Have i done a thing?

Dear Courage,

You and I must meet this week.
It might be on a random drive,
Taking that long thought of journey to some place where i can make the jump
Saying yes to the things I have said no to
Leaving the things that I have held on to when they do not mean much anymore

I must, this week, meet you
I have climbed no mountains,
Run no significant races,
Taken no significant risks,
I feel now that I am drowning in my own comfort

It must be something that will shake the dead weight off
I cannot for the life of me, think of a thing just now
Maybe, my journey will start with saying No
To the things I agree to do that i shouldn't
Or to having conversations that will change my path

If I meet you courage,
Be kind, but then, be true
Do not fail me, but allow me to stand on my feet
Because just now, i suspect, i live so meek and full of apology
I wonder if i am living right

Should i die tomorrow,
If they were honest, they might wonder
What, besides being good, can we say about her?
Good really is a thing you can never own
It is the definition of every dead man. He was good, So was she
What is my thing i wonder?

Courage however, should not mean stupid, right? Or should it?

Blood on the lip

We're curious human beings, that we are, us mothers. We will find out what it is that it is even when, there have been no clues strewn about.

11pm, I have no business staring and inspecting every inch. I do not do it every night but, today, I feel I should. I tell you, the thing they say about a mother's sixth sense is true. So I turn the feet then turn the toes then move on until I make my way to his little face. Eyes half closed....the sleep of the rebel. Eyes closed mostly but with a hint of watchfulness. Like, you forced me to sleep, but in a few, I shall be on my feet.

I immediately see the stain on the mouth. A quick super fast tracked calculation on my part reveals I have bought no beetroot, strawberries or any such red fruit or baby safe red food. Why is his mouth red. That is not the stain of Miranda fruity. That, I think to myself, is the stain of blood. But he is breathing well, not like he cried a storm. No one mentioned it too. Could I simply be imagining things?

So I do the thing that I suspect every mother would do. I taste it. There it is, the faint taste of metal and whatnot that I relate to blood. Why is my baby bleeding? Well, he isn't anymore as the blood has dried and he is fast asleep but he was! And nobody told me about it!

So I match back into the room and quietly and calmly ask...what did he eat for supper? Because really, I must be imagining the blood. Why does he have blood on his mouth? Why was he bleeding? Why didn't anybody tell me?

I am not hysterical. I am keeping It together. But for the hundredth time, I am wondering about my options. I am wondering if I cannot give up this job to stay home and watch him. It is not practical. I am a single mother, I have no other income source but this one that draws me from home every morning and brings me back when he is fast asleep. It is worth it...no, it is not. But it must be done for now. He must eat. And so must I.

It was a little accident.

Little enough that no one saw reason to tell me about it. Have there been more little accidents? What else? How much more are you hiding? What else have you forgotten? He is my son you know. He is all I have. Tell me. I want to know. I want to protect him more than I want to pour my anger on you.

Aaaaahhh Bear

The true test of our friendship lies in the hour of need.

I sit in the dark in my hour and wonder, who do I call to tell?

Who will understand my pain and not just say sorry but respond as one who has known how to handle me in my fragile moments?

Another night awake
Another night mind alert
To tunes and phrases whispered years ago
I remember the warmth of friendship
The fragrance of kindness
And the language of love

This would have been another time to cement a friendship that we thought so important years ago but dropped in a moment

I had an inkling
I remember as I got out of the car today and saw the collars JMV gave me two days ago
I thought to myself...I have never taken them out of the car
And something shifted, I had the strangest feeling that Bear wouldn't need the collars

And he won't.
I guess he was never meant to stay.
He has gone where they all go.

All dogs go to heaven.

When he crawls to the kitchen door looking for you tomorrow, the next day and the next, smiling, laughing and shouting aaaaahhhh!! Aaaaaahhhh!! What shall I do? What shall I say? I suppose I will cry because my tears are never far with these things! Well Bear-Aaahhh, you made my boy happy. I thank you. The last two days were horrible for you. I guess you had to sign out. We miss you.

