. We were poor and mum had a wise way of making me feel special on Christmas. She was also well versed in negotiations and that made us dress well for less. Haaha.
African mothers are the best, well, they can be the worst depending on the side you are in with them at a particular time. At one time they are hiding food for you in the village chamas and calling you every once in a while for refills, yet in other moments they are beating you up to oblivion for mischief. They are sometimes giving you advice and other times they are just being sarcastic about what they are saying. For instance, when mum uses an endearment on me, I know automatically that she is being sarcastic.
We honestly know that they are the ones that call the shots in the home. They are the ones that will incite your dad to beat you up or add you some more pocket money; they even advise you on how to package your speech when asking for something from your father. If you are a boy child then they have a soft spot for you but for the girl, haha, you are always on the wrong somehow and they think your dad is spoiling you. We know she is right, but she is also spoiling her son but we dare not say that.
Mothers are intuitive, they sort of have that third eye that sees everything. She knows when you’re dating or when you’re heartbroken-mine used to actually call me an operator when I was dating because of the many times I was on call outside. She would even joke about the house never having network when I got out to pick specific calls. They know when you are lying about meeting a friend when in reality you’re going out on a date. Sometimes they would let it slide while on other occasions you would actually swear you are an illegitimate child.
Mothers know when dad is about to make a wrong move. Sometimes they would just tell him that that deal is too good to be true and that they should give it a thought. They honestly know when dad won’t listen to her advice and she would take the pressure of being called paranoid and enemy of progress. However, she will still be there to give him the I told you so look when things go south and wonder when he will just listen to her advice.
Most men after some time they start praying that they get to marry women with hearts like that of their mother. Unfortunately, most women today dread to be anything like their mothers. They respect them alright, but they saw the much that they gave in to the family for it to be as it is. Some of us have seen our mothers in abusive relationships and they gave their reasons for not leaving to be the fact that children need a father. Some of us have seen our mothers facing the wrath of inlaws and ended up dreading marriage altogether.
The amazing thing about mothers is that it doesn’t matter how they got to be mothers. Some fell in the hands of hit and run guys who left them before they could spell out “am pregnant.” Others got married and after some time got choked by the whole arrangement and settled with single parenting; others took it upon themselves to stay and build their homes regardless. The bottom line is they do not seize to love their children. Well, they might have quarrels with the man, they might not even see eye to eye, but they do love their children.
I see her and see love personified, I see an aspect of God called love, love unconditional. I see my mum and I know that I am loved and forever will be. I see her and I see a home because her heart can carry so much. I see an intercessor that teaches her kids where true strength is obtained. I see her and am grateful that she chose to build her home with her two hands. I see her and realize that unless the Lord builds a house, those that build do it in vain. I see her and see my Proverbs 31 woman.
Photo by Trust “Tru” Katsande on Unsplash