August 10, 2011
She is the most beautiful woman in the world. She has a warm, calming smile and an energetic laugh. Like me she is conscious of what she wears and will always ask if she looks great. Not ok, but great. And she does indeed look great for a woman in her mid 40s. She has been through hell and back thanks to the unfavourable unkindness of a stranger named fate. Good thing it has made her the strongest woman I know; the greatest woman the world had been lucky to encounter; the woman I so proudly emulate. She is my mother.
She is slightly heavy with chubby cheeks and a long nose (exactly where mine came from). She loves to smile and talks a lot, unlike me. She has beautiful large eyes which dance when she lets out her contagious laugh. She is girlie and likes to fit in with her girls. She is impatient and tough when it comes to her work yet so gentle to the three year olds enrolled in her school. I once witnessed her hugging and kissing a dirty four-year old boy who found himself in her office while playing. She was excited calling him grandson while the boy blushed terribly and took off overwhelmed in the attention he gathered. I was in utter shock that made her laugh even more when I declared that I’d never kiss anyone with ripe mucus peeping from his nose and so much dust tainting his hair and face.
She is a hard worker. She managed to stabilize a school in four years when my father lost his job in 2007.She literary carried our family on her shoulders and proved to the world that it was not over for the Nyamwamu’s. She made us move into a new neighbourhood after we lost all our friends (both dad and us the kids) and managed to convince us that God wanted to show us who our true friends really were. We faithfully hang on to her every word of encouragement, especially when she convinced us that we’d be able to pay rent and our utilities with the then, days old school. She managed (she always gives credit to the man upstairs for the strength she has) but I give her credit for being the faithful, enthusiastic go-getter she is. She showed my chauvinistic father true love by teaching him to equally share ideas, money, and responsibilities with her-a woman.
She is now a director of Sibiah’s Star School, proudly named after her. She taught me administration and a little on teaching but most of all I have learnt patience and perseverance with a little strictness and perfectionism on management. She has grown rich (though she never admits it) and covers my father’s pride, respect and ego. No one really notices who foots the bill when they are together as she will hand over the cash and let him be the man. It fills her to see everyone happy and never takes credit even if it is rightly placed.This woman, my mother has become a real super woman and I always try to follow her steps. I still seek her advice and constantly want to know her next steps. She taught me to love and to be kind, though we fought a lot when I was younger (well I discovered we were so alike and tried to understand her).I lied, we both talk a lot! She taught me to cook and wash and bathe and she did the same with my other siblings, with special love for each one of us. This has now extended to her sons’ in-law. She still cares even as my sister and I are married off and always checks up on us. I respect this woman for being herself. She is atop her marriage, her school, her employees, her in-laws and her children’s in-laws. She lives the life I want to live and she wants her children to live it earlier than she did. She believes and so do I. she bears a huge burden with love in her heart and she never gives up. I want to be just like her. For me everyday is mother’s day and I call to tell her how much I love her. I remind her how great she is and make sure she feels appreciated.
My mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. She was my first contact into this world and she did a great job on me. I did have my fair share of spanks and thrashes but not once did they break me. I still fret at the thought of her painful pinches on the soft skin on my arms and thighs. She moulded me into what I have become and now smiles proudly to herself when she looks at me. “I see a lot of myself in you” she tells me, when we laugh away a shared joke. “I see my future in you” I always reply.
I am proud to be associated with her. She prayed to God for wisdom and I pray to God for her talent. My father loves her even more that despite his downfall she still tells him how he is the best man in her life. How without him, she would never be where she is. True she would never be here but to get here, she suffered. She almost lost her marriage and her son. She sacrificed her family for her in-laws and fought losing battles for them. She was hurt by the very man she trusted for security and love, and was humiliated. She wept buckets of tears for her children and her husband and spent several nights away from her matrimonial home, because of the war.
She cried to God for years to change her husband into a better man. Nineteen years passed and God turned the tables. Father ceased from being the breadwinner and looked upon mother for forgiveness. He braced himself for revenge for not being kind to her and fell sick with depression. He waited to die of humiliation and mockery, but that was not to be. God taught him that true love and respect only comes when you know where your strength comes from. He is a great man full of remorse and trying to make up. We love him for being our father, because our mother taught us so. Behind every man’s success is a woman. What then lies behind a woman’s success?