Goodbye Aaaaahhh.
Goodbye Sparksy
Goodbye Neighbor

Goodbye Bear.

A compilation - Let's Talk Menstruation

I was online this morning, reading about this and that and somehow, my mind got focused on menstruation. 

Because I sit in a large shared office, I started to look at the men who make up the biggest percentage of the people around me. I thought to myself, “What goes through their minds when women are talking menstruation, buying sanitary towels and running to the bathroom in numbers to deal with a soiled skirt or dress.” 

This is a compilation of the thoughts of both the men and women around me.

This was the question to the men:

When the women around you are talking about Menstruation/Periods - What goes through your mind? Is this something you ever think about? Does it concern you at all?

The Answers:

Julian: There is an app for men to download to monitor their partners cycles, they should download it. I wish men understood more about periods, what they are about and why they happen. If you understand your partners cycle, and everything that surrounds periods, you are better equipped to know about timing in relation to starting a family. 

Bernard: It is about negotiation. Do you talk to each other? Before you make your demands for sex, do you know if it is the right time for her? For the young girls, it is mostly awareness, cleanliness and teaching them to understand what it all means. Periods are an opportunity for a man to understand his woman better.

Raymond: Many times the way menstruation matters are presented is disgusting to the male audience. I personally don’t like to have the conversation because i feel like i am prying into someone’s private life. It is like an open secret, a public private thing, if that makes sense.

Dan: I don’t think that i understand menstruation matters. What women go through, i really don’t understand.

Derrick: What comes to mind is “That time of the month”. A time when a girl needs support whether you know it or not. You can tell from the changes, mood swings and all.

Sam: Blood, Pain, discomfort. Many men distance themselves from it and those who try ask women but women don't want to discuss it so there is that information gap. I have understood it because i have asked and pressed and been explained to.

Emmanuel: There is the stereotype that women get moody. Men should be understanding because it's a natural process that must happen.

Peter K: When a woman says she is in her periods, first of all, i think about it as a loss. Because i have to to wait since for all those days nothing will happen. Some women don't like the feeling of feeling dirty. My friends tell me that their women get moody. I think thats the time the husband should be there for them. Other men use the time of a woman’s period to go and cheat.

Shawn: (As soon as i mention what i want to talk to him about, he starts muttering under his breath, i hear him say...”This is a suicide attack, i can’t imagine i am going to be quoted”) I think it’s painful, I sympathize with someone having to go through it every month! I don’t understand it as a man but i offer support. I had to learn that the hard way. What i do not like are the emotions that come with it. In fact, if a girl says she is in her periods, first thing that comes to mind is to run because periods means mood swings and poor hygiene. And, if she says her periods are painful, i think she is not sporty and she is lazy. If they are not painful, then i know she is an active girl and she feeds right.

Isaac: I see a suffering Woman who needs help. I feel that pain with her.

Miles: Ideally i don't want to pay much attention to the subject because i can’t help my daughter much in that area. That subject should be for the girl's mother. I can't even imagine it. I don't even want to imagine it.

Kafuko: Something painful. it is partly my business to know about it but i am reluctant to learn about it because it doesn't directly affect me.

Urban Brian: To me, you are sick because i naturally fear blood. I imagine what you are passing through and because you are fragile so i have to be careful about the mood swings. I cant help in any way because it is a ladies issue, i can't interrupt but i will be there to help when you need me.

Joel K: I feel men shouldn't be disgusted. They need to understand what women go through. I grew up with sisters so i had to understand. It is basic knowledge and we all must understand it regardless of whether we are male or female. It is just common sense. (And then he went on giving detail after detail until Hatma who was listening, asked if he was consulting google.) 

Benjamin: (As soon as I broached the subject, he started sweating and shaking his head.) I think it makes women uncomfortable. I feel sorry for them. I know about it, that it can strike when you least expect, that you always have to carry a sanitary towel with you. It is important for every man to know about menstruation because sooner or later, you will have to deal with it. Women however shouldn't lie to their bosses to get a day off. But what goes through our minds, most of us men, is that “this week, i am not going to have any.”

