A MOTHER’S SACRIFICE

“Blessed is a mother that would give up part of her soul for her children’s happiness.”
― Shannon L. Alder

It was a Saturday that never was. My comrades and I were going to spend the afternoon with this special group… I refuse to call them the less fortunate.

We have seen them in all corners, and because we don’t understand them, we regard them as abnormal. I’m talking about this group in the society that suffers from the condition ….cerebral palsy or mostly known as CP.

CP is a condition caused by injury to the parts of the brain that control our ability to use our muscles and bodies. Often the injury happens before birth. Sometimes it happens when a baby is being delivered or soon after being born. CP can be mild, moderate, or severe.

These kids rely on an adult to do everything for them. Although cerebral palsy is a disorder that can impact any and all aspects of a person, it does not define who that person is.

“If only you were there to see little “Jonah” pretend to make a call through the toy phone”

It was a day to understand these kids better, but I found something more… The mothers had a story to tell.

It was a story from happiness to heartache and back to happiness.

None was prepared to have a child of this condition. They made several visits to the doctor’s before receiving a diagnosis of cerebral palsy.

Having a child with special needs changes everything, according to the mums.

Giving birth to a CP Baby meant a stop in a career, social life and love life. Segregation, stigma and depression could also not be avoided…

Someone had to be there for the baby, each hour, every second and only a mother’s love could beat this.

“A mothers heart is a child’s schoolroom”

But as soon as the mums learnt the meaning of “acceptance”- life was back to normal.

I could feel the pain in “wambui’s” voice as she narrated her story. Her son is the oldest in the group… he is 36 years of age.

His peers are all married now with kids. Unlike them, he remains dependent with no woman to attract…..

This is just one of the many memoirs of mothers with kids suffering from cerebral palsy…

Many of us were prepared to shed tears but as the day ended all we shared were hearty laughter’s.

I was envious of the kids. Years later, their mothers still watch every step of theirs!

…..it’s not like my mum doesn’t- but she is nowhere to warn me about the kind of man I meet each day on my way to work.

My confession ….

You can spot her in one of the uptowns club sipping an expensive wine, giggling as she tells her friends about her new investment. …

She is dressed in six inch heels, designer lipstick and probably one of Burberry’s collections. Her cologne is worth someone’s rent. She bought her 18inch human hair weave during her latest trip to Turkey.  It cost her nearly 3000 dollars.

She just doesn’t drive big cars, she owns more than one. She even has a road named after her.

She is the new kid in the block. Others refer to her as complex and sometimes even a controversial character.  Old folks call her the new breed but she prefers the name, “THE INDEPENDENT WOMAN”.

No friend’s to try out the new Italian place? The independent woman is not scared of making a visit and sitting alone the whole night.

Young girls in the village see her as the role model. The unhappy married women wish to be in her shoes.

What they don’t know, is that she is vulnerable and lonely. She is need of that “man”, but her ego won’t let her.

….She spends sleepless nights, cuddling pillows and duvets.

Every morning she covers her teary eyes with make-up. She preaches to the young sisters about the wonders and benefits of an exposed cleavage. She however, not tell about the type of investors it attract.

(Who yearns for an open beer anyway?)

She looks at men as sperm donors, not as a contribution to procreation. She believes she has it all in her hands.

Unless she wakes up from this nightmare…then her happiness remains in her dreams.

Well, I am now in my late thirties (trying to feel younger). AND AGAIN NO WOMAN TELLS HER AGE!

I’m done establishing my independence….i did that in my late twenties and early thirties. I have tried so hard to fit into these male dominated fields, and essentially lost my feminine side…leaving me no attractive.

My needs have changed and so are the needs of those around me. I am in need of him… But not just any man, but one who makes me feels right. It’s not a desperate need despite what most say. I just realized the Need of him doesn’t weaken me….

First it was finding a path to my financial freedom, which I did. It’s believed that when women take charge of their money, they take charge of their life. I don’t deny this, but I still remain unhappy.

I can no longer change bulbs in my house, I cannot fix the sockets and am tired of seeing the UN -attractive guy grooming my fence.

I need the door held for me, someone to assure me that I look beautiful before I leave the house. (My relationship with the mirror is falling apart.)

I also want that someone special to place roses on my bed and of course a date planned and paid by a man in my life.

Oh yes!! I need to feel loved, kissed, touched and held.

FY1: People are willing to try anything to land a dream partner. Affection is a universal need.

Life is meant to be shared. I want to share myself with another until I leave this life!

“Every time I see a couple holding hands, or just plainly sitting together I look away. It’s not that I hate seeing lovers. But because it reminds me of a question nobody can answer…where’s mine?”

I really feel like I need a man…………..(pictures by Sanch

Model: Shawn Osimbo)

The village “Thorn”

It has always been a pleasant feeling when I make the journey back to my village. This time however, the mood is different. I am going to lay a dear friend to rest. The journey is tiring. I understand the traveling buses have been fitted with speed governors. Music playing is not making it any better. I have never been a reggae fan. Were it not for the person seated next to me, it would have been like driving through the desert. The scene of wild animals grazing on either side of the road confirms that am approaching my ancestral land. Am I not blessed to come from such a community? People travel from far and wide to have a glance at these rare species but to us it’s a norm. I arrive late at our main town and with the traveling restrictions involved, I am forced to spend the night there -to proceed with journey the next day. I can spot three familiar faces as I have dinner in this particular hotel I settled for. they join me at the table and after some catching-up, we all agree it’s too early to call it a night. And off we began the escapade ……

All the places we set foot, I realize I was the envy of the ladies. I’m the only “eve” in a group of three. Its past midnight and we settled on” river place”

Someone please wake me up! What has become of my little naive town?

Little girls that can pass for junior school student’s stand in all corners trying to lure men for sex. They are scantily dressed,  their faces are concealed in make-up while the artificial hair worn, ….. complete the look.

“Poor little girls”, I thought, as I made my way into  “river place”.

After some dancing and drinking, two of my “friends” find themselves each an escort . Before I knew it we were all paired up.

The two escorts accent, confirmed my fears. They were part of  “my people”.

The one to my left was lean while the other was too beautiful to be out in the cold.

They could be different, but they were both here for the same mission- get paid for their services.

I tried engaging them, but they made it clear I was nothing but a hindrance to their business. With no dollars to give or a promising job,  I just had to play to the rules.

What hurt me most was the fact they were too young to be in the streets.  Not like there is a precise age for such.

I looked around and I could see how jealous the “others” were.

“Luck must have been on their side” …..maybe they thought.

A family of six we have become and with morning almost here we decide to leave the place. We Head to our respective rooms, but this time round with “visitors “.Morning came early, and I had to prepare fast enough to make it to the village to pay my last respects to my dear friend…

As I took breakfast, I could not stop but wonder how young people with great future are getting lost in vices that only draw them closer to their graveyards. Amoral decayed society we have become, a survival for the fittest world they say…even the young ones need to struggle to earn a living…

I can spot the lean one leaving the hotel with no regrets. Village here I come. I sighed and picked my bag.(pictures lifted from sites)