What you may know is that my mother bought me my first underwear at thirteen (a milestone I celebrated by putting that thing on and pulling it up to make sure my peers noticed that social promotion-that is once she told me that the tag goes on the back). You also may be aware of how she came to visit me at Kangundo Hospital, where I was admitted suffering from Malaria, and then she removed her shoes and handed them to me-I was 17.
What is astonishing is how much my mother, a sixth-grade dropout, influenced my life-a revelation I am going through since she came to visit my family early this month. It is our first time to see her in eleven years.
Her father's decision to educate sons rather than invest in a daughter who would eventually marry ended mother's future in the academic world. She, however, had acquired an education that would jumpstart my learning experience. Mother used to prepare a small portion of the ground outside the mud structure we called our house and used it as blackboard or writing pad to teach me A-B-Cs, 1-2-3s, and simple words. If there was wind, class was cancelled. If it rained, it was an holiday.
She taught me stories and listened to my childish stories. But in that basic existence, mother passed on to me what I now do in my calling as speaker, writer and seminar leader.
Here are 7 parenting practices I learned from my mother:
Adherence to faith in God-We were a family of witchdoctors and traditional beliefs. My Catholic mother was the only one who never participated in finding out how a pain or the death of a child might be the work of a neighbor with witchcraft powers. In the long run, witchdoctors lost their ground as family members, uncles, and grandparents, one by one, turned to the God of my mother. She prayed for food, even tea, before starting to work, before going to bed, after waking up, and all the time.
Work ethics-One day in 1969 exemplifies mother's commitment to work. My mother was pregnant at the time. She and I spent the day harvesting sweet potatoes, peas and pumpkins. We took those items home and she prepared dinner. After 8 pm, she asked me to escort her to the local hospital's labor ward, where by midnight she gave birth to a son. I never saw my mother idle.
Family was number one-Because of scarcity, we used to have plates, spoons and glasses that we kept for special guests. We children used Calabash or old utensils. At times my mother would cook and serve us with the best utensils and say we were her greatest guests. It was that way with everything she had.
Conflict management-I called my mother "the silent striker." Dad would be like thunder announcing the end of the unfortunate soul or souls that crossed his line. My silent mother kept her cool no matter how threatening the situation seemed, and no matter how much someone needed to tell Dad he was wrong. But after she had a quiet talk with him, one knew by his contrite spirit he had received the message. She used the same silent striking strategy with neighbors and other women with whom she was forced to share her husband.
Minding the poor-I can never recall a day mother was not helping someone in need. We had our meals with strangers and relatives in even worse condition than we were. She was always giving, if not food to the hungry, it was her handbag or clothes to those who wanted to venture beyond our village.
Having a rare kind of hope-There is a hope that can only come where logical reasoning ends. In basic surveys that I conduct in my seminars, I have found that the most feared experience by parents is the death of their child. Mother lost three sons and two daughters. Yet she still has peace of mind and hope for a better tomorrow.
Involvement in community-This aspect needs article of its own. Suffice to say her calling was in being a part of other peoples' lives and finding solution to community challenges.
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