Nicholas: Aaaaaaahhh, we cant talk about such things! It is a taboo subject. It is too deep into girl talk. (He says all this while fidgeting to switch on a computer that is already on. This topic makes people nervous.)

Mukasa: I have a ten year old daughter. I realised that i have to do things differently. I am scared because periods mean babies. She can have a child with a child because of the high sexual awareness among children lately. Men need to talk about menstruation matters because we all need to understand how to broach the subject to prepare the child. 

Frank: It concerns us all. I have sisters, a daughter. We should not disregard it just because we are men. If there is a campaign to keep girls in school, we should all join it. Boys should be taught about menstruation too so that they can understand and not laugh but help when a girls dress or skirt gets stained.

Aaron: It is nature. We have to accept it. I know single fathers raising daughters. You have to have answers to their questions.

Joel S: I would want to understand it all but the ladies i have spoken to are very cagey about it. All i hear is that it is monthly and it is painful. I have done some reading about it but there is a difference between reading and hearing someone tell me about it. 

Peter M-  Men forget that someone’s state can affect their behavior. It means for me that this is the time to be there for a woman and help her feel more comfortable and remind her that it is just temporary. Men need to be supportive. You do not understand the magnitude of it on a woman. 

Here is what some women would like you to know

Sandra: Every girl looks forward to her first menses. If she doesn't have the support she needs, menstruation becomes a burden.

Linda: Do not make fun of us. Don’t call it those “bi things of yours”  It is a personal thing that causes changes to our bodies - pain, bloated stomachs, headaches, back pain etc. It is different with every woman. It is okay for you to go to the supermarket and buy us sanitary pads and you do not even have to be shy about it, asking the shopkeeper to hide them under layers of newspapers and polythene bags. Push the agenda on behalf of the women in your life.

Alice: Please understand what we have to deal with at that time of the month and it's not just during the period, it is the days before and after. 

Sarah: If i need to take time away from work, it should be understood. It is not sick leave, annual leave, study leave...it is special. Menstruation is not an illness. 

Mercy: It is a private Conversation. Don't start throwing words and discussing us “ You see her, she is like that because it is that time of the month” Understand that it is sensitive.

Esther: if we act different from the usual, understand, do not blame us.

Stella: Exercise patience when a woman is in her period. Understand that it passes.

Gladys - Sometimes it's painful, Understand that i am not well at that moment and i need to rest. 

Hatma: A woman in her periods is not dirty. 

Mama Theo: It is a natural process. A sign of youthfulness. A sign that you can be a mother. You were conceived and brought into this world through a woman who has to go through that process.

Dalia: To the man who has a daughter, know what sanitary towels to buy, how often to change pads, drink lots of water and take her to a gyn for a quarterly visit. 

Jackie : Menstruation is no cuddle time. 

Diana: The cramps can be so bad that a woman gets sick. She is not pretending.

Anne: Your loving wife might become someone else because of the hormone changes. Be supportive rather than abusive.

Maureen: It is not the time to disconnect from her as though she has a disease.

Farida: I find sex during menstruation unhealthy

Namwandu

"Where is she?"
"Who? The widow? She is inside. Locked up in her room with her sisters."

"The widow. The widow! That is me. I am a widow." Mama Kungu turned her head, whispering softly to herself, and tried to lean on her shoulder. The name did not register. Widow seemed like such a heavy ugly word. It didn't feel right. A few days ago, she was Mrs Kungu, Mama Junior. Now she was Namwandu, The widow.

She wondered when it would all end. For days on end, the media people, the government people, the neighbours...had hounded her, walked about her house like they belonged. All these men and women from everywhere who acted as though they were closer to her husband than Junior. They took the front seats at the funeral service, and when Kungu was placed in thr grave, they stood at the front, heads bowed, then threw their flowers and soil in slowly, stealing glances at the cameras to make sure they caught them in motion. They wanted to be seen grieving.

Mama Junior did not get to watch as they covered Kungu's grave. The rain. It must have been raining, because she couldn't see a thing. But when she told people later that it rained the day of the funeral, they shook their heads sadly, looked at her, a woman to be pitied, and told her, there had been no rain. But she remembers there was rain. It blurred her vision. It covered her face and she couldnt see. There had to have been rain.

"No Mama Junior. It was not rain. It was the bucket of tears you shed as they lowered Kungu into the grave. You cried until we thought you would faint. We feared for the baby."

"The baby! Oh my goodness, the baby." Mama Juniors hand quickly goes to her stomach. What happened to the baby?

"She doesn't remember her baby? Namwndu tajukira nti yalilubuto?"
"What kind of woman is that?"
"She is a widow. Excuse her. She just lost her husband."

"Omwana ali ne mama Kungu."
"When did the baby come out?"
"You gave birth the day after the funeral, Mama Junior. Your mother in law came for the child after two days."
"Why did she take my child? What is his name? Did i see him? Him? Is it a boy? Did i have a boy?"

The tears threatened to pour as i read the last line. I could see them holding their hankies and crying for the sad story i had been reading to them. They would leave here and for a few minutes, remember that sad story. But i would live with the reality of it for the rest of my life.

One day changed everything. One minute, Kungu was here and the next, he was gone. They say the minute your loved one dies, you feel it. In your gut, in your heart. You feel it somewhere. You instinctively know that something is wrong. I remember a sharp pain in my stomach that morning. I was outside putting out the fire from the charcoal stove. I leaned back against the wall of the compound and held my breath. Then i slowly made my way to a chair in the house and rested. I was 8months pregnant.

I do not remember much else. I remember a police car, i remember a funeral, i remember Junior tagging endlessly at my skirt. And then, nothing more.

I am told it was a week. I was asking for Kungu and they cried each time i asked.

"After the funeral, they took you to the hospital. The baby was born the next day. You could not feed the baby. You wouldn't even look at the baby. For two days in the hospital, you stared at the wall and said nothing. Your mother in law came and took the baby away." She says it accusingly, as though i intentionally shut the world out. Maybe i did.

I went to pick my baby today.
Kungu's child.
I did not know what to expect.
I had been told that Mama Kungu might not let me take him, and so i had asked my family to go with me.
She opened her door, and opened her arms wide.
Her tears flowed freely.

"Namwandu!" she said it over and over as she held me to her heavy bosom. Then she held me at arms length and asked if i would manage. I nodded.

I held my baby for the first time. I shall call the baby Kungu. But is it a boy or a girl?

"It is a girl Mama Junior."

I shall call her Kungu.

When You Let The Frustration Fester...

I think that anger builds
You do not just fly of the handle at the slightest thing
There is a much bigger thing
A building force
It will push the anger that has been building over time up
Right from the soles of your feet to your neck
When people say i am up to my neck in...
I take it to mean,
From the neck downwards is irritation, anger, frustration,
A mix of all these negative emotions
And they are slowly pushing their way out
Woe unto you if you be the one at the receiving end,
Playfully slapping my cheek
When the vomit of anger
Has gone from the neck into my mouth
That tap on my cheek might be the undoing
Everything comes out
On you
You poor innocent person
You have absolutely no idea why I am screaming at you!
All you did was just...
And now, you are covered in angry vomit
And you do not know what you did
It was not you
Somebody planted a seed
And i did not uproot it immediately
I fed and watered it
I nurtured it
It grew and became bigger than me until I could not control it
They tell you to keep your eye on the milk as you boil it
One side glance and it has risen and spilled over
You have to watch it, one hand ready to turn the knob
That is just the way anger is
If you do not watch it and control it, it rises and spills over Right out of your mouth leaving a huge mess
Nobody likes to clean up a mess
The smell of burnt milk is also not funny
The smell of the aftermath of anger that exploded
The taste it leaves in your mouth
Speak your peace.
Deal with the thing in it's infancy
Get it off your chest
Clear the air
Do not, let the anger start a steady rise from the soles of your feet until your lips open, to make way for the ugliness of festered frustration